The Magic Parakeet

From the pen of the Web Master of
I Love White Folks For Kids

Chapter One

One day a small boy named Dennis, who was the son of a carpenter, was playing in his back yard. He had his toy trucks, and plastic army men all set up around his dirt fort. Things were really getting exciting as the fort was being attacked by imaginary invaders, when all at once a large gray cat jumped over the backyard fence. It had something yellow and green in its mouth, and as it ran by, Dennis heard a voice cry out, "Help me, please!"

Dennis was shocked to hear a voice, but then he realized that the cat had a parakeet in his mouth. He jumped to his feet and quickly chased the cat into a corner of the yard, where he was able to grab it as it tried to go over the fence again. The cat clawed Dennis's hand and in an attempt to bite him, dropped the bird. Dennis threw the cat over the fence and it ran away as fast as it could go.

He bent over to see if the bird was still alive as it lay on the ground. Its little chest was bloody, but it was moving in and out. The parakeet was still alive. Dennis picked it up and carried it into his house, where he found a nice shoebox to fill with soft rags and to lay the bird down in, where it could be comfortable. He got it some water and something to eat, and in a few hours the bird was looking much better.

"Thank you for saving me, Dennis!" the parakeet said.

Dennis was shocked to hear the bird call him by name. Birds could mimic speech he knew, but they could not talk. This sounded like the bird could really talk. "You're welcome, Mr. Bird," he replied. "How come you can talk?"

"Ah, I am not an ordinary bird," said he. "I am a magic parakeet, the likes of which you have never seen."

"Wow! A magic parakeet," said Dennis, his eyes growing round and large. "What kind of magic can you do?"

"I can do many types of magic but what I am going to do for you is to grant you three wishes for having saved my life." The parakeet tilted his head to the side to better see the reaction his statement had on Dennis.

"Three wishes!" Dennis jumped up and down like a jack-in-the-box, just after the lid has popped open. He could have all the candy in the world, and so many toys that he would not know what to do with them all. Everyone else would be jealous of his good fortune. His mind was too full of the many possibilities to settle on just one.

For some reason, at that moment, he had a picture of his father's face and he remembered the stories that Daddy had told him of people who did nice things for others, and made things better for people, instead of making things better for themselves. What could he do to help those around him? He ran to ask his Daddy.

Daddy was in his shop, cutting some wood for the tabletop to a coffee table he was making for a friend of his. Dennis waited, feeling all swollen up like he was going to pop. He knew better than to interrupt Daddy until he finished his cut.

Dennis fidgeted around, looking up at all of the tools Dad had hanging on the walls, and enjoying the smell of freshly cut wood. He remembered the time when a little piece of sawdust had stuck in his eye, and Daddy had had him look way to the right, and then he blew the nasty little thing right out.

At last Daddy reached a point where he could stop and talk, and he turned around and said, "What's on your mind, Son?"

"I have an important question to ask you, Daddy," said Dennis.

"Okay, Denny," replied Dad, "What do you want to know?"

"I was wondering, if you could make a magic wish, what wish would it be? I know you would want to help as many people as possible."

"Well," said Dad, "that is a tough one. There are so many problems that need to be solved in this world. It is hard to pick just one."

"It doesn't have to be just one, Daddy!" Dennis was very excited now. "You can pick three problems to fix."

"In that case, I guess the first problem I would fix would be diversity," said Dad.

"Die-verse-ah... what?" asked Dennis.

"Diversity, my little man. It is confusion. It is what happens when many types of people are thrown together where they fight all the time. It is what humans have always done. When you are around your own type of people you get along, but when other types are around there is fighting."

"I have seen some of that fighting in school," said Dennis. "The Black boys act tough and push you around. And some of the White boys get into fights with them."

"It happens in the world of adults too," said Dad. "The politicians are all pushed around by the different kinds of people too. They forget all about their own people, and even their own country, in order to deal the problems created by diversity."

"You mean the President of the United States gets pushed around?"

"Probably more than anyone else does!" replied Dad.

"It is not that other people are evil," said Dad. "It is that they are human. All humans naturally want to stick together with their own kind. They feel more comfortable and safer with their own people. And they stick up for their own people."

"So, what is wrong with die-ver- city?" asked Dennis with some difficulty in pronouncing the word.

"When you have many types of people," said Dad, "each type pulling to get its own way, you have fighting and unhappiness. You might even have people killing each other. Diversity will always cause trouble. That is why it would be better if it were gone from America."

"But how can you get rid of diversity with a wish?" (There, he finally got the word out correctly!)

"Well, if there really were magic, you could wish that all people who are not White Gentiles would have an irresistible urge — that is, a desire so great they'd have to follow it — to live somewhere outside of White countries, like all of Europe, and North America. In other words you could wish that all those people would want to leave White countries so badly that they would actually do it."

"Okay," said Dennis, as he turned to leave. "Thanks, Dad!"

Dad stood there watching his little boy run off and smiled. "The things that get into a kid's head," he mumbled, as he turned back to his work.

Chapter Two

"Ladies and gentlemen..."  The news reporter looked very excited as he spoke from the television screen. "It appears to be happening all over the country. The streets are jammed with cars and foot traffic. Bicycles are everywhere. People are moving. The airlines and the bus companies are doing record business today. All across America there are people on the move. Most seem to have one common direction: South! Those that started in Southern California have already crossed over into Mexico. The border officials have been overwhelmed, and the mass of people just continues to grow."

The camera panned over a human mass, moving as one, in the apparently magnetic direction of South. Dad looked at the people composing that crowd, and did not see a single White face in it. There were a number of nearly-White faces, but they were clearly not White. The reporter seemed to be avoiding that fact as he continued to describe the day's happenings. Apparently, as if by command, people all at once decided that they wanted to move out of the USA. They did not want to move to Canada it appeared, for none of them headed in that direction. In fact many were coming down from Canada into the USA, but it seemed that they were just passing through.

