Owloween
IV
OCTOBER 26
The next morning it was raining. The rest of the colorful leaves were knocked off the trees. The leaves remaining hung on like decomposing flesh. The limbs and boughs angled out like charred bones. We were supposed to go to Chief Odayin’s funeral that afternoon, but Grandpa Joseph said that it was called off due to the incidents and they were going to have it when things calmed down. They eventually did have the funeral after these events, I remember it was really cold. Even though a lot of people died, it seemed as if the chief’s funeral was where people went to morn for everyone. When the chief died it seemed to be the nexus of everything and when it was over, it only seemed appropriate that his funeral would be the one we would all attend together as a community.
I always thought it was strange that there was never any dust clouds when a car drove down our gravel lane in the rain. I understood that the dust was now matted with water and too heavy to rise. I still expected the big dust cloud even with that knowledge. I loved how the rain felt on my skin. The fall colors that withstand the rain are more poignant and stampede my brain every year. I stood out in the rain, letting it roll off my hair while I studied the sparse stark leaves that morning.
The O’Neil’s Buick drove down the lane while I was standing there leaning on a shovel. Two men were in the car. When they pulled up to the house, Grandpa Joseph was outside waiting for them. He contentedly pulled off of his cigarette underneath the eaves of the porch while the car splashed up. Prof. Klemm stepped out of the car in a full navy suit and opened his tiny plaid umbrella. The other man stepped out of the passenger’s seat. He was a sight to see, let me tell you. The first time I saw him I thought he was a walking rainbow. He had green shoes and orange pants. My two favorite colors. So I immediately liked him. But on top of that he wore a stark purple shirt and a large brown hat with a feather in the band. He put the hat on as he stepped out of the car. His hair was a huge pile of swirling white cotton. It was like a billowing cloud. And the hat pressed it down but didn’t take any of the spring out of it. He stopped a moment to light a long pipe that reached down to his solar plexus and rub his beard. His beard was plain wild, just all over the place. He tilted his head when he drew in the smoke and then bobbed it around slightly as he blew it out. Grandpa Joseph put his leathery hand above his eyes to rub his forehead. Prof. Klemm strutted towards him, immaculately groomed in his navy suit. The other man ambled beside him, absently looking out into the field, smoking. I walked closer to hear what they said.
-So they couldn’t get you to evacuate? Said the other man, staring off to space.
-No sir, said Grandpa Joseph.
-Hi, I’m Oliver Veggente, I study owls.
Grandpa Joseph spat. Then shook his hand.
-Nice to meet you Dr. Veggente.
-And why’d you decide to stay?
-Well, my cows have been gone missing for years, but I haven't yet.
Dr. Veggente chuckled. Prof. Klemm was shocked. Grandpa Joseph hadn’t given him any information before. He had been a steel trap and immediately he started talking to Dr. Veggente.
-How many cows? Asked Dr. Veggente, writing in his notebook. And when did it start?
-Well, we never knew what it was, thought it was wolves, but if it was wolves, there’d be more blood. About 16 years ago the first one disappeared. And we’ve lost about 15 this year.
-15?
-Yessir. Lost one a few nights ago.
-Really!? said Prof. Klemm, finally losing his composure for a second, his voice reaching a high shriek.
-Yep, said Grandpa Joseph staring back at him.
-Who else has been losing cattle? Asked Dr. Veggente.
-Well, damn near everyone, there’s a bunch of cattle operations around here and you could go talk to every one of them and they’ll share a similar story. Can I ask you guys a question?
-Sure.
-What do you think?
-It’s owls. You know that, said Prof. Klemm sharply.
-Easy, Lester, said Dr. Veggente. We are unsure at the moment, but likely a mutation in a local owl has created a mysterious breed of this large phenotype. They seem to be the predominant predator in the area. And somehow they have decided to challenge the human domination of the food chain.
-What would make them do that?
-Well, like humans and ants, I believe they may be working together.
I noticed Professor Klemm scoffed slightly.
-I hear they are great horneds, said Grandpa Joseph, ignoring Prof. Klemm.
-That’s right. What do you think?
-I think the Ojibwa are right. I think they are evil shamans come back from hell to terrorize us for our transgressions. Don’t ask me how they came back from hell- maybe they are mutations like you say. But mutations have to come from somewhere. Some force caused it. And that is an evil force. And I say hell is the notion of endless time. Of endless pain. And someone who did wrong, someone banished to punishment for eternity, will lash out at those that did right, because they believe they’ve been wronged by the right. And maybe they created these mutations. And I just hope they don’t kill everyone around here.
-Kill everyone? If you think that, why would you stay here on this farm? Asked Prof. Klemm quickly and irritated with Grandpa Joseph's philosophical meanderings.
-Well, if they kill me, then they kill me, but I ain’t running anywhere, no matter what steps into my yard. The day you start running is the day you forget where you came from, what you learned and what you know to be true. No matter what it costs you to stay. I’d be teaching Buffalo here a hell of a lesson if we just got up and left any time there’s a crisis.
-There are some who think they always have the tendency to work in groups. Said Dr. Veggente. Have you ever seen that? What do you think of that?
-If that is true, they never killed no human beings. Either because they weren’t capable or were afraid. Well that ain’t a problem anymore. I just hope they don’t like it. Hope they don’t have a taste for it.
-We appreciate your time, sir, said Dr. Veggente, Have you seen anything else on your land? Feathers or feces?
-Well, said Grandpa Joseph, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray, now that you mention it, we might have something that could be of interest to you.
We grabbed some shovels and trudged back down through the pasture. Professor Klemm was beside himself. His face was red, and veins were popping out of his neck. Dr. Veggente seemed to get no end of pleasure out of Prof. Klemm’s frustration. Grandpa Joseph seemed oblivious to their obvious contention.
-What is the meaning of this? Blurted out Prof. Klemm finally when we reached the body. How could you not tell me about this a couple days ago? This bird has been dead for a week.
-Just found it, said my Grandpa Joseph.
Prof. Klemm clenched his fists and threw a tantrum stomping out in the pasture and then back towards us before cooling off. He even got a little rain on his head. He matted it back down in perfect formation before remembering to put his umbrella back up.
-You guys got a truck? asked Dr. Veggente.
-Yep, said Grandpa Joseph.
We hauled up that heavy owl and dumped it in the back of the bed of the truck. I have to admit that Dr. Veggente gained my respect because he helped us heave it up. He didn’t care that the decaying body of the owl was pressed right up against his chest. And it forced that poor bastard Prof. Klemm to help out. Which was funny because he was standing back there expecting us to do everything. He had his arms pretty well extended when he helped us hoist up the owl. He wasn’t interested in dirtying up that suit. Grandpa Joseph put some bungee cords around it to secure it in the truck bed. We had to keep the gate down.
