I Heard The Eagle Call My Name

by Jeff Baker

The Eagle spoke to Tony as he was washing the cars in the used car lot that Summer morning. It was the week of the Fourth of July and Tony’s boss was hoping for a big crowd over the holiday weekend.

Tony was just hoping to get off work early enough so he could set off fireworks.

The Eagle was a big balloon; covered in stars and stripes, staring out onto Fifth Street with a fierce glare. Shaped, of course, like an Eagle.

“Anthony Aquilla,” came the voice as Tony was spraying down a red Mazda.

“Yeah?” Tony said as he fumbled for his smartphone in his cargo pants pocket.

“Up here, Anthony Aquilla,” the voice said.

Tony looked up. The blow-up eagle had turned its head slightly and was glaring down at Tony with dark, painted eyes.

“You can do better than this, Anthony Aquilla,” the Eagle said. “Your people did not intend for you to wash cars forever.”

“Uh, if you think I’m like, Native American, I’m not,” Tony said. “I’m Spanish on my dad’s side. Spain Spanish.”

“So?” the Eagle said. Tony never imagined an Eagle saying “So?” like that, with a raised, painted eyebrow.

“And I don’t intend to wash cars forever,” Tony said. “This is just to pay for gas and stuff. I’m going to college.”

“You need to leave here and find your place in the world,” the Eagle said.

“Yeah, I have an uncle who’s always saying that,” Tony said with a shrug. “But not without a job I’m not. Or with a better car than I have now.”

“The Sun will still rise and set,” the Eagle said. “Then one day it will rise and set on a world that does not have you in it.”

Tony stood and stared for a minute. He dropped the hose.

He walked up to the office and clocked out.

As he was driving off in his car he thought to himself about the places he wanted to go…

—end—