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into Mrs. Sampson’s house. Now she was examining the top of her head in Mrs. Sampson’s front hall mirror.
    “Well, I’ve never seen such a crow-motion,” Grandma said, slamming the door. “Here, use my sweater, Fred.”
    Daddy spread Grandma’s sweater on the table and laid the baby crow on top of it. “Please step back, everyone … all but Keisha. I need a little help examining the patient.”
    Aaliyah, Wen and Grandma were familiar with this part of animal rescuing, too. They knew how stressful these situations were for the birds and the other animals, and so they stepped back and stayed quiet.
    “I was an army nurse,” Mrs. Sampson said, standing behind a dining room chair and turning off the overhead light. There was plenty of light coming through the window. The baby crow was as big as a twenty-ounce soda bottle, with eyes the color of the blue rock candy they bought at Charley’s candy store.
    Daddy took hold of the crow’s head. Cradling it in his fingers so the crow couldn’t bite him, he turned the little head back and forth. Keisha watched closely.
    “It doesn’t look like a baby,” Aaliyah whispered as Daddy pressed his fingers along each wing to check for injuries.
    “Crows grow quickly, Aaliyah. When a bird this big can’t fly, people think it’s injured, even though it may just be young.”
    The little crow opened its mouth and gave a baby-crow-sized caw.
    “You’re hurting it, Fred,” Grandma whispered.
    “No, Mom. I think that’s a good sign. He’s scared, but he’s hungry.”
    Even though the Carter rescue team had stepped back, Mrs. Sampson leaned forward to examine the patient. Keisha noticed her nose was very close to the crow’s beak.
    “I served as a nurse in the Sixty-eighth Women’s Army Corps, arriving 1943, in Cairo, Egypt. I was stationed at the medevac hospital there.” She leaned back and polished her glasses. “There’s nothing wrong with this crow that a competent nurse can’t fix.”
    “You may be right, Mrs. Sampson. Keisha, can I get some help?” Daddy took the crow in one hand and put out his palm. Keisha removed the lid of the Tupperware container. The strong smell of egg/cricket/puppy chow that had sat in a hot truck filled the room.
    “That’s quite an odor,” Mrs. Sampson remarked.
    Keisha noticed Aaliyah was plugging her nose.
    “Maybe it smells good to a crow,” Wen suggested.
    “Crows don’t have a sense of smell,” Daddy added. “When you think about it, that probably comes in handy with some of the things they eat.”
    “Don’t tell us any more until after lunch, Mr. Carter,” Aaliyah pleaded. “I’m begging you.…”
    Daddy nodded to Keisha, who began making pea-sized lumps out of the food in the container. She lined them up on the edge of the table. “Aaliyah, will you get a glass of water to fill this syringe?”
    “I have some distilled water in the fridge,” Mrs. Sampson said. “That would be more hygienic.”
    “That’s even better than our filtered water. I’ll get it. Which way is the kitchen?”
    Mrs. Sampson pointed, and Grandma disappeared down the hall. As Keisha watched her go, she noticed the clothes draped over the chairs and the old newspapers piled up in the corner. All these things meant that Mrs. Sampson’s home was not in tip-top shape, something the Carters had to make their home every Sunday morning before church. Mrs. Sampson’s house probably hadn’t been tip-top for some time.
    Daddy shifted the little crow so he could hold up its head while keeping its wings pinned to its body. “I pronounce this crow healthy … and hungry. Keisha?”
    Keisha had a lot of experience feeding baby birds and her fingers were smaller than Daddy’s, so she usually got the job of stuffing the bird food mush down the birds’ throats. Then, after the birds weren’t so frightened, Keisha or Daddy could use the syringe to get some water in them.
    She pressed one of the blobs of food onto her pointer finger and