So I was riding in this bus down Asylum
Avenue towards the suburbs, right, and we were near the corner of
Elizabeth and Asylum when a pack of starlings showed up and started
flying in circles around the bus.
Now
normally I don’t mind starlings so much. I think they get a more of
a bad rap for kicking out bluebirds than they deserve. Yeah they poop
and all, and they’re kind of loud, and they were loud this time,
but really, they’re birds. I don’t give a damn about birds unless
they’re eating my corn.
Everyone
else on the bus was more than a little frustrated, though, especially
the bus driver. Sure and I don’t blame her. She’s driving. Kind
of hard to notice that the light has turned green when you’ve got
starlings all up in your windshield. She shoved the bus forward
through the mob though.
“This
is absolutely intolerable,” said a short woman with poofy hair in
front of me.
“They’re
going to rain poop on my briefcase when I step outside,” said a fat
woman with a three-piece suit next to me.
“I
blame myself,” said a curiously low and hoarse voice behind me.
I
turned around. It was a crow.
“What
on earth is a crow doing on a city bus?” I said.
“Same
as you, jackass. I’m riding.”
“But
– ”
“I
paid my fare,” said the crow. “Dollar seventy five. I belong on
this bus like anyone else.”
“As
long as you don’t steal any of my gold rings,” said the woman in
the three-piece suit, “I have no trouble with your presence on this
bus. Yet tell me, crow, why does a crow bother to ride a city bus?”
“I
have a name, you know.”
“My
apologies,” said the woman in the three-piece suit, “but you have
not deigned to tell me your name. I am Cuthberta Morrigan. And you
are?”
“Hang
on,” said the Crow, “I should like to know the name of your
seatmate as well.”
“Ermin
K Murgatroyd,” said I.
“Is
that a real human name?” said the crow.
“It
is now. Now, what about -- ”
“And
what about the woman sitting in front of you?”
The
woman with the poofy hair turned around. “Do I look like I give my
name out to complete strangers?”
“Well,”
said the crow, “Ermin K Murgatroyd here doesn’t mind giving me a
silly fake name, so I don’t mind hearing one from you.”
“Do
I look like I want to talk to a damn bird? We’ve still got these
starlings bumping into the bus. They’re not letting up.” And it
was true. The starlings had not abated their siege.
“Unless
you’ve got a nice knitting pattern there,” said the crow, “I
don’t think you have much better to do.”
“I
think you have better things to do than ride a bus,” said the short
woman with the poofy hair. “You’re supposed to be running around
stealing water from the gods or something, like a proper crow.”
“Maybe
if you give me a name I’ll tell you how many times I’ve stolen
water from the gods,” said the crow.
“Alright,
alright. My name is...Barb Dwyer. Alright, now how many times have
you stolen water from the gods?”
“Not
once.”
“Tricked!”
said Barb. “Tricked by a crow! Oh, I should have known it would
happen!”
“You
kinda walked right into that one,” I said.
The
sound of the starlings was getting louder.
“But
you have not yet told us your name,” said Cuthberta. “I should
love to know it, in case I need to look you up in the phone book
later and invite you to luncheon.”
“Nobody
invites crows to luncheon,” said the crow, “we just show up.
Fine. You want me to tell you my name? First I want to hear the name
of everyone on this bus.”
The
people around me grumbled in confusion. Someone with a sandwich said,
“Are you serious?”
“ Make
something up if you don’t want to tell me your real name. Go on.
Don’t be shy. You there with the brown paper bag and the tall
shoes. Who are you?”
“Cornelius
K Jones.”
“And
you there with the sandwich. Can I have some? Oh, and who are you?”
“Earl
S. Andwich. And no.”
“And
you there in the bus driver’s seat. What about you?”
“Shandra
Rhymes.”
The
crow continued in this manner until the entire bus full of people had
been convinced to give either their name or their pseudoname. All
while the chatter of starlings continued outside.
“Now,”
said the crow to the bus, “My name is Hwarrrrrrrrk.”
“Could
you translate that, please?” I said.
“No,”
said the crow, “But tell you what, call me Blanche.”
I
snorted.
“And
I would like to tell you all a story,” said the Crow.
“Oh,
here we go,” said Barb.
“It
is a story of your beloved city,” said the crow.
“Beloved
my ass,” I said. “I just live here.”
