“What’s the matter?” “Nothing, come on we have to go,” was her reply. “Go where? I thought we were having pizza and watching a movie.” �...�We will later, come on,” she said grabbing my arm and hustling me out the door to her garage. “Get in, I'm driving.” “Where are we going?” I asked. “It's a surprise,” was all she would say as she started her car and went out the driveway. I did not have a clue where we were headed. Lisa took one turn after another and pretty soon I was lost. We drove into a. ‘Is there a particular bird that you’ve been hunting for?’ I asked, recovering. Her expression had changed while she listened to my question as if every word I said was important and then she smiled again, ‘There is actually. An Indigo Bunting.’ She paused for a moment to gauge my reaction. I guess I didn’t have one. ‘Look it up,’ she said sliding the Peterson book to me. I flipped to the index at the back. I couldn’t find it. Therewere hundreds of birds listed. ‘Under Bunting,’ she said as she. More

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