Rachel was the only girl in a litter of four and her three brothers were a rowdy trio. From the time she could remember, Rachel had to fight for every tidbit of nourishment she got from the food her parents brought to their nest. Her brothers were larger and stronger than Rachel and she was nudged aside at feeding time, left to survive on whatever morsels were accidentally dropped close to her. Sometimes it was a little piece of a night crawler or the legs of a fat grub worm, but most times it was nothing at all. The only occasion when she got a decent meal was when her brothers' bellies were so full they couldn't raise their heads for another bite and her parents would drop a whole worm in the nest close to her by accident. That didn't happen often, though, because they always stopped the feeding when only Rachel's beak was gaping upward. There was a reason for this, but Rachel never learned what it was.

Wally and Fluffy, Rachel's parents, each thought the other was feeding her. She was too young to take it personally, though, thinking that it was normal for the only female in the gaggle to not be fed. But, she'd wished many times that she had been a boy-bird or had simply never pecked her way through that shell and entered this world. It had been warm and snugly in there, peaceful and quiet--and hungerless.

What Rachel couldn't know was that her parents were boozers. They weren't bad birds, they just enjoyed a few sips on special occasions to celebrate the day and keep the evil spirits away. When Rachel and her brothers started pecking their way out of their eggs, it was time for a celebration, so Wally and Fluffy Warbler had took off for a bar-stump where they hung out for a while. They knew it would take a few hours for their little family to be completely out of their shells so they had perched on the stump and yakked with their drinking buddies about the new arrivals. They got caught up in the conversation and were pretty snockered when they returned to their nest. The quartet had gotten completely out of their shells by the time the happy parents returned to their nest. They were huddled close and had their little heads thrown back, wobbling. They stretched their necks upward, oversized beaks gaped open pointing toward the sky. Their little talons were tapping the bottom of the nest as they struggled to stand taller, all trying to occupy the same spot--the dance of survival.

Wally and Fluffy stood on the edge of their nest looking down proudly at their newborns.

"Man, that is one good-looking buncha kids, hic," Wally said, wobbling back and forth a little.

"Ain't they though," Fluffy said, grabbing Wally's wing to stop him from falling off the rim of the nest. "I think they all favor you the most."

"Nah, I think they all look a little like both of us. Hey, mamma, I got an idea. Since there's an even number, what say I feed two and you feed two, okay?" Wally proposed.

"Sounds like a deal to me," Fluffy said and belched.

"I'll take these two," Wally said, pointing a pinfeather in the general direction of two of the boys.

"And, I'll take these two," Fluffy said and pointed at two of the boys.

And that's how it happened that one of the boys got a double helping of food and Rachel was forced to survive on table scraps.

Somehow Rachel survived those early days of being ignored at feeding time and because of her lack of nourishment, she was trim and slim when it came time for her and her brothers to test their wings. Their parents had been holding ground school classes for a few days and Rachel paid close attention to every word. She wanted more than anything imaginable to learn to fly. Her desire to fly was not only because of the instinctive prodding by Nature's programming to get her out there in the forest to mingle, find a mate and procreate, she was driven by the other major force, survival. She wanted to fly because she was hungry. She wanted a decent meal. My God, she needed a decent meal, and she knew she'd never get one hanging around this frigging nest. She loved her parents, one of many, minor, instinctive qualities that Nature doles out, but damn, they were sorry. They doted her brothers and ignored her from day one, almost as though she didn't exist. They had never dropped a worm, or anything else, directly into her gaping beak, except by accident, but she still loved them.

But now it was almost time to fly, to get out there and find herself a big, fat grub worm. To hell with finding a mate right now. She had to satisfy the first priority on the list, survival. She had to find some food! In her mind Rachel visualized a big, fat, juicy grub worm, the larva of the largest butterfly ever to exist, the caterpillar laying on an ornately, hand decorated, china platter, belly up, a hundred drumsticks reaching for the sky, roasted to perfection, an apple in its mouth, surrounded by an assortment of steaming vegetables with a bottle of chilled Chablis setting close by. This dream had kept Rachel going even when she was in deep despair with a growling belly.

