Me... a Bird?
—Just pretend? What do you mean by that?
“Exactly what I said. Just put on a show. You don’t even have to be cool for real. Just mimic it.”
—So... you’re telling me to act?
I nodded, and only then did Sesco seem to grasp what I meant. He chirped indignantly, as if his pride had been wounded.
—Hey, Mr. Vet. What was your name again?
“Baek Min-hyeok.”
Sesco casually hooked one wing over my shoulder and clicked his tongue to kick off the conversation.
—Right, Min-hyeok. Since it came up, let’s talk. Am I a bald eagle? Huh? From America. The bird on the flag, plastered all over U.S. government logos. That’s me!
Saemangeum Safari’s intel was no joke.
For a bird cooped up in an enclosure like Sesco to know all that.
“Seems like you get it. So what’s the problem?”
—Man, this is infuriating. You know who I am, and you’re telling me to just pretend to have pride?
Like Sugar, he was timid but had sky-high self-esteem—a weird mix.
“You’re the one who doesn’t get it. Bald eagles were always meant for that role from the start.”
—Hey, watch it. What do you mean ‘always’? What’s that supposed to mean?
I’d hoped he’d just listen obediently, but no such luck. Time to hit him with facts.
“Bald eagles are famous as symbols of courage and strength in media and as the national bird, sure. But that image? It’s all surface-level. You know you got totally outshined by the turkey, right?”
—Ahem. Th-that’s because turkeys are uglier than us, so they got disqualified.
“Half right. The turkey lost on looks but still almost became the national bird.”
—What? Why the hell?
“You asking because you don’t know? Turkeys have tons of advantages over bald eagles. They’re territorial—chase off intruders no matter how strong, with real guts. What about bald eagles?”
—Ugh... We...
“Yeah. You bolt at the first sign of trouble.”
—Excuse me?! If turkeys are so great, why not make them the national bird? Why us bald eagles!
Sesco glared at me fiercely, clearly clueless about the real reason.
This might sting a bit... but with his beak clenched stubbornly, I had no choice but to spell it out.
“Simple reason. Male turkeys mate with 5-7 females—a polygamous bird. You bald eagles? Monogamous. Plus, that handsome face. That’s it.”
—Wh-what?
I’d love to rewire his brain step by step, but Fairmont’s CEO was visiting in exactly one month.
With the tight schedule, I patted Sesco’s chest feathers as he looked stunned and pressed on.
“Turkeys might beat you overall, but no need to mope. However it happened, you’re the U.S. national bird now, right?”
—Y-yeah, true...
“Exactly. Bald eagles have killer eyesight, dive fast to hunt. Turkeys couldn’t dream of it.”
—Hm, hm. Yeah, that’s true.
After his B12 shot and vitamins, Sesco’s deflated ego perked up, his eyes sparkling again.
“Turkeys might be popular, but that’s dinner-table fame. Thanksgiving blip. You bald eagles? Soaring the skies, loved year-round.”
—Heh. Right. Spot on.
“But no need to grin like an idiot. I’m talking average bald eagles. You? Not in that league right now.”
—Me... me?
“Yeah, you.”
His startled flinch confirmed it: zero self-awareness.
“Sesco, get your head straight. Next month, the Saemangeum visitor controls U.S. arms deals. He sees America’s national bird—who can’t fly right, hunts nothing, just scarfs pre-cut beef? What’s he gonna think?”
—Uh... ‘Huh, some bald eagles are like this? Diversity!’ or something?
I shook my head firmly at his cockeyed tilt.
“You must not hear well from the distant bald eagle enclosure. Fairmont’s touring countries secretly to check bald eagles for a reason.”
—What’re you on about? Fairmont—that arms CEO guy—is superstitious, picks partners based on bald eagles per country, right?
Vet and handler gossip had Sesco spot-on about the situation.
Time to turn up the heat.
“Guess the full story didn’t reach you. No need to say more, then...”
—Min-hyeok! What’s with the cliffhanger? You know that’s the worst? Spill it!
“Eh... Might shock you, so...”
I pretended to hesitate, glanced around, then whispered in his snowy ear.
“You know I’m tight with Saemangeum’s CEO Jeong Yong-gun. I get insider info regular staff don’t.”
—Yeah, yeah, so what? Tell me!
Hot as a sizzling pan, he looked like he’d lose sleep if I bailed now.
“Keep this between us.”
—Min-hyeok, I’m zipped. Go on.
I tapped his yellow beak shut and whispered even softer.
“Listen close. Heard from Jeong himself: Fairmont’s checking bald eagles country-by-country to change the national bird.”
—What the fuck?! That’s insane! How do you change the national bird?
“Not insane. Roosevelt tried turkeys back in the day. Why not now? Israel and France favor turkeys; Germany and Italy, bald eagles. It’s on your performance. Turkey enclosure’s in chaos—training to impress him too.”
—Gyaak! No wayyy!!!
Sesco screeched piercingly again; I patted his wings to calm him.
Need to sync with Chunsam.
Chunsam, eyes and ears of Saemangeum, could spin the info.
Bribe him with extra durian rations.
“Relax. We’ll practice step-by-step. Flight takes time, but switch to fish for hunting practice first.”
—F-fish?
“I’ll ask handlers for dead ones to start. Adapt to that.”
—N-no! I can’t!
“...?”
Dead fish wouldn’t wriggle wildly.
That’s why I suggested it, but Sesco recoiled in horror.
