"What colour is it, Patrick?" I asked."Grey." So it's a male — a boy. Girl kestrels are a sort of red brown." He nodded."What's that?" Patrick was p...inting at a branch of Mum's native fig tree (Ficus macrophylla). "The bump." That's not a bump. That's an owl. Probably a Southern Boobook. They sleep during most of the day and wake up and hunt in the evening and early morning. They eat mice and grasshoppers." 'Kay. Patrick thirsty."I guess I spent a lot of time with him, just being a. For an hour I banged on the door crying, shouting, begging and pleading but John did not even answer once.Wearily I started to walk towards my parent's house. Each step was an agony. As I neared my parent's home I thought that I would have to tell them the truth and hearing the truth my father will surely thrash me. I decided to go to auntie Joseph's house.'Child what are you doing here at this late hour' she inquired but seeing my condition she took me inside and attended to my sore body. I. More

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