Her brothers were anxiously looking forward to their first flight too, and when the big day came they stood in front of Rachel, naturally, blocking her view of the wing and pinfeather signals their parents were using while giving them a few last minute instructions. "Just remember what you've learned about the angle of attack," their father said, holding a wing out to demonstrate, "and keep above stalling speed at all times, except of course just before touching down during a two point landing. Remember to slow down to VMC when you encounter gusty winds. Keep your turns coordinated by using the proper amount of tailfeather, and always be a rubber neck--always keep an eye out for other birds around you. Midair collisions are rare, but they do happen, and they can be fatal. I know this is a lot to remember, but it will become second nature after you've got a few hours in your logbooks." It seemed that Wally had sobered up for this event.

Mom took over. "Now, we want you to leap out there and make three turns around the tree. That's enough on your first flight and when you return, dad and I will let you know how you did and sign your logbooks. After that we'll all go on a short, three leg, cross country flight." Ma bird smiled happily, took a deep breath and continued with gusto. "And, after that, you're all on your own with the whole wide world beneath your wings. You can travel far and wide and enjoy the sights. There are some wonderful sights for you to enjoy in far away places, like New Zealand, places far away like that. Africa is nice and Amsterdam, why you'll never, ever want to leave that wonderful, Bohemian atmosphere."

Papa bird interrupted saying, "now, now, Mom, don't get excited. The chicks will be fine."

To Rachel it sounded a little like Mom was sorta glad to see them go. She knew that she was certainly ready to go.

When the big moment came Curly, Larry and Moe hopped up on the rim of the nest and spread their wings, testing the control surfaces, waiting for their muscles to warm up, eager to be cleared for takeoff. Quite naturally there wasn't room for Rachel on the takeoff pad, but she was used to being left out of family events. She just stood back and watched.

"Okay boys," ma and pa said in unison, "one, two, three, go."

The three made a formation leap. Curly, who had double helpings of every meal since he was born, went straight down. His wings fanned the air furiously and he probably would have done fine, even though he was loaded a little over gross, except for one minor flaw in his technique--he was upside down. He hit the matted leaves on the ground, ker-plunk! Rachel leaned over the nest and saw her brother far below. He was running around in circles, wings a-flapping, legs moving as fast as a sandpipers, but he never reached takeoff speed because of his excessive weight and the rough terrain.

That must be embarrassing, Rachel thought, grinning.

Moe did fine for a few seconds. He sailed off in a straight line and spooled up to full power, gained cruising speed and throttled back a little. He was so proud of himself he turned his head back to see if he was getting approval from his parents, and ker-bam, flew headlong into the side of a passing Fed-Ex delivery van that was speeding down the nearby highway.

Larry fared a little better. He started out slow, descending precariously toward the earth at half throttle. He finally realized the problem, jammed the throttle to the firewall and zoomed upward. He sped through the forest for a minute, dodging trees, vans and utility poles, and finally got his bearings. He looked back up at the nest, poured on the power and climbed to flight level eighty. In bird that's eighty feet above the surface of the earth. Birds don't use MSL (Mean Sea Level) as a reference for determining their altitude because they're just too stupid to keep up with the ever changing barometric pressure. Larry was doing pretty good. He made three circles of the tree and entered downwind leg to set up an approach. Keeping an eye on the nest over his left wing, he throttled back a little and turned on base leg. Sliding down base leg he was right on track. He turned final, trimmed the nose up, captured the VASI, throttled back a little more, lowered his legs, throttled back some more, lowered the flaps, throttled back some more, raised his nose a little more, stalled out and fell into a left spin about ten feet from the threshold. As he spun downward, stall warning indicator blaring. He jammed his nose down and kicked in right tailfeather trying to stop the spin and regain flying speed, but oops, he forgot to add power and ran out of altitude and airspeed at the same time, plopping on the ground right next to brother Curly. The last Rachel saw of these two they were flapping their wings like crazy and going nowhere, like flys on a sticky strip.

Ma bird and Pa bird turned their heads to look at each other. They gave each other the mechanics shrug and Pa bird said, "Man, we should've spent more time with them instead a hanging around that bar-stump so much."

"I guess. Well anyway, that's one gone, two down, and one to go," Ma bird said, turning to look at Rachel. "Well, young lady, you ready to test your wings?"

She was and she did!

Rachel was having a hard time holding back her laughter. Somehow the fate of her fat brothers struck her as being hilarious, but she knew it would be wrong to laugh at them. She just kept her beak clamped shut, nodded, and stepped up onto the edge of the nest. She didn't hang around to listen to any last minute instructions. She simply leaped into the air and sailed away gracefully.

Rachel never looked back.