We must have been a sight to see to people that were evacuating the area. We had this huge lump of bird hanging out the back when we rolled into town. I have to admit, looking back and seeing those massive feet hanging out the back of the truck made me laugh. Even Grandpa Joseph looked in the rearview mirror and cracked a wrinkled smile. It lasted about a second, but I know I saw it.
I looked at the O’Neil’s Buick following us. Dr. Veggente had put his passenger side chair back slightly and closed his eyes. Prof Klemm was loudly talking and gesticulating wildly.
Capt. Terrell stood outside the police station when we arrived. She waved for us to stop and jumped in the truck beside me.
-Head down to the O’Neil house, she said. They are letting us use it as a makeshift laboratory now after what happened to their poor little boy, she said, and letting the ornithologists use their car.
I was more than a little uncomfortable/aroused with her sitting next to me, I gotta tell you. She was so gorgeous. I’m not sure she got the vibe from me that I liked her. I hope she didn’t. I felt like an idiot for being more attracted to my girlfriend’s mom than my girlfriend. Her arm hung out the window and that fiery red hair whipped around in the breeze. The navy police uniform did wonders for her too. I liked older women. Or at least I did when I was sitting next to her.
As we drove to the other side of town it was more obvious that most of the town had evacuated or were on the way out. The place was barren. Any cars still parked on the side of the street were packed to the brim with clothes and other necessary household items. Anyone who was moving out to their car carrying suitcases or packing their car stopped and stared with their mouths wide open when they saw us with the bird. The rain was our only interested company.
We unloaded the bird when we arrived at the O’Neil’s. We were able to get it through the large plate glass sliding doors. Two long banquet tables had been set up. One of them had an owl already laid out on it. It was in immaculate condition. I jumped a little when I saw it, expecting it to get up off the table and mutilate us all.
-We brought the embalmed bird over while you were out at Joseph’s, Lester, said Captain Terrell to Prof. Klemm when they arrived.
-Thanks Katrina, said Prof. Klemm.
-We are putting your things over there, Dr. Veggente, she said pointing to a corner of the room.
Donovan then stepped through the front door, with a morose expression. He was pretty torn up about his partner. He had a trombone case with an owl feather painted on the side of it and set it down with Dr. Veggente’s things.
I stared at the trombone case – was Dr. Veggente the mysterious player from last night? And if he was, why was he playing out in the country near our farm? In the middle of the night? With rabid owls on the loose?
-What’s in the music case? Asked Capt. Terrell.
-Scientific instruments.
Dr. Veggente walked around the living room looking at the photographs of the O’Neil’s and their family vacations. He found a radio and turned it on. A DJ’s voice blared out of it. He grimaced slightly and changed the station until Werewolves of London came on.
He picked up a tulip out of a vase and started fondling it. He threw his hat into a chair and his mess of white hair bounced back up, breathing again.
Prof. Klemm, Capt. Terrell, Grandpa Joseph and I stood around watching him. It was then that I noticed the other weird owl, with a mashed heart shaped head, dark grey feathers and coal black eyes. It must have been looking the other way before. It was in a large gilded cage on the floor.
-Well, said Prof. Klemm, one thing we need to do is make sure everyone in town has evacuated…
-Why’d you bring me up here Lester? Why did you come all the way down to Mexico to get me? Dr. Veggente interjected, still fondling the tulip, I assume it wasn’t to apologize for ruining my career.
Dr. Veggente sat down in a lazy boy and put his green shoes on the coffee table, continuing to fondle the tulip. Donovan came in suddenly with a box full of glass beakers and flasks that clinked together. Some spilled out grotesquely blue colored liquid that was most certainly toxic, seeping onto the floor. Jars of formaldehyde. A water tank with a wonderpus octopus in it. Donovan put it on the table loudly, with glass beakers and jars clinking and crashing, as Prof. Klemm watched him, annoyed by Donovan's interruption of the moment. Then Donovan looked around, and sensing the tension between Dr. Veggente and Prof. Klemm, picked up the beakers quietly.
-Well, what would I say if I think there might be some validity to your theories, said Prof. Klemm, seemingly going against every fiber in his body to lend some credence to Dr. Veggente.
-Come on Lester, I’m not naïve. Said Dr. Veggente setting down the tulip.
-Are you not at all interested in figuring out what’s happening? said Prof. Klemm through his teeth.
- As you know when you, and others, were destroying my reputation, great horneds are my specialty, but there are a few things you should know about since I’ve been down in Mexico.
-Know about what? I know that we need to make sure the town is evacuated and I know that when the national guard shows up we need to be able to intelligently tell them where to look for these owls.
-And where do you suggest we look?
-Well, that’s the problem, they could be about anywhere.
-César, tu tecolote Viejo, por cinco minutos, okay? Said Dr. Veggente suddenly.
-What the hell are you talking about, Oliver, said Prof. Klemm.
-You’re going to have to keep an open mind Lester.
-Where do you suggest we look?
-No idea. But there are certain strategies that might help us out. But I doubt you need me, you are quite confident in all the established theories.
Just then we all noticed that Donovan was staring at the owl’s face. He had moved up towards the cage, and was completely entranced. The owl looked back at him with those dark eyes. It was spooky. The owl had this look on its face like, ‘I know what you’re thinking.’ It was insane. You can believe me or not, but it happened. It was like some sort of bizarre zoo hypnotism show. Dr. Veggente lit up his pipe right in the living room and watched. We were all watching.
-Donovan! Shouted Capt. Terrell. Donovan!
-What’s going on? Said Prof. Klemm. What is this? They were all on edge. I looked at Grandpa Joseph and he watched with great interest.
Dr. Veggente stood up and took out an instrument that was hanging around his neck by a chain, it was some sort of crystal locket. It looked like a compass crossed with a magnifying glass. He flashed it at Donovan’s eyes. Donovan shook his head frantically as Prof. Klemm watched in astonishment. Then Donovan stumbled backwards, briefly looked at the dirty carcass lying on the table, and fell down, smashing into some boxes stacked in the corner. He stood up and gathered himself, then stumbled quickly out of the room through the smoke of Dr. Veggente’s pipe. The owl blinked.
-What was that?! Exclaimed Prof. Klemm.
-I doubt you are ready to hear this one.
-Try me.
-Owls cast spells.
-What?
-There’s no sense in talking to you.
-Please, Oliver, explain. I’m willing to believe any insane idea you propose after seeing that.