"Pardon me, sir," said the reporter as he stuck his microphone in the face of one of the travelers. "Where are you going... and why?"

"I'm leaving this racist land, where Black folks are not wanted," replied the walker.

"What do you mean?" asked the reporter. "This is America, the land of Dr. Martin Luther King, the land that celebrates diversity!"

"Get real, will you? This is a White land, made for White people. Other people are on the outside. I want to be on the inside, and so I'm leaving."

With that, the traveler returned to his migration, and for a moment, the reporter was at a loss for words.

Dad felt a chill run up his back. This was just too big of a coincidence. He turned to his son and asked, "Denny, why did you want to know this morning what I would wish for? Did you find Aladdin's Lamp or something?"

"Nope," replied Dennis. "I just found a magic parakeet."

"Oh, I see," said Dad, who didn't see at all.

The next day the news was filled with stories of how the migrants were destroying property, and the residents were retaliating. Also, Mexico was in no position to handle the sudden influx of people. Things were getting very ugly, very quickly.

Dad was out in his workshop, putting the finishing touches on the table, getting it ready for staining, when Dennis came out to talk again.

"Hi, Daddy," said Dennis, looking very serious. "I think the first wish is going along very well and so I wanted to know what the second problem is that you would like to wish away."

"Just a minute there, Tiger," said Dad. "Do you mean to tell me that you wished for all the non-Whites to leave this country and they are doing it?"

"North America and Europe, just like you said," replied Dennis.

"Maybe it is time for me to meet your magic parakeet," said Dad, still a bit skeptical.

"Polly want a cracker," Dad said to the bird. It was yellow and green, and it looked perfectly normal, except for the long dark streak down its chest, which looked like dried blood.

"No, thank you, sir," replied the parakeet. "I have already eaten."

Dad's jaw dropped open and he looked like he had seen a ghost. This bird actually talked to him. It did not repeat words, but it really talked.

" Did you give my son three wishes?" he asked. He figured that he might as well cut right to the chase.

"Dennis saved my life, and as a reward, I granted him three wishes."

The next few days weighed heavily on Dad's shoulders. The idea that his wish for a White land would actually be granted never crossed his mind when he was originally discussing it with Dennis. He thought, "Imagine what would have happened if I had said something flippant." It made him shudder.

The second wish was going to have to take care of the fallout from wish number one. So, when he finally passed the wish along to Dennis, he said, "Wish that all of the migrants who have left and who are still leaving White lands will be transported to their final destination instantly, and that they will arrive with plenty of money, food will be plentiful, and safe shelter can be found for them. In other words, they will be safe and comfortable as they get settled into their new lands."

Television had not worked very well the last couple of days. Nearly all of the people who owned the networks had gotten on planes for Israel, and the newspapers were in a similar fix. Reporters and actors alike had left the country. So, the news was not a high-quality production tonight when they sat down to watch it.

"They just disappeared," cried the reporter. "The road was so jammed that a bicycle could not have made it through the throng, and then suddenly the road was empty. Completely empty. Here is a home video that someone just happened to be taking at that moment..."

On the screen could be seen the crush of thousands of people all heading in the same direction. Then, all at once, the street was completely deserted. It looked like the trick photography they used to use in old TV shows like I Dream of Jeannie, where the camera was turned off and something was taken out of the view of the camera and it was then turned on again. The effect was quite striking.

"It looks like wish number two has worked," said Dad.

"There have been reports from Africa," continued the reporter, "and from China, as well as several points in South America, of people magically appearing, and along with them food, and module homes, with enough room for all of them to sleep. It has been impossible to get a reputable scientist to come on camera and discuss this event. It appears to be outside the laws of physics."

Chapter Three

"I wish that there will be a thriving space complex which includes self-sufficient colonies of White people, on the moon, Mars, and in a large space station constructed for the maintenance, and the launching, of spacecraft, and a large fleet of spacecraft capable of traveling to any point in the solar system." Denny had to read this last wish, to make sure that he got it all right.

The bird blinked once, and said, "Your three wishes are granted. I have never in my life granted three wishes to anyone who did not wish something for only his own personal use. Because you have been so selfless in your wishes, I will grant you, Denny, a long life, vast wealth and happiness. You will one day have many children of your own, and you will be loved by them all."

"Thank you, Mr. Bird," said Denny. "Is there anything that I can do for you?"

"No, you have done quite enough," said the bird. It flapped its wings once, and suddenly became a large and glowing man, who carried a shield and shining hammer. "My people have once again been given life. You will not be forgotten, my little friend."

Dennis watched the man walk proudly into the back yard, and hit his hammer against his shield. Suddenly, out of the sky, dropped a flaming chariot, pulled by two giant goats. He stepped up on the chariot, and he called out, "Dennis, you and I will meet again."

With that he slapped the reins and the chariot leaped into the sky and was gone in a flash.


Dennis grew up in a world of change. The school work became much tougher, but he handled it well. The jails were nearly empty and the streets were much safer. The television showed things that were meant to make White folks feel good about their culture and themselves. There were White heroes saving the day, and positive depictions of White culture. There was a lot less traffic on the streets and taxes became much smaller. There was still a lot of work to be done, but he could feel it: they were heading in the right direction.

Dennis was fifteen when he took his first trip to Mars, and there he met a girl named Krissy whom he married five years later. Just as predicted, they did have lots of children, who loved both of them very much, and some of their children ended up living on each of the inhabited planets. And Thor came to see him again just like he promised...  but that is another story.

The End

To Al Tales