The day Rosa fell ill was a day of great consternation in the Blau household.

The normally exuberant young bird, who constantly flew around the nest explaining to her siblings and parents how life really was, was now laying on her back in her feather bed groaning. The general feeling was that Rosa was no where near as bad as she made herself out to be and most of what she was feeling was in her head. Thus, the name the Blau drama queen. However, this time there was no mention of Rosa being overly dramatic as some of the others in the family, Julia and George, were also feeling under the weather. But of course, each one reacted to their being under the weather very differently.

George had to maintain a stiff upper beak so to speak, due to his mother being the quintessential English lady and thus pretended that life couldn’t get any better. Julia insisted she was just fine and that the household would fall apart without her meals. So, she insisted on remaining in the kitchen though she did say her head was clogged and so she couldn’t learn anything at school.

It was up to Sybil to write notes to both Julia’s and Rosa’s teachers letting them know of the current medical conditions of her children. Sybil considered herself the North Topsail Beach’s answer to Jane Austin and always amused the teachers at the local school with her descriptions, be it of the weather, her children’s conditions or just the state of the world. They loved getting her notes. In fact, Julia’s teacher Mrs Birnbaum, never threw any of those notes away and instead folded them neatly and put them in a little shoe box upon which she Sybil Blau Alcott.

Sybil had been told many times, ever since she was a young bird, that she was destined to be a great author. However, after a series of mishaps, most of which were self-inflicted, such as burning her wings on the stove or singeing her beak trying to smell for leaking gas while she turned on the burners, left her with a damaged self-esteem, which she still carries to this day. Her current literally talents are now limited to her scarce note writing to her children’s teachers.

Maybe one day George belived, Sybil will decide that time is marching on and she needs to write the follow up book to the Brother Karamazov. “If only,” Sybil sighed, “I had the time.” However, on this particular day, Rosa lay in her feather bed with her blanket pulled around her neck even though it was a considerably warm spring, which brought a sense of slight panic to the Blau household. Rosa’s drama never usually included props. She felt being the Shakespearean actor she hoped to be one day in her spare time, when she was not in her nurse’s or vet’s office would serve her well.

“How are you feeling?” asked her father who walked into her bedroom and promptly opened the window allowing a gust of salty air to flow in unabated which made Rosa gasp. “Oh dear! Are things that bad young lady? I thought a burst of fresh air would make you feel better.”

“Yes daddy it usually does,” croaked Rosa, “but today it feels like I just put my head in a box of Morton’s Kosher salt.” She alluded to Julia’s insistence that using Kosher salt in all her cooking, whether it needed it or not, made all things Kosher.

“I’m sorry,” replied George flying over to the window in a hurry and closing it as silently as he could.

Rosa groaned, “can you pull the blanket over me Daddy, I think it fell on the floor.” That pronouncement concerned George because the blanket was already completely covering his daughter with the exception of her face.

“But my dear Rosa, the blanket is pulled all the way up.”

“Oh!” replied Rosa sounding poorly, “I guess I’m still cold.”

George promptly flew out of her room and went to see his wife, who at that moment was on the balcony overlooking the waterway to Africa, writing notes which went longer than a few lines to both Julia’s and Rosa’s teachers. “Darling,” she heard him say as he landed next to her chair. “Darling, I don’t think Rosa is doing that well. She just asked me to pull the blanket over her believing it had fallen on the ground, when in fact it was covering her entire body.” He paused for a second to try and understand his wife’s look of, ‘yea right,’ and then added, “not only over her entire body, but up to her neck.”

That was enough for Sybil, by her own logic, to believe Rosa wasn’t quite as bad as she made out. “Just let me finish these notes,” she told him, “because Timmy is about to leave for school.”

Julia joined them on the balcony. “Timmy’s food basket is ready,” she announced, “I made him the egg salad sandwiches he likes so much, with a couple of Kosher dill pickles.”

“I hope there’s enough left over,” replied Sybil, sealing the notes and laying them on the table for Timmy to pick up when he came out to say goodbye to everyone, “because I’m in the mood for egg salad for my breakfast.” Sybil paused, “how about Rosa? What’s for breakfast for her.”

“Well, the way I hear it, she won’t be hungry. But I did warm up some oatmeal for her. But maybe I should put it away, because she won’t eat it.”

“Oatmeal!” they heard Rosa cry from inside, “why wouldn’t I eat oatmeal?” And then Rosa stopped. “I’m feeling better Mummy,” she added suddenly realising she had said the wrong thing.

“How are you feeling Julia?” she asked limping onto the balcony.

“Why are you limping?” asked Sybil who was now feeling so much better because her assumption that her baby drama queen was still her baby drama queen.

“I don’t know,” Rosa whined, “maybe my cold went into my leg.” She stopped to gauge the reaction on the faces of the rest of the family.

“I wish!” Timmy had walked on to the balcony to pick up the notes replied.

“Why’s that?” asked Rosa who was not really interested in his answer, but thought it best to ask.

“Well then maybe your leg would fall off.”

Rosa panicked. “Is that right?” she asked and then in perfect unison the rest announced “Sure!” Rosa limped back to her bedroom.

“It’s ok,” they heard her say, “it’s ok. I don’t need oatmeal today, not if my leg drops off.” Timmy smiled, kissed his mother and flew off to school.

George decided to go quietly into the kitchen and eat Rosa’s oatmeal. Julia walked slowly into her room and closed the door behind her, leaving Sybil on the balcony to watch the waves and ask herself the question, “am I really as good an author as everyone else thinks?” Then, after taking a deep breath, Sybil lay back in her chair. “Maybe it’s time for me to find out before it’s too late.”

Rosa groaned loudly and the sound reverberated around the nest.