"Shine on, shine on..." Tim sang along with the music, picturing the opening scenes to Twister, his favorite movie of all time.

So far this spring had been kind of quiet, but with the recent increase in temperature a good thunderstorm was likely. Not that he was likely to see any tornado action. This was New York, after all, not the Texas panhandle. Man, if only Dad would agree to let him go on a chase tour. That would be epic! But of course, the old man was not likely to agree.

"You'll be going to college in another year, Tim" he would say, with that pained expression. "We can't afford to spend money on something you don't even know would pan out. Besides," he always added, "you could get hurt. Why would you want to pay to get hurt?"

"I wouldn't get hurt," he would argue, but his assurances fell on deaf ears.

Yes, it was true he had some serious thrill issues, as Mom liked to call them, but he wasn't stupid. He knew weather was something you had to respect. Otherwise it could do you some true damage.

Maybe he'd pull out the movie and watch it tonight-

THUMP!

Tim started and looked around. What was that? He looked out the window. Clear skies. He got up from his bed, turning down the music, and walked to the door. He leaned his ear against it. All was quiet-

BAM!

He jumped, spinning around.

"What the-?"

It had definitely come from the window. He saw his reflection in the glass as he walked closer.

BAM!

"Crap!"

He'd seen it that time. A bird had flown right into the glass. He could see a little smeary mark where it had hit. His heart pounded against his ribs as he took another step, peering out the glass into the yard. Three little brown forms littered the grass. One was moving around. The other two laid still.

"Holy crud." Poor little buggers.

At the elementary school he used to go to, sparrows used to fill the bushes and trees outside the windows, and they would often fly into the windows by mistake.

"They can't see the glass," the teacher explained, pulling the shades so that her students couldn't stare at their little fallen bodies.

But there were no bushes and trees near his bedroom window. He couldn't remember ever seeing a bird fly into it before. Now three had? As he watched, the one that was moving got itself settled and fluttered into the air. Tim expected it to fly off, but it landed on his windowsill. Its tiny head tipped to one side, two shiny black eyes looking in. It was like it could see him there.

"What's up, little guy?"

Tink. Tink. Tink.

The little orange beak pecked at his window. It was like it wanted to come in. He had the crazy urge to open it and see if the bird flew in, but Mom would freak if he let a bird in the house. Plus there was Dudley-Do-Right to consider. He was a little fatter and slower than he had been, but Tim was pretty sure he could still catch a critter if he wanted, even if he did have only three legs. As if Tim's thoughts had called him, he heard the cat meow outside his bedroom door. Well, not meow so much as aaarrow. The Dudmeister had some definite Burmese or Siamese in him. Tim backed to the door, keeping his eyes on the crazy little bird as he opened the door. Dudley walked in, rubbing against Tim's shins.

"I don't have any food, Dud Man."

Dudley's enormous yellow eyes looked up at him as if pleading would result in cat treats appearing magically in Tim's hands. Then the movement at the window caught his eye. His black head whipped around, eyes pinpointing the small brown bird at the window. Dudley's thick black tail twitched.

"Easy bud," Tim said. "He's outside."

The bird's head tilted the other way, those beady little eyes regarding them both, and then with a ruffle of feathers and a small thump it was off, flying away and quickly disappearing.

"That was weird."

Dudley padded quickly to the window, his muscles tense and his wide eyes staring.

"Bird's gone, Dud." Tim headed for the hall. "Come on, I'll get you a couple kitty treats."

But the Dud Man was having none of it. He stayed crouched near the window, his head low on his shoulders as if he could hide himself from the little birds and catch them unaware. Maybe he could, if the window was open. Leaving Dudley to his stalking, Tim headed for the kitchen. His mother stood at the counter, frowning into a mixing bowl, hands on hips.

"You okay, Mom?"

Her lips twisted to the side. "I forgot I was out of eggs," she said with a sigh.

"I can run up and get some if you want." The store was only a couple blocks away.

Her face lightened. "Could you? That would be a huge help."

"Sure."

"Oh, and could you pick up another bag of flour while you're there?"

"No problem."

She smiled, digging into her purse and handing him a ten. "Keep the change."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Hey, I can't beat the price of my delivery service."

