NANNY: Come along, Ethiopia, we must head home
now for tea.
GIRL: We cannot leave yet. I haven’t seen a Bluebird!
NANNY: May lightning strike you, child, there
ARE no bluebirds anymore! And even
if there were, what would you do with one?
GIRL: I’d close it up in a bottle—like a
firefly! And keep it with me
always.
NANNY: Wicked child! Dangerous child!
Bluebirds are too big for bottles.
All at once there is a great
roaring of wings. The trees bend
in the new wind, a wind which tints the park a strange shade of pale blue. All the leaves swirl away through the
cyclonic air, making way for the descent of a gigantic bluebird—as big as a
helicopter.
BLUEBIRD (in a thundering
voice the size of a building): What’s this talk of bottles?
NANNY: This is my charge,
Ethiopia (Ethiopia smiles and curtseys).
She wants to take you home in one!!
BLUEBIRD: Do you, you little molecule? And what would you do with me there?
GIRL: Watch you, day and
night.
BLUEBIRD (somewhat
mollified): Would you indeed?
GIRL: Yes. Until I got tired of you.
BLUEBIRD
(thunderstruck): Tired of me?
NANNY (wearily): She gets
tired of things.
BLUEBIRD: Here’s what I
suggest. Forget this ridiculous
bottle business, and both of you can come for a ride on my back instead.
NANNY: Not I, thank you, but Ethiopia would
probably enjoy it.
GIRL (excitedly): Oh yes! Yes!
(She climbs onto the bird’s
back)
BLUEBIRD: Ready?
GIRL: Yes.
NANNY (to Bluebird): She has to be back for tea!
The Bluebird lifts heavily
into the air, Ethiopia clinging for dear life to its neck.
NANNY (watching them
go): I wonder if I shall ever see
her again?
(curtain)