-Owls can hypnotize humans if we stare into their eyes long enough. It’s different strength for different owls. This Mexican screaming owl is particularly potent.
-What is that around your neck?
-It’s just a little instrument that will knock you back to reality.
-What does it do?
-Well now Lester, I won’t be divulging that information to you anytime soon, no matter how nice you try to be towards me. Look how happy we are together. Anyway, back to our current catastrophe. You should be absolutely perfectly equipped to handle it. For god’s sake, Lester, you are the world’s leading expert on great horned owls. Now look at this, we are like brothers right now. Look how friendly we are.
-What is going to happen to Donovan?! Said Capt. Terrell in anguish.
This is what Dr. Oliver Veggente said as best as I can remember. As with all the things Dr. Veggente said, I might not get everything exactly right -
-Oh don’t worry, I’ve unclouded his mind - Cesar is well trained and probably just made him aware of the owl’s mind, maybe Donovan would have been attracted to darkness if I hadn’t shifted him back to reality. I’ve seen particularly devious owls that could hold whole towns in a trance. The owls would be out in the trees beckoning the people to bring them food. The worst are barn owls. Thankfully most of them are shy. But backed into a corner by a human and they’ll get you to do the craziest things. You ever hear of someone losing their arm in a wood chipper or accidentally falling on a pitchfork? Several of those are barn owl induced. A Cuban screech owl is something I also find difficult to work with. One of my technicians had to be institutionalized, and a group of snowy owls in my care expired from mental anguish after coming in contact with one.
Some owls are capable of inducing trances that last longer than others. The Mexican Screaming owl has a fairly short trance time. Or TT as I call it. Unfortunately, the great horned has a long one, but rarely uses it. The Interspecies Mind Interface or ISMI is what allows this to happen. More specifically for our purposes is the Human Owl Mind Interface or HOMI. Some animals can lock minds. Their brain activity becomes synchronized with one another. This rarely occurs in equal fashion. What that means is that the ultimate yin yang experience between minds can happen in the same species. But among different species one is usually always dominant over the other. In the case of humans and owls, owls are dominant and can control the HOMI. Other examples of this seem to be the Dolphin Shark Mind Interface, called the DSMI – the shark being submissive. And the Human Chicken Mind Interface. But others I’m not aware of and it is just a burgeoning science. These ideas were originally established by a psychologist named Ferenc Volgyesi who once hypnotized every animal in the Budapest Zoo.
-What are you saying? That some species can put others in a trance? Are you saying that these owls might have some people in a trance?
-It’s possible. But everyone seemed to evacuate the town willingly, didn’t they? Said Dr. Veggente looking back and forth between us over his pipe. So now you see why I wasn’t as difficult to bring up here from Mexico City, Lester.
-You hit me in the face and were completely drunk when I got down there, so it wasn’t that easy.
-True.
Dr. Veggente picked up a feather from one of the giant owls. He held it in the tips of his fingers, tantalizingly. It grazed the ceiling. It was then that I noticed the feather was the same type that was painted on the side of the trombone case. He took off his wide brimmed green hat, and scratched his wild white hair. He put his hat back on, and tugged on his beard with his calloused stained hands. I noticed that the feather in the hat was also of the same type.
-My god, said Dr. Veggente, regarding the humungous feather in his hands in awe as he spun it around. Have you completed any genetic testing?
-We are still working on it; we are also working on a pellet we found.
Dr. Veggente sat down, looked at the feather in his hand. I watched him examine his conscience. He sighed. He packed his pipe deliberately, staying silent and repressing the anticipation and eagerness of Prof. Klemm so he could examine his own thoughts. He took out his lighter, marked with what seemed to be some obscure tequila brand logo, lit the pipe and sat back in the chair. It looked like they were going to bury the hatchet. I can’t imagine. When Noah and I have a fight for 5 min it takes a lot of effort to bury the hatchet. It seems these guys hated each other for years.
-So Lester, he finally said, why in god’s name did you bring me up here, it couldn’t have been to hear about the trance phenomenon, as I doubt you have thought about it.
Prof. Klemm sucked in his breath. I thought that was going to be the end of the reconciliation. Prof. Klemm, however many faults he had, surprised me here and swallowed his pride.
-Well, although I believe most of your theories to be utterly ridiculous and pseudoscience at best, one night when I was doing field work…don’t laugh, I still do it once in a while. Anyway, one night when I was doing field work I swear I saw a group of great horneds on a tree, together. I continually believe they are essentially solitary, but I know you differ in this opinion. It is difficult for me to overlook that experience, especially considering the magnitude of what we are encountering here.
-I’ve discovered a few more interesting things about the group behavior of these birds that might be of help.
And that’s when Dr. Veggente launched into a crazy story that frightened me about what we were up against. It essentially went like this:
-We were down in Chiapas, studying a rare albino pygmy owl. We were interested in its habitat and feeding habits. One of the town’s people said that he saw one that was eating his cat. We never heard of an owl that small feeding on domesticated animals. So we were interested in finding out how it accomplished this behavior. We assumed that it might have something to do with group behavior. Well, when we got down there he was telling us elaborate tales of a great horned that was raiding his home. And he showed us the owl. He blew the owl’s head off with a shotgun. It lied there in his back yard. A headless corpse. He didn’t show us until sometime after dark when we arrived down there. That was our mistake. As we stood over the owl with flashlights, he talked about how it was ‘intelligent’ and had a special ‘ability.’ He told us that it could be in three places at once. He’d hear it hooting in the window and go after it and come back and it would be standing on the kitchen table. He was worried about retribution from God for killing it. As we started to examine it, we heard hooting throughout the sky and in the trees surrounding his homestead. They came so thick out of the trees, you would have thought it was a swarm of bats. There were scores of them in various formations. As they reached us, they used tactics that were militaristic, with the lagging owls dropping off and diving at us. I hit the ground, and looking up in the trees, saw great horneds standing on limbs like sentinels screeching, hooting. It was horrific. I crawled into his house, covering my head. The farmer had got in there ahead of me; he was bleeding from his face. We shut and locked the door, then closed the windows and looked around. My lab technician wasn’t so lucky. Out the window we watched as the owls pecked him apart piece by piece. It is twisted to say this, but we were all subconsciously relieved, because it was not us and we thought we had closed all the windows in time. This man who lived there wasn’t a rich man. He had an interest in nature, but that was about all he had. His place was one, two rooms at best, and an old yellow Formica kitchen table was the centerpiece of his place. When we turned around, an owl stood on the table - somehow we had missed the window on the front of the house. Or the owl had jarred it open. It stared back at us. Don’t look, I shouted, cover your eyes. But the owl wasn’t interested in putting us in any sort of trance. It just sounded one hoot. I believe it was a warning. An ominous threat. Then it turned, flapped its wings, knocked some spices off the counter and headed for my face. I took out a knife.