“What’s hard? Close your eyes, eat. No eye contact. Get used to fish taste, then eyes open. Once comfy, live ones...”
—It’s not that I can’t eat fish.
“What? You called that largemouth bass gross earlier. Thought it creeped you out.”
Sesco drooped his sharp beak, shaking his snowy head.
—Truth is...
“Truth is what?”
—Sigh. Didn’t wanna say, tsk.
He twisted away, sighing deeply, then steeled himself.
—Promise first. Tell no one. Swear on your honor.
“I swear.”
—Ahem, so... I got bit by a fish once. Back in the States, Peter—the handler—gave me live fish, and then...
Like confession, wings limp, his tale spilled; I summed up.
“...So you ate live fish fine before the bite?”
—Yeah. Loved it most. But post-bite, flashbacks hit. Can’t approach fish—flinch automatically. Plus... those largemouths mock me. It’s mental torture.
“That’s why dead fish first.”
—Even dead, no use. Their eyes, face... trigger memories...
Fish are bald eagle staples.
Seeing him shiver over basics was absurd.
I’d love to say stick to diced beef forever, but no.
Fairmont checks specifics per country—like hunting.
Jeong said Israel, France tossed dead fish mid-air to test catches.
Italy, Korea likely same.
Must fix Sesco’s fragility in time.
“Sesco. Scared meeting their eyes?”
—Embarrassing... yeah. Eyes meet, flashbacks, chills...
Solution seemed easy.
“I’ll ask for headless fish.”
—...What?
“Headless. Problem solved.”
—Yeah, but... pride hit hard.
“Tell handlers, then flight training next.”
—Min-hyeok! I’m a bald eagle! Treat me right? Attitude’s too much! How can you dent my pride like...
As he chirped wildly, I raised a finger to hush his beak.
“Said it, right? No need to excel—just pretend. Think, Sesco. Not all bald eagles are brave.”
—True...
“Media cries? Not your voice—red-tailed hawk’s. Sorry, but bald eagles aren’t the majestic raptors you imagine.”
—Wh-what’d you say?
“Shocked? Movies use your face, hawk voice.”
—Damn! You’re done!
He shrieked; I soothed his belly.
“Calm. Screeching won’t help. Point is: for the next month, act like a Hollywood star with me.”
Swallowed the line about bald eagles having nothing but looks.
—H-Hollywood? Top actors worldwide?
Meant to soothe, but he latched on.
“Sure. Anyway, watch videos of real bald eagles, mimic. Remember: no need to be brave or tough. Look it.”
—Actor... cool.
“Yeah. Be the star. Keep bald eagles national bird with your performance.”
—St-star... Let’s do it!
Sesco’s real training began.
Bald eagles are social raptors.
Social raptors use ‘observational learning’—copying leaders.
Hand-reared Sesco missed parents, so mimic other raptors. Problem was...
“Higher!”
“Good. Fish won’t bite now? Live next.”
“Yes! Grab and soar higher!”
Other raptors had limits.
Three weeks at Saemangeum; one week to Fairmont.
He gulped live fish fine now, but one issue lingered.
—Min-hyeok. Can’t do high dives. Never tried, scary.
High-altitude dives.
Jeong’s urgent update: CEO checks dives every visit.
Must nail it to impress.
“What’s scary? You saw Chorong-i dive. Just copy her—no better needed.”
Chorong-i: Saemangeum’s ace golden eagle.
Similar size, raptor; paired as coach three weeks. Sesco begged swap—hated her.
—Ugh, can’t. She’s prickly as hell, brags golden eagles beat bald ones. How endure? Even acting, hate help from that jerk! Pride issue!
Honest... she’s right.
National Treasure 243, golden eagle: dark brown, white-barred tail.
Tougher looks than bald eagle; talons crush big cats. Dive speed 320km/h—fastest bird sans peregrine.
Sesco should bow, but pride lived.
Tricky. No time.
One week left; need sprint, but sulky? Stuck.
Other birds iffy—Sesco infamous among raptors. Only proud Chorong-i volunteered.
“Sigh. Okay. Training ends here. Review, calm down.”
—Got it.
Left gloomy Sesco, back to lodging.
“Problem.”
Hunting cleared—biggest hurdle.
Wings bulked; long flights fine. Dives needed work.
Flopped on bed, pondering six days—knock!
Knock knock!
Window tap; I looked.
“White sparrow?”
Albino sparrows happen.
But silver eyes on black? Not sparrow...
“Ssal-i?”
—Hehe. Yeah, Dad! Open up! It’s Ssal-i!
My boy.
“Ssal-i, how...? Come in.”
—Hehe. Yes!
Cracked window/screen; he hopped in, shifted to hefty Jindo mix, flopped into hug.
—Daaad! Missed you!
“Dad missed you too... How’d you get here unannounced?”
Taught genius Ssal-i phone for emergencies; not this.
—Missed you! Three weeks! Can’t stand apart! Who’s Dad for? Bald eagle Dad? Ssal-i’s Dad!
Whining, teary glare—super sulky.
“Sorry, boy. Dad slacked. Remember yesterday’s call? Dives still suck. Rest fine.”
—Why dives? Gave coach, right?
“Yeah... Coach grates; Sesco refuses.”
—Ask other birds?
“Not easy. Chorong-i most willing; others fierce, hate Sesco. Dad’d teach himself if could.”
—Then do it!
“...What?”
My grumble; his tail wagged wildly.
—Dad become bald eagle!
Me... a bird?