Summer Is Coming

“You know it’ll be here before you know it,” Dereck plopped down on the bench beside Gonga and dropped his backpack on the floor.

“Not fast enough,” Gonga grunted, laying his accordion aside.

“Why, what are you planning on doing?”

“Going to help band birds.”

“Band birds? You mean, shoot birds, right?”

“No, we will trap them and put a band on their leg and let them go.”

“Sure,” Dereck punched Gonga in the arm. “You mean you’ll eat a couple of them and then let the feathers go.”

Gonga scowled at his friend, “That is what Gonga does to Jayhawks. Not what Gonga does to real birds.”

“Well, you have a great time banding your little birdies. I’m gonn’a go climb Mount Everest.”

“Gonga think you mean Ozark mountain.”

“Those aren’t mountains,” Dereck arched his eyebrow. His watch chimed. “Well, better get going to class, or I’ll be late.” He hefted his backpack off the ground. “Stupid textbooks,” he muttered.

Gonga grinned. “Can sell them at Textbook Game,” he said. “Will buy oxygen mask for your mountain climb.”

“That,” Dereck wagged his finger at Gonga, “is the best idea you’ve had in weeks.”

“Banding birds is a better one,” Gonga responded. “Must sell my books to get money for that job.”

“You ARE crazy,” Dereck turned on his heel and strode off toward campus.

Gonga eyed his accordion case and tried to stop day-dreaming about feathers fluttering away in the breeze.