At this point, Dr. Veggente took a large switchblade out of his pocket.
-And I cut him in the throat. The owl fell on the mud floor in the kitchen, its blood mixing with the dirt like raspberry syrup. And at that point, the man beside me, who called us down there, stumbled and fell on the ground. Are you all right? I asked him. What happened? he asked feverishly. You didn’t see anything that happened? No, he said. He didn't know where he was and couldn't remember anything. And then I understood, he had duped us. He was the one that had convinced us to come down there to see the owls. He was working for the owls. It turned out that the last thing he remembered was from months before. Once I had killed the lead owl, he came back to reality. Everything he had done was at the beckoning of the owls. Even the blood on his face was self-inflicted to appear as if he had been hurt in the fight. It was stunning, and the first time we saw something like that. I left the next morning with the body of my most trusted technician, who was also enrolled as a student. There was an inquiry in Mexico City about my involvement in the death of a student, but I was able to escape guilt. I never heard from or talked to that man again.
-Are you saying that it is possible, that the owls have hypnotized one of us, said Donovan, looking suspiciously at Dr. Veggente.
-Yes, I am saying that precisely.
-Wow, owl hypnotism, said Prof. Klemm in a hushed voice. And group behavior of great horned owls, I never would have believed it Oliver! You were right this whole time. After the results of this come out, you will be back in favor with the establishment.
-Why, this is the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me! Tell me you’re really Lester and not Santa Claus dressed in a hideous disguise, said Dr. Veggente sarcastically as he picked up the trombone case.
-What’s in the case?
-Clothes.
Dr. Veggente walked out of the house like a tornado had just blown through. We all watched him leave. He left us a lot to think about with his story. If the owls were manipulating us, it certainly hasn’t showed, and I was more determined to talk to him about playing the trombone. After thinking about the owl landed on my roof when I was playing the trombone, I knew it wasn’t just clothes in the case, and that he had a trombone for a reason. I waited in the house for a little bit as Grandpa Joseph discussed some logistics with Capt. Terrell and Prof. Klemm. Then, when no one was paying attention to me, I skipped out the door to find Dr. Veggente.
The town was like a wasteland. Everyone had vanished. Nothing moved. Nothing rustled. There were no human voices. I looked up and down the streets but didn’t see anything. I felt like I was walking in one of those movies after they drop the nuclear bomb. Just searching for anyone anywhere. It was bizarre. Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you woke up the next day and everyone on the planet disappeared except for you? It was kind of like that. Then when I was walking down Main Street, though the stores and shops that were closed and empty, I saw Cedar at the end of the street, with her translucent skin and jet-black hair standing in the woods at the edge of town. She looked like she’d been watching me. So I ran down the street after her. I shouted her name. Then I saw her again behind a tree. She stood there waiting for me. She stared at her shoes and didn’t talk. She held the notebook under her arm. She had on her lavender elephant sweater, but my mind was so blown away with utter visceral emotion that it melted in my face.
-Cedar, what are you still doing here? It was the second time I’d ever spoken to her.
-We decided to stay.
-Does Capt. Terrell know about it?
I knew it was a mistake to say it as soon as I said it. I was afraid for her, and Capt. Terrell came to mind as a way to keep her safe, but Capt. Terrell was Sarah’s mom. Cedar felt this connection with me too, and I knew it, even without speaking, and it was insulting to bring up my girlfriend’s mom. Instead of assuming she wanted help, I should have treated the moment as it deserved to be treated – a serendipitous encounter behind the fear of the moment.
-Why? Are you going to tell her? she asked, finally looking up at me with those flaring eyes.
I had never seen anything like it. They were the most powerful eyes I’d ever seen. They exploded out of her face. It was almost as if they rotated in her head. You could barely look at them without being knocked backwards. My god I love those eyes. I knew then that she’d make me regret asking her, but that she’d forgive my mistake.
-No. No way, I said. I won’t say anything. What are you doing out here?
-Just seeing what’s going on.
-Did you see a guy in a crazy hat, with a purple shirt and orange pants go down here anywhere?
-Yes, she said demurely. She was suddenly coy again, turning on a dime.
-Where did he go?
-He walked through the woods here, she pointed down a path.
-Nice. Let’s go see if we can catch him.
-He was carrying a trombone case, said Cedar.
We ran down the paths through the woods quickly, fast. She was an incredible athlete, but she never went out for any of the sports teams. It was like I was chasing a wild animal. I felt like we were two deer running together around the trees. She darted through the woods expertly, her torso moving side to side to weave in an out of the tree trunks. I could tell she was running slower to let me catch up as she ran. Her hair waved behind her in the breeze in long tendrils reaching towards me.
We found a clearing where there was a farm, and she stopped. We crept ahead, with me slowly behind her heels. Then, out in the open, we saw Dr. Veggente about a quarter mile away on the other side of the field entering some more woods. He was still carrying the trombone case. He was headed due north. I knew that if I took a left from where we were standing that in a few miles I’d run right smack into our farm. As he slipped into the woods, Cedar took off. She sprinted as fast as she could through the field. I tried to outrun her, but she gained separation from me.
She arrived at the woods a good 10-15 strides before I did.
-You’re slow, she whispered, breathing deeply, smiling through her hair.
-I’ll beat you on the way back, I said, knowing there was no chance of that but trying to seem kind of tough, and wheezing like a water buffalo.
We turned north and walked slowly this time through the woods, Dr. Veggente was straight ahead of us. Cedar stopped for a second.
-You see that, she said.
-What? She was pointing to the trunk of a small tree. I couldn’t see what she was talking about. She got closer and cupped her hand on the trunk. A walking stick crawled onto her hand and she brought her hands closer to my face.
-Wow, that’s so cool.
Then it started raining.
-Coolest insect alive, she said excitedly, flashing her wild eyes at me, then setting it quickly back, not wanting to disrupt its natural purpose, before she took off in a sprint.
She slowed as we reached another field. And then I realized that Cedar lived somewhere around where we were standing.
-Don’t you live close to here? I asked.
-Shhh, she put her finger to her mouth. And pointed out into the clearing. It was Dr. Veggente. The sky was dark and it was noon. He stepped through a hay field scaring up pheasants and rabbits. He put his case down and studied something on the ground in the rain. He rubbed his large hand through his massive white beard.
Dr. Veggente’s orange pants were soaked at the ankles as he walked. The rain dropped off the leaves. It ran down the grass stems. Out of the pocket of his pants he opened an umbrella and stopped to repack his pipe and lit it again.