“Fine,”
said Blanche the Crow, “It is a story of the birds of your city.
Now, long ago by the count of my people, the humans brought another
plague to this land, and called them Starlings.”
“Oh
God,” said Barb, “She’s going to give us a tale of ethnic
pride. Cover your ears.”
“The
humans called them starlings,” said Blanche the Crow, “for the
markings on their back. We crows also call them starlings, because
they seem as numerous in the evening sky as the stars. Flying hither
and thither in their great, incredibly-well-coordinated flocks. You
can’t mob one without being mobbed instantly by five thousand.
Anyway. Humans brought them here, and they spread over all the land,
pushing out bluebirds – ”
“I
didn’t think crows would give a damn about that,” I muttered to
Barb.
“It’s
a tale of ethnic pride,” muttered Barb. “You have to make the
other side look bad to make your side look good.”
“ – and pooping over everything. Well, we crows have never
minded, for there has long been plenty of space in the world for both
of us, and where Starlings want seeds, crows will take what we can
get.”
“Including
gold rings,” said Cuthberta. “I have never forgiven your kind
completely for what you stole from me.”
Blanche
hopped onto Cuthberta’s shoulder and coughed up a gold ring into
her lap. “Yeah,” said Blanche, “Sorry about that. Anyway,
there’s about ten thousand of us crows in Hartford, and who knows
how many Starlings, I could never count, who would bother, right? One
looks like the other. We used to get along. Now, I don’t have a
clue what happened to sour that relationship – ”
“Sure
she doesn’t,” muttered Barb.
“
– But lately the starlings have all seemed to decide that Hartford
doesn’t belong to crows anymore. So they’ve been mobbing us when
they can find us. Now, I wouldn’t call that unusual, but when ten
thousand starlings mob five crows you have to wonder what’s going
on here. When a vast fleet of starlings goes all the way to the
landfill to attack crows you have to ask what’s going on there. I
don’t know. I can’t hardly ask one of them before they go after
me.”
The
sound of the starlings was getting louder.
“Which
is why I chose to take this bus,” said the crow, “because I
figured the starlings wouldn’t see me. Maybe I shouldn’t have
stopped long enough to pay the fare. My apologies to you all for
putting you in this situation. I am trying to think of how to
extricate myself from it now.”
“It
is a shame and a disgrace,” said Cuthberta, “That starlings
should choose to exhibit this behavior, and upset the order of the
city. I wondered myself why I saw so many starlings going after a
single crow. Are there any crows left in Hartford?”
“Plenty,”
said Blanche. “We’ve gotten pretty good at the disguises lately.
The fellow you might have seen the other day wearing the tall top hat
and the rumpled black coat, that was a few dozen of my friends. And
we travel as a single flock, for the most part. I was stupid enough
to think I could go out on my own.”
“You
just wanted to doff the stifling disguise and be yourself,” I said,
“Is that it?”
“No,
I just wanted to get away from my mother for a while. Now, how are we
going to get ourselves out of this mess?”
“Hang
on a second,” said Barb, “you crows must have done SOMETHING to
cause this mess.”
“Enough
to cause starlings to go five miles out of their way to attack us at
a place they don’t even care about? Well, I haven’t heard of it,
but maybe a Starling has. Maybe you can ask one of them, and maybe
they’ll be willing to tell you. I don’t know. How are we supposed
to get out of this?”
The
sound of starlings was growing louder, making conversation in the bus
more difficult.
“How
do I know this isn’t just another trick?” said Barb.
“I
haven’t lied to you once in this conversation and I’m not about
to start now,” said Blanche. “I’m just trying to apologize for
the way my intrusion has caused a disturbance.”
“Not
your fault,” I said. “The fault of the starlings. How DO we get
out of this? Hm. Hm. If you put on a disguise, the starlings still
know you’re in here.”
I
looked out the windshield, which was populated entirely by starlings.
I
looked out the windows to left and right, which were filled with
starlings.
“I
have an idea,” I said, “and it may be a nasty idea, and it may
cause even more trouble for us humans, but then, the starlings have
got us involved already. So. Shandra, would you be so kind as to open
your driver’s window?”
“Excuse
me?” said Shandra.
“Are
you absolutely mad?” said Cuthberta.
“It
sounds like you’re trying to give me up to the mob,” said
Blanche.