The door to the garage opened and dad walked in wiping his hands on a dirty towel. "Yeah, all we pay is room, board, laundry service and all you can eat dining. Cheap!"

Mom raised an eyebrow. "Please do not insult my delivery boy until he is back with my delivery."

Dad threw the dirty towel at her and she laughed, threatening to squirt him with the sink sprayer. Tim ducked out before their little skirmish could escalate into a full on water war with him stuck between them. He grabbed his bike from the rack and rolled it down the driveway, swinging up and on before it reached the sidewalk and curving smoothly onto the road. He did a quick check behind him before darting to the opposite side, then pumped his legs until the wind was whistling past his ears. This bike was getting old, but it was still awesome. Dad had offered to buy him a new ten-speed, but he'd refused.

He headed for the incline of the Schiller's driveway, hitting it at just the right spot so that his front tire found the spot where the curb was broken and acted as a mini ramp. He jerked on the handlebars and pulled with his body. The bike responded, hitting the ramp and flying up into the air a good three feet before coming down on the sidewalk. He landed and pedaled hard, building his speed as he neared the end of the shopping plaza. The sidewalk gave way to blacktop and he pulled the bike sharply to the right, punching his feet back on the brakes. The bike gave a satisfying sideways slide, ending right at the spot where the plaza walkway started.

A woman stood a few feet away, her back to him and holding what looked like a bag of groceries, body frozen.

"Oh, sorry about that," Tim said breathing hard.

He must have startled her when he executed that awesome move.

The woman didn't answer him, but stayed frozen where she was. Tim frowned. He could see her sides moving as she breathed, but her head was tilted back as if she was staring up into the sky. Tim angled himself to try to look past her, squinting upward, but the roof line of the plaza blocked his view. Something about the way she was just standing there, her arms locked around her bag and her legs planted, gave him the willies. Maybe she was on something. Or she could be like Benjamin Bailey, the town crazy. When he wasn't busy picking bottles out of everyone's trash to redeem for a bottle of booze, he sometimes hung around the plaza making a nuisance of himself.

Tim checked for cars and then eased his bike into the parking lot, giving the lady a wide berth. As he came around her he could see that he face was indeed staring upward. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, her mouth hanging open. Her face was wet, her eyes leaking water as she stared. Was she crying? Tim let his bike drift to a stop, but didn't get any closer. A finger of worry wormed its way through his stomach.

"Hey, are you okay?"

He looked around, hoping someone else was close by and might see what was going on, but there was no one around. All the activity was at the other end of the plaza, up by the grocery store. The only thing at this end was an old out-of-business movie theater that had yet to be bought or updated into something else. Even the For Sale sign was ancient. Which brought up another question: if the woman was walking home with a bag of groceries, why was she turned around facing back the way she'd come? As he looked at her again, trying to figure it out, the sun glinted off something on her chin. A line of drool leaked from the corner of her open mouth, slowly coursing down her face.

"Gross," Tim muttered, but he was more than grossed out.

He was freaked out. This lady was beyond strange. Feeling sweat break out on his neck, he forced his legs to move, feet pushing the pedals as the bike rolled away. He kept his eyes focused on the parking lot, and didn't look back until he reached the far end where there were enough other people around to make him feel as if he'd stepped back out of the twilight zone and into reality. He half expected to find she wasn't there, but there she stood, face still turned up to the sky. Even from here he could swear he saw a glint as the sun reflected off the drool hanging from her chin.

Tim shivered violently and turned away.

He walked his bike up to the rack on the left side of the entrance to the Save-N-Shop, chaining it up and trying not to think about it. First the birds, now this - it really was turning into a strange day. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing as he walked into the store, not letting himself glance back to the other end of the plaza. He didn't want to see her standing there.

Inside the cool air washed over him, but instead of soothing it left him feeling chilled. He hoped he was just being paranoid. He probably should have made sure the lady didn't need help. Maybe she was having a seizure or something. He shouldn't have just left her there, but something about the combination of today's events was making him feel uneasy. He didn't know how they could be connected. It wasn't like birds and people had much in common.

Something in the air, he thought, and let out an uneasy laugh.