Rescuing Rufus - Just Mike Just

I live in Mancos, Colorado. I got this really big garage, one door big enough for my truck camper to dock through when the lid’s cranked down.

A short distance from the garage, a wraparound porch surrounds my little cabin on a hill. Two hummingbird feeders hang from the porch’s eaves.

Broad-tailed hummingbirds swoop to drink. The metallic trill of the broad-tails reminds me of a little flying saucer. Then, a little Rufous hummingbird zazzes in and chases away the larger, male broad-tail. They’ll defend a food source against just about all comers.

I admire hummingbirds; their speed, zooming like dragon flies as fast backward as forward, dashing straight up toward the zenith of the sky until they dissolve in the sunlight, the rufouses flickering side to side in their iridescent rust and the broad-tails in their rose red. Appearing and disappearing from my slow-motion sight like cloaked Klingon Birds of Prey.

One calm and bright summer day I’m deadheading the groundcover. Both garage doors are open like shuttle docks. I stroll into the garage to grab a garden claw, and I hear the harmonic hum of a hummingbird in flight. It was a rufous, buzzing around the eaves of my garage, about 12 feet above the tarmac.

Not only does my garage sport giant doors, but it has huge eaves defined by dozens of open rafters. Above the rafters, grilled heat vents let in a little light. My little rufous friend, let’s call him Rufus, kept flying back and forth above the rafters, searching for a way out. I suspect he was attracted by the red lanyards that hung from each electric door opener. The sunlight leaking in through the heat vents might’ve confused him, since he never once dipped below the rafters, where the way out was apparent. And I think: Hmmm, how does this apply to my life?

My friend, Rufus, would soon exhaust himself seeking escape. Hummingbirds run on a lean mixture. Their metabolism is much speedier than ours and I was afraid he’d run low on calories and die. So, I set about fixing a rescue.

I have a rather long snow rake leaning against the wall in my garage, meant to squeegee snow from my exceptionally step metal roof.

I grab one detachable length of the pole for the snow rake (it comes in sections) and attach the hook of the hummingbird feeder to the eyelet meant for the next section of pole. A snow rake’s poles work kind of like an aluminum tent pole from the old days, back when they had canvass tents and Boy Scouts hadn’t disappeared from most of their range.

Meanwhile, Rufus buzzes back and forth, emitting panic pheromones to all the other rufous hummingbirds in southwestern Colorado, ensuring a boycott of my birdfeeders. Once in a while, he catches a rest and perches on one of the rafters. That’s the ingenuity of my plan. When Rufus stops for a breather, I inch the feeder up on its pole real slow-like, right above the rafter where he’s perched. The red attracts him and, and! He’s gone! I moved it too fast. Or too slow. You can’t tell with hummingbirds since they live and move and breathe on a different timescale. I mean, they’ve mastered the art of warp speed, just like a Starship.

And as I watch him flitting back and forth, I’m thinkin’: Hmmmm, how is this like me?

I must remain patient and wait until Rufus decides again to alight on the rafter beam. Soon enough he does. And I’m right underneath him. And I inch the pole up, not too fast, not too slow, the nectar dripping down on my arms until flies and yellowjackets decide they like me too. This time, Rufus hops on the feeder and takes a couple sips.

Slowly, oh so slowly, I lower the pole and my hand starts to tremble and …Rufus is gone. Buzzing around my garage, knocking against the heat vents like a fly against the pane, looking for the way out when its right underneath him.

I have to wait until he perches again. Then, slowly, slowly I raise my staff with the red disc teetering at the end, the nectar dripping on my face, onto the garage floor. And Rufus hops aboard the spaceship and takes a drink. And I slowly, so slowly, lower the pole. And Rufus flies off.

I don’t know whether he’s spooked by the sway of my arms. I can only keep the pole so stable. Or does he just get bored and decide to buzz off?

But my ingenuity fails me, Rufus. Rufus you win.

Another Great Thought snaps into consciousness. It’s a little more radical, but the stakes are higher. I don’t know if Rufus will survive the night in my unintentional aviary.

I walk to the hose, attach the spray gun (just an ordinary sprayer without too much pressure). I drag the hose into the garage. Rufus is hummin’ and searchin’ for a way out. I wait until he’s right above me. I spray a water jet right up Rufus’s rump. He crashes in a vertical line to the concrete, drenched.

He stares at me, stunned. I stare at him, stunned. Will he ever fly again? He’s soaked and his tail seems like it’s on sideways. His wings are a little askew.

And I’m thinkin’: Oh, shit. I just wasted a hummingbird.

In a few seconds, he lifts off like a helicopter. He twitters backwards through my huge garage door and rotors upward at the same time, like only the Enterprise can. He disappears in a giant arc over my garage roof.

And I’m thinkin’: I guess that is just how I live my life. When the Dude with the Really Big Garage Who Fills my Feeder can’t get my attention through the gentle persuasion of nectar, he has to use more radical means. He shoots cold water up my ass. But it works, don’t it?

Mike’s novel, The Dirt: The Journey of a Mystic Cowboy, is available in softcover or eBook formats through Amazon.

You can purchase the book through this website. Or go straight to amazon at https://www.amazon.com/s?k=the+dirt+journey+of+a+mystic+cowboy&crid=1S40Q4BXSUWJ6&sprefix=the+dirt%3A+journey+of+a+m%2Caps%2C180&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_23

Mike’s other titles, including The Crippy, The Mind Altar, and Canyon Calls, are available through this website or through Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002

Four of his short stories have recently been published online:

Lies, Ltd. has been published by The Mystery Tribune @ Lies, Ltd.: Literary Short Fiction by Michael C. Just (mysterytribune.com)

The Obligate Carnivore has been published by the Scarlet Leaf Review @ Category: MICHAEL JUST – SCARLET LEAF REVIEW

I See You, Too has been published by the 96th of October @ I See You, Too – 96th of October

Offload, a short story about a man who can heal any disease, is now live and can be read at The Worlds Within at Offload – The Worlds Within