The Courtyard

Colored green and blue, the lanterns swung on their posts as a roar of wind blew over the fountain. Water suddenly gushed from the top, sounding like a peal of thunder that chased the wind back into the trees. I screamed, staring in fear at the sight of the clear waters filling the rusted basin. Did someone just activate the pump system in the fountain? That broken thing didn't look like it had tasted moisture in years. How was it filling up now?

Frightened by the fountain's jump-scare, I tried to pull the vine away from my ankle. But the vine was stronger than it looked. Pushing and pulling did nothing but leave my fingers raw. The agitation made my ankle begin to throb. 

"Help!" I called, fighting hard to stay calm, "Is someone out there? I'm stuck! Help!"

"Whoo-whoo!"

Gasping, I looked over my shoulder. On a low-hanging branch was perched an owl. His feathers were various shades of brown and black. He cocked his head, purring a hoot, round eyes gaping at me. I couldn't keep down a giggle at the funny sight. While he wasn't the rescuer I was hoping for, I did have a weakness for cute, round birds, and this owl was one of them. 

With a quick hoot, the owl suddenly leapt from the branch and swooped toward me. I shrank back as far as I could, scared by his abrupt movement. The bird hovered just above the vine, his beating wings blowing breezes into my face. What was he doing? A quick dive, and he pecked hard at the twisty plant. Nothing happened. 

That's cute, I thought with a smile. It's gonna take more than one peck, buddy. Believe me, I know.

Suddenly, the vine twitched and pulled away from my ankle. For a moment I gaped in shock. Then, realizing it might curl back, I pulled my ankle free and fell out of the crack, landing back in the garden. 

Relieved, I stood up. While my first instinct was to push through the wall and get back to the school, I hesitated. The vine might trap me again, and there was probably a more conventional way of leaving the property without having to squeeze through a broken wall. Meanwhile, the owl descended to the edge of the jagged opening, smoothing his fine feathers and looking quite pleased with himself. 

"Thank you," I said, slowly approaching him, "How did you do that? What's your name...birdie? Owl?" 

I felt so silly talking to a bird and couldn't help laughing. Fluffing his chest feathers and purring, he did not seem at all nervous the closer I came. When I came too close to the crack in the wall, however, he spread his wings wide across the gap and hooted shrilly.

"Easy, easy, big guy," I soothed, "I'm not going to hurt you—"

He flapped his wings urgently, and reached his talons toward me, forcing me to back away.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, not understanding what was worrying him, "What's the problem?"

"Whoo-hoo!" he answered, "Hoo! Hoo!"

I didn't understand his owl-speech, but I got the feeling he didn't want me to go through the crack again. That made two of us. To show I was not going to force my way past him, I moved away from the opening in the wall and sat down on the rim of the fountain's basin. He appeared less agitated now but strutted back and forth, eyes fixed on me, grunting hoots under his beak. I seriously had to bite my lip to keep in my giggles.

After a moment, he flew closer and landed near me on the basin's rim. His head jerked this way and that, making me smile.

"What is it?" I asked, "What are you trying to tell me, big guy?"

He leapt off the rim and soared up the stairs, disappearing from sight. I had no idea what he wanted next until a pressing "Whoo-hoo hoo!" told me to follow. No sure what else to do, I left the garden and ascended the steps to the patio above. Searching for the owl, I found him perched on one of the lantern lights near the back doors. 

He saw me coming and strutted back and forth on the lantern's top, all the time keeping his round eyes fixed on me. 

"What's the matter?" I asked, stopping just beneath him, "Why did you want me to come up here?"

He hooted and looked at the doors in front of me. They were old and dry, or maybe the dim lanterns just made the wood look more cracked than it was. The owl looked back at me expectantly. Somehow, I had the feeling he wanted me to go through the doors.

"You want me to go inside?" I said slowly.

He hooted and purred at once, excitedly flapping his wings.

"I can't do that!" I exclaimed, backing away a step, "I don't know who this place belongs to. I don't know if anyone's here period. I can't just walk in."

"Whoo-hoo hoo!" the owl insisted, "Whoo-hoo!"

"That doesn't tell me anything."

As if in answer, he spread his wings and flew behind me. I thought he was leaving until I felt his wings beating against me, urging me forward. His long feathers pushed my hair into my face. I drew the line when his talons got to close and nicked my shoulders.

"Ow! Knock it off!"

He would not be stopped, however, and I was slowly propelled toward the door.

"Hey, calm down!" I said, pushing against the door, "If you want me to go in, you better cut it out now!"

Surprisingly, the owl stopped pushing me and settled back on the lantern. He ruffled his feathers, smoothed them, then purred again. I put my hand on the large, polished handle, hesitating to enter. Though I was intrigued by the old-fashioned feel of the house—I'm a sucker for antiques—I could not figure out whether or not someone was actually here. 

Sure, I had seen lights on in the lower windows, but I had not noticed any movements inside nor shadows. Yes, the fountain had suddenly filled up with water, but maybe that was an automated mechanism that happened to turn on when I was in the garden. Besides, I didn't see any cars out front and I was pretty sure the place didn't have a garage or a side driveway. And hey, if I did run into someone doing maintenance here, maybe I could get directions back to the school.

The owl was still waiting for my decision.

"If I get in trouble for this, it's on you," I said firmly, pointing a warning finger at him. 

He did not seemed perturbed, but purred softly. 

"Oh, I'm going to regret this, aren't I...?"

I pulled the heavy door open. It glided slowly across the tiles until there was a space large enough for me to slip through. I stepped inside and faced the heavy door as I closed it, too nervous to look down the hall. The latch clicked shut as the thick wood joined its companion door, and the echo faded softly behind me.