The smoke trailed behind him towards us. I can still smell that pipe smoke. Pipe smoke smells fantastic. Then we understood what he was looking at. Feathers spread through the grass in clumps like a pillow torn open. There was dried chocolate colored blood everywhere. And then Dr. Veggente suddenly picked up a decapitated spherical head of the most ghastly animal I’d ever seen. It looked like a beheaded ghost. Its eyes were the dull gray of the dead and not the usual stark yellow of an owl.
Dr. Veggente took a few more steps and found another owl in rigor mortis, it’s wings splayed apart. He picked that one up with his other hand. He had a decapitated head in one hand and this other freak bird in some sort of wicked Jesus pose. White feathers littered the grass everywhere I looked now as he stood in the center of the slaughter. Dr. Veggente moved along and found more and more of them. Like they were dumped there dead from the sky.
-Well, you two might as well come out and help me, he said, puffing on his pipe and still holding the birds.
Cedar and I looked at each other, astonished.
-I meant you guys, he finally said after pausing for a moment and then pointing at us through the trees.
We sheepishly walked towards him and felt kind of stupid. But I suppose this guy had been out in the bush down in Mexico he could probably tell when someone was coming after him. Maybe he had ears like an owl.
-What kind of birds are they? I asked him.
-Great Grey Owls he said smoking on his pipe.
-They are spooky looking, I said.
Dr. Veggente's teeth showed through his crooked smile as he held the pipe in place and nodded his head slowly.
-The thing is, they aren’t a hostile bird.
We stood there waiting for him to explain to us what he was talking about. Dozens of dead great grey owls lay destroyed in the rain. Their saucer faces were almost human, with expressions of mercy, or hope of it, perpetually, and too late. Their spooky white coats were soaked and resembled bed sheets on a line at night flitting in the rain. They lay in a circular fashion – all pierced with massive punctures through the neck that nearly ripped their bodies apart.
-I suppose you are wondering why there are so many dead ones around here.
We nodded our heads.
-Let’s just say that our large owl friends like to protect their territory. Here, he said, handing the head to me, help me carry this back to the house.
I wasn’t at all interested in carrying a great grey owl head.
-I’ll carry it, said Cedar.
-I’ll carry the other one, I said, once again trying to be tough.
-Sounds good, said Dr. Veggente shoving the bird towards me. He picked up the body of the bird with the severed head.
We walked back through the trees towards town. Cedar carried the head and I followed with the other one. It must have been a sight to see with our birds in our hands trudging through the rain with Dr. Veggente blowing away on he pipe of his. I noticed Cedar had her notebook in her back pocket.
-What's in your notebook? I asked Cedar suddenly without even thinking.
-What notebook?
-The one in your back pocket.
She blushed.
-Poems.
-Can I read one?
She hesitated, and then sheepishly handed the book back to me. I opened it up and read the first one. I’ll never forget what I read in there –
crawled along my pillow
and melted the residue
etched a river willow
that wilted
speckled ooze
mesh and billow
through my eyes
like a transient mask
as stars poured through the window
like plasma from a flask
I must have gasped. But she was embarrassed. I think she thought I was making fun of her, but I thought it was the most beautifully absurd thing I’d ever read. She snatched the book back, her face was red, but I think she saw in my eyes that I wasn’t making fun of her when she looked at me.
-How did you know the birds were going to be there? She asked Dr. Veggente to change the subject, and taking her eyes off me viciously.
-I didn’t. I guess I got lucky, he said.
-Well, how did you know what direction to walk?
-That was an educated guess.
-What do you mean?
-I saw great horneds flying this direction last night when we were driving into your town. I was with Lester and we stopped the car and watched the birds majestically cruise through the moon out to the North.
-Wow, I said. I was looking for them last night too. But they didn’t fly near enough to the farm. I heard the trombone being played after midnight. Was that you?
Dr. Veggente gave me a stare out of the corner of his eye. He then looked at Cedar and back to me.
-Yes.
-Why were you playing the trombone?
-I felt like practicing after we arrived in town.
I knew this was a lie. The sound of the trombone did not come from the direction of town but from near where we were walking at that moment. It was a mysterious thing to lie about to a couple of teenage kids, if you asked me. I suppose I knew he had his reasons at the time. Mainly, I trusted him, so I figured there was a good reason. But I wanted to see him play. I wanted to see why he played.
When we reached town, Cedar handed Dr. Veggente the severed head.
-I’m going to go home, she said.
Dr. Veggente nodded his head and walked into town, lighting his pipe. I stayed with Cedar for a minute. I didn’t want her to go, but had no idea how to keep her there.
-Listen, did you hear the trombone being played last night? I asked her.
-Yes.
-It definitely didn’t come from town. Do you know where it was coming from?
-I’m not sure. I think it was from towards your farm.
-I thought it was towards your house.
-Why do you think he’s out in the country playing it?
-I don’t know. But we gotta find out. Can I get your cell phone number?
We exchanged numbers.
-You know Cedar, if your family wants to stay at our farm it might be more safe. You’re definitely welcome to.
-Thanks, but I think we’ll be fine, She said, not rebuffing me, but looking sincerely thankful underneath the matted black hair in the rain. God she was beautiful. I hated knowing they lived so close to where Dr. Veggente saw the owls.
After we arrived back in town, Dr. Veggente put the dead great grey owls out in the yard of the O’Neil house. The one story ranch with black window trip had become the headquarters for the operation. Donovan was walking up the street to the house, tall and lean with a crew cut, lost in his thoughts until he saw us.
-What do you have there? He asked Dr. Veggente.
-A great grey owl – a territorial killing by the giant owls.
-Wow, said Donovan, running his hand along the full spooky corpse of the great grey - clearly impressed by the slash through the gullet of the owl.
-Yes, it is quite gruesome. These monsters are very territorial.
We walked inside and found Capt. Terrell and Prof. Klemm examining ornithology books together. Her face was close to Prof. Klemm’s face. Their cheeks nearly brushed each other. Her arm touched his shoulder as she leaned over him sitting in a chair. The top of his head was bent over. The book was in his lap. They jumped up, startled as we entered. Capt. Terrell stood up straight and stepped away from Prof. Klemm. She saw Donovan and her cheeks flushed. She was clearly embarrassed. Dr. Veggente smiled to himself knowingly. Donovan shook his head in dismay and was so flustered he had to go into the kitchen and get a drink of water. As he drank the glass, he watched Prof. Klemm with a distrustful glare like a politician who'd just been stabbed in the back by a trusted advisor.
