The following morning, Maddie was interrupted during her morning cup of coffee by a familiar fluttering of wings. Peeking out her French doors, she was greeted by the cocky strutting of Dizzy Dean along her balcony's railings. He boldly proceeded to the coop, where he settled in amongst his friends and brethren. Quickly finishing her coffee, Maddie dabbed her mouth and stepped outside. Picking up Dizzy Dean, her nose was tickled by an unfamiliar odor.
    "What have you been in, D.D?" she thought. As she read the letter, she unsuccessfully stifled a giggle.

Maddie;
         Apology accepted. Don't worry a minute about it; glad to hear all is well. Give Leslie my best and congratulations to Jeanie. John and his ilk were by yesterday. Ever since his father died, they have been treating me as more of a father/grandfather than uncle. Gave me a necktie - useless, I never wear them - and aftershave for my birthday. Of course, I already have twelve bottles of the stuff. Can't even smell it over the birds and Lysol. I put a dab behind Dizzy dean's neck for you to smell. What do you think?
                                                            Benjamin
 

"You silly old thing,"  Maddie mused.  "This is the first time that you've done anything like this. Of course, I've periodically scented my letters for some time; he's never commented on it but apparently his sense of smell isn't too deadened to not have noticed. Poor babies! Dizzy Dean's got you sneezing."  Gabriel and Babe were huddled in the corner, puffed up and miserable-looking, and the others were blinking and a-chooing in tiny, fitful bursts. "Well, D.D., you stink, so I'm afraid you're making the return run today. One minute, love."  She sat at her kitchen table and quickly penned a reply. Maddie paused briefly as she folded it, considering whether to add cologne this time. Deciding that it would be gilding the lily, she passed on adding any further insult to D.D.'s nose. Upon standing, Maddie felt somewhat dizzy and clutched at her chair.  "Slow down, gal; you'll be feeling your age if you don't. I must be catching Leslie's bug."   Within a minute or so, Maddie was feeling better. Slowly walking to the balcony, she placed the letter on Dizzy Dean, released him, then went inside to lie down a bit.

Scanning the heavens like a farmer looking for rain, Benjamin stood in front of the window. Humming tunelessly, he ran the dishwater and cleaned up his single place setting. “The advantage of living alone is that you don't have much to clean up,” he wryly thought to himself. Not that having additional housecleaning would be a worthwhile tradeoff at times, but I guess that a lifetime of habits would tax the patience of the best of women...the best... Suddenly snapped out of his daydreaming, Benjamin's eyes caught the incoming silhouette of a pigeon. As soon as Dizzy Dean landed, the bird was relieved of his cargo.

Dear Benjamin:

A "dab" indeed! I thank you for the sample to sniff, but the birds appeared to dislike it. A star on your chart for the thought though. Not to sound like I'm nagging, but you know that John and his family truly care for you. And we both know that you feel the same toward them, if you weren't too stubborn to admit it. I'm going to keep this short, as I'm going to indulge in one of the few luxuries of old age and take an afternoon nap.
                    Fondly, Maddie
 
P.S. Thanks for the subtle hint, but I haven't forgotten your birthday. I'll send Babe back with your gift Saturday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
    Well, well, you made it: three-quarters of a century! Now quit groaning, youngster; I have no sympathy with people grumbling about their age. I personally cherish every moment added to my life. Every additional year builds upon my growing library of bittersweet experiences - I'm happy to count you among those times. Enclosed is a gift certificate for the book store two blocks down from you. The amount is for that book on Baseball Greats that you had mentioned in the past. I know that you'll enjoy the chapters on the Yankees and the Red Soxs. Also expect a cake delivery sometime this evening. Dark chocolate with slivers of burnt almonds - your favorite, I believe. Enjoy! I'd better stop now or Babe will get a hernia from delivering this.

        Affectionately yours,
            Maddie

    Benjamin felt very full, not only with his birthday meal, but also with the attention of his friend. Loosening his belt and leaning back in his chair, he thought to himself, its moments like this that make living this long worthwhile.

"Thank goodness for Tony! I don't know what I would have done without him these past few days; he's been keeping you all healthy,"  Maddie apologized to her pigeons, uncharacteristically still in her gown at 10:00 AM. Her kitchen table was covered in various over the counter potions, used in an attempt to ease the numerous symptoms which had attacked her of late. The first two days she put it down as the flu: chills and fever, nausea, the usual. But other problems began: trembling periods, blurring vision, sores on her arms and abdomen, times when her tongue would cleave to her mouth and her lips would crack. She picked up her calendar, noting that her doctor's appointment was at 2:00 today. Lord, she hated doctors with a passion and had managed to avoid them for most of her life, but not today. She had also managed to avoid most of Benjamin's questioning this past week, but he was persistent. She reread the letter that he sent regarding his birthday:

Maddie:
    Thanks for your kind gift. Babe had no problem bringing it; good thing you did not send the book itself, Ha, Ha! I went and got the book this morning; it is marvelous. Has trivia even I did not know. The cake was delicious. We all enjoyed it; I gave each of the feathered "kids" a small piece. I wish you could have had some. Got to go. Time to begin working on my next quarter century.

    Take care and thanks again.
        Benjamin

P.S. Noticed that your usually superb penmanship was a bit shaky today. Your fountain pen actually left blotches. Why not join the rest of us modern folk and use a ball-point? I have an extra Cross pen I can give you; I got it one year instead of a tie.

"Bless him," she gently smiled. "He constantly surprises me - noticing my handwriting. I can't have him worrying about me.” Gathering her writing supplies, she began.

In the twilight haze, a lone flyer came sharply into view. Sitting on the fire escape, Benjamin had been keeping watch for just this event all afternoon. Every loose chip of paint had been picked off the metal railing by Ben's nervous fingers. Without ceremony, he removed the letter and drank in the paper's words:

Benjamin:
    It sounds like you and the "kids" had a good party. Believe me, I was there in spirit. May you have many, many, more. As to my handwriting - keep your Cross pen, thank you very much. My fountain pen is much more expressive of me. Your "modern folks" line sent me giggling; this comes from a man who still uses a 25 year old black and white TV. When are you going to join the modern world of color? Enough said! I blame the new nib of my pen on the blotches; it still needs to be broken in more. In truth, I have been a bit ill this week, but not to worry, I'm seeing the doctor today. I should be back to myself in no time.

    With care and prayers,
        Maddie

The letter did not seem to contain any menacing information. Why then did Benjamin feel such a fleeting, yet unmistakable, dread race through his heart?

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