“No,
no,” I said, “just open the window a smidge and let a couple of
the starlings force their way in, and then we’ll grab them. It will
be fine.”
“Uh…”
“Trust
me,” I said.
Shandra
gave me a long, hard look, then sighed and went to the window. She
opened it a smidge.
Immediately
a mass of starlings began forcing their way in. Shandra recoiled and
the window opened wider. Cuthberta and Barb and Cornelius rushed to
the window and forced it closed against the mob.
There
were now maybe ten or eleven birds in the bus. Blanche had
disappeared, perhaps under one of the seats. Good thing, too, because
ten or eleven starlings in a city bus is way too many. “Grab them!”
I yelled to the bus passengers, but it took a while for people to get
over their shock and actually get a hold of the birds.
By
the time things had relatively settled down, there were ten people
with a bird in their hands and fifty people who’d got bird poop on
them. Earl S. Andwich was no longer eating his sandwich, for it had
been dropped in the confusion, stepped on, then pooped on. Roberta’s
hair had a feather stuck in it. Cutherberta was missing a gold ring.
The
starlings outside the bus had retreated all of a sudden, leaving us
sitting in the middle of an intersection. Shandra shook her head and
started up the bus.
The
starlings INSIDE the bus were chattering to beat the band. Over the
noise I said to Blanche, hiding in my backpack, “Can you
translate?”
“Let’s
see…Oh! They’re saying that the crows are responsible for the
death of the Ten Thousand.”
“WHAT
ten thousand?”
“Ten
thousand starlings were found dead all of a sudden. They’re saying
that kicking out ten thousand crows from Hartford is fair
recompense.”
“I
don’t remember ten thousand dead starlings at all,” I said. “Do
you, Cuthberta?”
“No,
I remember a hundred dead starlings,” said Cuthberta. “And that
was because the mayor decided he wanted to try to get rid of the
starlings, so he set out poisoned seed.”
“Alright,”
I said to the bus, “So that’s the trouble. Humans started the
whole mess and then the starlings told the story again and again
until it became a big lie meant to hurt the sort of peple they hate most anyway.” I looked a starling dead in the eye. It
was still chattering. “Now, do you remember exactly what we humans
did to the Passenger Pigeons?”
The
starlings went quiet.
“That’s
right. Now, If you’re going to have a war between you and other
birds, don’t be so almighty stupid as to interfere with human
affairs. And I declare my friendship with Blanche to be a human
affair. You get it? If this whole mess doesn’t stop right now I’m
bringing out the shotgun.”
A
starling peeped.
“Was
that a “yes mistress?”
Peep.
“The
starlings say they don’t believe you about the ten thousand,”
said Blanche, “but that they will attempt to limit their
interference in human affairs.”
“You
did NOT get that much information from two peeps,” I said. “What
did they actually say?”
“They
said ‘fine whatever’. I’m just extrapolating.”
“I’ve
had quite enough of this bus,” said Barb, and pulled the cord to
request a stop.
“As
have I,” said Cuthberta.
“I’m
hungry,” said Earl S. Andwich. “Thanks a lot.”
“There’s
poop all over my hat,” said Cornelius.
“Everyone’s
getting off at the next stop anyway,” said Shandra. “This bus is
a mess.”
The
stained, heavily-scratched bus came to a stop, and out poured a
hundred weary, shivering commuters. Including one with a crow perched
on her shoulder, and ten holding starlings. They let the starlings
go, and the little birds flew up and away towards some distant trees.
“Why
did you want to know everyrone’s names on the bus?” I said to
Blanche.
“It’s
a lark,” said Blanche.
“I
thought it was a crow.”
“It’s
a thing I like to think crows do,” said Blanche. “Help people
while being annoying. How many names did you learn today that you
didn’t know? Did you get anyone’s number?”
“I
got Cuthberta’s number. And Barb’s.”
“Well,
that’s something. You got yourself into a bit of a mess, though,
you know. Making a threat like that. Now you have to carry it out. Do
you even have a shotgun?”
“No.”
“I
suppose I could get one for you. But even if you force a truce,
you’re not going to stop the resentment. On either side. It will
just linger until you’re gone.”
“Until
who’s gone? Me?”
“All
of your kind. Mine will still be here, though. And theirs.”
In
the distance, the trees rustled, and twenty thousand starlings rose
into the air. As one, they turned and flew south and away.