-Lester, Dr. Veggente said, holding up the Great Grey head, I’ve found evidence of the large owl’s territorial behavior. He tossed the Great Grey down on the dining room table next to the pellet. It had become their lab bench.
-My god, what happened? asked Prof. Klemm.
-A whole slew of great greys were massacred where we saw the owls flying last night.
-To the point Oliver. I’m sure you have a theoretical suspicion.
-Great Greys are not indigenous to this area of the country. They are mostly in Canada. But about 10 years ago the Great Greys came down from Canada and invaded your State briefly. It is happening again. Although Great Horneds and Great Greys coexist, if the Great Greys invade a previous uninhabited area dominated by Great Horneds, the Great horned owls will drive them out. They won’t eat the other owls, but they will kill if their territory is invaded. And this is obvious evidence that these owls did not merely mean to drive them away. Instead it is mass slaughter. They completely wiped out the great grey population and dumped them conspicuously as a warning. It was a brief skirmish, and the giant owls dominated to the death.
-It simply means we need to take them all out. Same as before, there is no other solution, said Prof. Klemm. I noticed he was looking at Capt. Terrell, and nearly puffing his chest out, when he said it.
-No, we must not attack or they will attack us, I have never seen this level of territorial behavior. We need to find where they are nesting before we attack. Then we can know the way to approach this, said Dr. Veggente.
-You might have trouble convincing the National Guard. I don’t think an offensive is a terrible idea. You know as well as I do how difficult it is to find a nest. Why wait while more people die, or they expand into other populated areas. We don’t know how fast they breed and reproduce.
-Exactly Lester, we don’t know much. If we find the nest, we can figure out exactly what is happening, and we will be better prepared to protect ourselves, and more efficient with any type of offensive, thereby saving more lives in the long run.
Prof. Klemm shook his head. The jostling between them had begun again.
-Oliver, this is life or death. You’ve seen them in the air. They are massive. You know the power of these birds. We can’t sit and wait on this while you do your field research to gather evidence. Sometimes you just need to act with what little you know. We need to attack.
On the word ‘attack’ he swung his hand through the air for full effect. He was putting on a show for Capt. Terrell’s benefit.
-I think it is a terrible mistake.
-Well Oliver, I suppose it is not your call to make.
I walked out of the house down the sidewalk and saw Grandpa Joseph sitting outside in the lawn in a kitchen chair. He was smoking a cigarette with a washcloth on his shoulder and looking at the remains of a great grey in the lawn. The rain had stopped and the atmosphere was stark and bright. It was mid-afternoon but felt late. The brooding black of the deep forests outside of town contrasted with the bright grey of the clouds and sidewalks.
-I was just here, I said, where were you at?
-Out for a walk.
I sat down in the wet grass next to him. Then we heard a rumbling coming down the street. It felt a bit like an earthquake. Although I’ve never been in an earthquake so I can’t really speak to that. Actually, my friend Noah had a vibrating Lazy boy at their house for a while and it kind of felt like that. But it started off soft and then got more intense.
-What is that? I asked.
-Here come the men in uniform. Said Grandpa Joseph taking a drag off his cigarette.
After the rumbling reached a peak, they came around the corner and onto the street. There were a few trucks carrying troops and even a few tanks and all-terrain vehicles. Probably about 1000 troops seemed to be assigned to the mission. The tanks rolled across the street and pulled up into the lawns, tearing apart the grass and dirt. The ATVs with machine gun mounts halted with a squeak and a bounce. The troops all bounded out the back of the trucks and went to work like camouflaged bees. Then a jeep came up behind the entire army and pulled up next to us. I looked at Grandpa Joseph. He didn’t even flinch. The guy in the jeep was older and clean-shaven.
I have to say, I’d never seen anything more surreal than the military driving in through Lake Bawshkinaway. The sight of all the guys wearing the same bleak camouflage clothes and the commanding officer pulling up next to us with that plastic look on his face like he was the man of the hour. It was just plain crazy. The troops ran past us going every which way talking and yelping but I wasn’t sure they knew where they were going or if they were trying to look busy or what. They began setting up guns at the orders of other guys in charge in various spots on the street. They started digging through the yards. Some of them bashed in doors of a few houses. The force the great horneds used on the great greys had nothing on the force I witnessed when these guys rolled into town. The whole time it was going on Grandpa Joseph didn’t move from his spot.
The important guy in the jeep bounced out and strutted straight up to us. I definitely remember that.
-My god! He exclaimed.
He paused and stood over the owl, walking back and forth and staring at its magnificent size. He slid his hands along the feathers feeling the soft downy front of the pleated owl chest. Then he pinched the large toes. It was astounding how big the feet were. The important man’s face was grim but his eyes betrayed that he was in awe.
-I thought this town was to be evacuated, he said. He meant business. No chitchat or anything like that, just forcing that sentence out a little louder than I thought was necessary.
-Well, I’m the mayor, said Grandpa Joseph, so I’m here at your service.
-Okay, he said, and who is the kid, he pointed a big fat finger at me with a massive ring on it.
-This is my grandson. He is with me.
-All right. The man looked around as if uncertain what to do next.
-I’m Joseph Edgewood, said Grandpa Joseph standing up and making it easier for him.
-Nice to meet you Mr. Edgewood. I’m General Gerard Greer. Said the General, shaking his hand. You mind if I have one of those cigarettes.
Grandpa Joseph handed him a cigarette. I remember it struck me funny that a guy who was a general would need to bum a cigarette off Grandpa Joseph. Grandpa Joseph lit it for him.
-So where are these scientists that I need to talk to?
Grandpa Joseph showed him into the house. Donovan and Capt. Terrell were sitting at the kitchen table in the corner of the room playing cards listening to music with Dr. Veggente smoking his pipe lost in thought. Prof. Klemm was enthralled with the great grey owls, performing dissections and analyzing the tissue.
We followed General Greer into the house.
-Hello fellas, he said, General Greer of the Wisconsin National Guard at your service.
-Hello, I’m Capt. Terrell, she stepped forward in her police uniform strutting up to General Greer. He was clearly smitten. She really was beautiful, but I think I mentioned that already. She knocked him dead anyway.
-Hello miss, he said, almost stammering over his words before gathering himself. Which one of you guys is Prof. Klemm from down in Madison.
-That would be me. Prof. Klemm stopped the dissection and took off his plastic gloves reaching out to shake his hand.
-What kind of situation do we have?
I remember wondering how in the hell Prof. Klemm was going to describe this situation to a guy like General Greer.
-Very very large owls. Was all he said.
-From the briefing it seems like you got quite a situation on your hands. So large owls? Repeated General Greer.
-Yes.
-I saw one of them outside. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?
-Yes, Prof. Klemm pulled the plastic off a dead owl lying on the table, we are talking owls that are about 10-15 feet long.
-Yep, said the General matter-of-factly looking at the gigantic owl.
-Killing them is going to be extremely complicated. These owls are coordinating with each other and think we are a threat to their territory. Not to mention the fact that they can hear us coming from miles away. Their hearing is much more acute than a humans or even a dog. For instance, we heard you coming for the last 15 minutes. And they move by stealth. Owls have serrated feathers on the edge of their wings and you can’t hear them until they are right on top of you. They are extremely deft at flight and the claws on an owl this size could easily crush an elephant. But hopefully the force of your military might will be enough to combat them.
The General took off his hat exposing his military haircut and sat down in one of the chairs exhausted. The way he crumpled into the chair indicated that his heart was a little softer than his exterior, and exposed a little pot belly he could hide while standing. His hair was completely gray. Not as white as Dr. Veggente's, but more the color of stone.
-Okay. How many are there?
-No way of telling.
-What do you mean, no way of telling?
-We’ve heard about cattle being taken from farms all over the area. But we’re not sure how many cows were taken total. There could be a dozen; there could be a hundred.
-Sir, said Capt Terrell stepping in, may I say that the whole town has been evacuated and is at your disposal. Use anything you think is necessary to get rid of them.
General Greer nodded.
-Well, we brought in some of the tanks. They were going to discontinue them right before Sept. 11 happened, but after that we got to keep them, he said a wry smile coming over his face. However, I’m not sure it’s the best piece of equipment to combat this type of enemy. He rubbed his chin with his hand. And I read in the briefing that these animals are nocturnal.
-Yes.
-Good, we are all set up with night vision equipment. Well, I suppose we’ll set up shop and see what tonight brings then.
-Sir, may I suggest an offensive.
-An offensive? General Greer grimaced.
-Yes, we know that the owls come from the north of town. If we take those tanks North tonight we might scare up some of the owls and then you can know where their nest is, and fire off a few rounds to blow it up.
-Today we are going to get set up. Tomorrow we will concern ourselves with a possible, ‘offensive’ said General Greer, with his palms down, indicating for everyone to remain calm. Until that happens, let me know anything else your research reveals about these owls.
General Greer didn’t seem to enjoy Prof. Klemm’s suggestion. He turned and walked right out of the room. Dr. Veggente was silent during the conversation and everyone looked to him after General Greer left the room.
-A little help here Oliver? Said Prof. Klemm with his hands out in the air.
-It’s your show.
-You don’t believe in an offensive.
-Sounds like it won’t happen tonight anyway. Gives me time to conduct some of that field research.
-I figured you might be happy with that, said Prof. Klemm, smiling despite himself.
-Well, we oughta get back for supper, said Grandpa Joseph. We said our goodbyes and walked out of the house. As we jumped in the truck I thought about how I needed to find out what Dr. Veggente was going to do that night. I had to go out and see what the trombone was for. Looking back, I suppose I didn’t really realize how stupid it was to want to go out there at night. In the truck bed a couple massive feathers were lying there. They moved from side to side in the breeze. One of them caught the wind and lifted out of the truck and landed in the ditch. It was like a massive novelty kite broke from its string. The troops were still hard at work setting up the headquarters. It was us vs. the owls now. I had a feeling that the owls had the upper hand.
That night after dinner I sat up in the crow’s nest and watched for owls again. The rain had lifted and the stars were out. The moon moved across the sky like a large balloon. It was peaceful and immaculate. I waited for any sound. I especially waited to hear Dr. Veggente’s trombone. Then I heard it again after midnight. The whine of the trombone played notes back and forth, sliding between A and G. The salubrious sound coated my ears. My stomach dropped when I heard it. I was determined to go see where it was.
I remember I was in my pajamas just sitting there in the crow’s nest with a constellation map so I could see the different signs in the sky. Taurus was up now too and that was my constellation. I loved to draw the line from the arrow in Orion to the bull’s head of Taurus. I also liked to tell which why was north. Once when we were in the Twin Cities, I looked up and couldn’t tell where the little dipper was because of the light pollution. Even using the trick where you draw a line with the edge of the spoon of the big dipper it was difficult to tell. The North Star is the end of the handle of the little dipper and if you draw a line with the end of the big dipper it brings you to the North Star, which is always due north. Then you can make out the little dipper because you follow the handle to the spoon part of it. It’s hard to wrap your mind around it at first because the little dipper is inverse the big dipper and fainter in the sky.
That clear night it was easy to determine that the sound came from the east, just like the night before. I walked down the spiral staircase to my bedroom and changed out of pajamas into some clothes. I figured black clothes were the way to go. I draped myself head to toe in black sweatshirts, a pair of black pants that I bought once to go to a formal dance, and a black stocking hat. Grandpa Joseph wouldn’t be happy with me if he knew what I was doing, but I had to find out what the significance was of the trombone. I’m not even happy with myself now as I write about it. Honestly, what was I thinking after what had just happened?
I jumped in the truck, closing the door as silently as possible so that Grandpa Joseph couldn’t hear me. I slid it into neutral and took off the break, gliding backwards down the lane. Our house was on a little rise of a hill, but it was plain scary driving that truck backwards in the dark. Especially with gigantic owls on your mind. I knew the lane like the back of my hand and could pretty much see it like daylight when I backed out. But it definitely was frightening as hell. When I got out into the road, I turned the truck on, shifted into 1st and drove towards town.
When I neared town I came to a roadblock. The signs claimed the road was out because it was under construction. I knew it was probably put up by the military because there was no construction going on in town that I knew of. But I figured it probably wasn’t a good idea to go into town anyway, I really didn’t need General Greer asking me questions. I drove onto a dirt road that headed Northwest of town towards where Cedar lived. As I neared the area where we discovered the great greys, I cut the engine and coasted. The trombone was very close to me there. I could still hear him playing. I left the truck in the middle of the road and stepped out in my black commando outfit, walking slowly towards the sound. I had to veer off into a hayfield as I followed it. As I came closer, I heard a whisper.
-Buffalo! Get out of here!
It was Cedar. The clouds had lifted and she was standing in the moonlight and waving me to get back. I stood still, like a deer in headlights when I finally recognized what was in front of me. Dr. Veggente stood in the middle of the hayfield and played the trombone somberly. The instrument glinted in the moonlight. In a large bur oak tree about 40 yards in front of him a large owl sat on a limb. It resembled some sort of matryoshka doll in the tree. It’s body obscenely massive compared to the tree. Like seeing an owl sitting on a bonsai tree or something. It was wild. The owl appeared to be in some sort of trance. Dr. Veggente played on. I couldn’t stop watching. I just stood there mesmerized by the whole thing.
-Buffalo, said Cedar again, louder this time. Go home!
I ran over to her, we grabbed each other’s hands.
-What is going on?! I whispered as loud as I could. She looked up as I said that. I became aware that a shadow had been cast briefly over us. The moon was blocked by something and it wasn’t a cloud. I looked up and saw the massive creature gliding in the sky with its wings spread wide.
-You need to get out of here, she said, her eyes as big as dinner plates.
-You do too Cedar!
Dr. Veggente had heard us at this point and turned to look at what was happening. He stopped playing just as the other owl landed on the tree next to his friend. The tree cracked and bended when the owl landed. It was barren of leaves. The owl loomed above the meadow on the bare limbs. But he didn’t rest more than a second before he flew up in the air again. I knew then that I needed to get out of there.
-What are you two doing here? Said Dr. Veggente.
I looked at Cedar and grabbed her hand again. As my Grandpa Joseph always used to say, if you get caught in a pickle, try not to be part of a sandwich. We took off towards my truck as fast as we could go. I looked back for an instant and saw the owl about 50 yards away from us swooping down with his claws out. My eyes must have popped out of my head. If anyone’s eyes can pop out of their head, mine definitely did at that moment. I shouldn’t have complained earlier about being frightened backing out of the lane of our farm. Because I forgot just how incredibly scared I was at that moment of owl terror. I felt the rush of adrenaline through my veins. If you have never had that feeling of superhero strength induced by utter uncontrollable fear, trust me, you’ll know when you do. I almost flew to the truck like an owl myself. I think Cedar was keeping up with me this time. I released Cedar’s hand as we reached the truck and yelled ‘Get in’. Then lurched into the drivers side and launched myself onto the seat. Cedar tried the passenger door but it was locked. I quickly reached over and unlocked it. She jumped in as the owl swooped past the passenger door. I threw it in 1st and smashed the gas pedal down as far as I could. I saw the owl scramble to its feet in the rearview mirror, then spread its wings. Its wings would have spanned 3 roads. Then it lifted off after us. The truck didn’t have a very quick 0-60 and the owl closed in quickly as I shifted frantically. I was going about 100 mph and it seemed to keep pace without trouble, gliding serenely behind us. After a mile or two it darted off to the east. The quickness with which it adjusted its flight reminded me of seeing one of those videos of F-16s in aerial maneuvers.
It coasted off over the hill as quick as it changed direction. The truck barreled down that dirt road hitting every bump and pothole in the way. It was a harrowing drive. After awhile I reached the main road. We were well north of town now and I had to backtrack south and west to get to the farm.
Cedar and I were silent for a long time as I drove back to the farm. I mean, what do you say after that? I looked over at her a couple times and she sort of just stared out the front window. I noticed she had taken her poetry book out of her pocket and put it on her lap. She seemed to be studying the trees and the moon. Her brain definitely moved at a more comfortable pace than mine did. My brain seemed to be like one of those old 1920s cars without oil in the engine. Just sputtering and popping. But hers was a beautiful sight.
When we reached the farm, Grandpa Joseph was outside smoking a cigarette.
-Have a good joyride?
-Yeah, I said.
-Looks like she wasn’t interested in sticking around, he said pointing down the lane into the darkness.
Cedar sprinted like an antelope down the lane and over the road into the ditch and over the fence out into the neighboring field.
Grandpa Joseph as he stubbed out his cigarette and went inside.
I lingered behind, watching out into the field, hoping to see her, but not really expecting too. My heart was pounding when I realized that she might stay at our house when I pulled up the lane. I wanted to find out more about her. I wanted to know if ‘soothing orange shoals are burning my mind on ancient coals’ was something she actually chanted in school like everyone claimed. And of course, I wanted to show her my national geographic magazines. The exotic fish I liked to look at on the Internet. My money from all over the world. I wanted to show her my pictures on the wall of all the wild places I wanted to visit. I stood out there in the lane with gigantic owls circling the town. It was an idiotic thing to do when I thought about it. I was a sitting duck. But then I saw her out in the field; the moonlight hit that part of the field just right. She was standing there with the poetry book at her side, and then she waved and turned and ran in through the trees. I waved back but I don’t think she saw it.
I crashed that night and didn’t wake up until noon the next day. I had wild dreams all night but I could only remember bits and pieces. One particular dream stood out though. I remember I was in a city, somewhere in Europe with old buildings and cobblestone streets. I was standing on an ancient roman bridge looking over a river. No one was on the bridge. No cars were to be seen anywhere. No windows were open in any building. All the shutters were closed. The city was completely deserted. There wasn’t a sign of anyone anywhere. Not even a piece of laundry hanging out a window. I could see my face in the water, it was so still, like a puddle. It wasn’t moving at all. Then off in the distance over my shoulder I saw a large bird flying with methodical wing flaps towards me. The bird was sleek and gray and as it neared me it didn’t seem to have any eyes. It was smooth, almost like it had hair instead of feathers. Like a live stuffed animal. Some sort of athletic Muppet. Its wings seemed to flap with every beat of my heart. When it neared I knew I couldn’t let it touch me. I ran off the bridge and careened down a narrow street lined with ancient buildings. It was completely in shadow. The town was so deserted there wasn’t even a mark or scuff or even a small piece of trash like a napkin on the streets. All the streets were completely clean. I saw a tunnel below a bridge as a possible escape. But when I looked behind me for the bird, then looked back to find the tunnel, I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it. I went to make a left and go down another street. The bird had turned the corner back by the bridge and was following me. I took off up a slight hill. All the streets were made of cobblestones. I kept taking rights and lefts hoping to lose the bird. Finally, thinking I’d lost it, I stopped at a corner in an alley, breathing heavy but not sweating. The air was stale; there was no wind. But it wasn’t cold or hot. It was almost temperatureless. And then the bird came around the corner closer towards me. It moved at a constant pace, it never seemed to tire. It’s wings still flapping in time with my heartbeats. I ran off again, trying to outrun it, feeling feeble this time, knowing that even if I ran away from the city, the bird would still be there, behind me, stalking me at that indefatigable pace. I could outrun it for a while, but I’d have to rest eventually, and then it would be there. The faster I ran the more tired I got. I had no idea what would happen to me if it touched me, I just knew that I didn’t want it to happen, and shuddered to think about it. Then I found myself by the bridge again, out in the open, and I looked around and didn’t see the bird, and I relaxed and then looked up and it was there. In that instant of my mind relaxing, it touched me, grotesquely, it felt like I had contracted a disease. I screamed as I woke up.
