Ruby's Crow

Ruby Thomas stood at the edge of her back porch, content while watching the sun ascend from the mountains behind her blooming garden; it had been a long while since she had enjoyed a peaceful sunrise. A light breeze carried the smell of lilacs from beyond the hill leading to a meadow behind her small house deep in the woods. Reminiscing the day she happened to stumble upon this beautiful land, she sat under a woven basket, leaning against a thick beam, swinging her feet above the ground where dandelions danced. She knew from the single calendar she had, that she had only called this place home for about seven and a half lonely years. Lonely wasn’t quite the right word, she had made friends from visitors of course. Especially one of a crow.

When she arrived at this mystical place in early spring, she had been running from a world of destruction, greed, and hate; nothing good had come from chemical warfare. The air had grown thick within the last five or so years with whatever the governments were putting in the air. The trees of the world grew droopy, and unhealthy looking, cancer bumps were just about covering all of them. Everything was normal according to the television. More and more people are getting sick, and meeting their fate, but people get sick, and people die sometimes, nothing out of the ordinary. When animals were being found dead, with no cause of death, was when people started to worry a little. Birds would drop from the sky, flocks at a time, for no apparent reason, but maybe the flock had a disease or had shared one last deadly meal, who knows? The media says it’s normal, everybody takes a sigh. Ruby didn’t sigh, she seized her opportunity and quit her job.

The next day, she fled to the sacred woods nobody dared enter, she ventured deep, bound to start a new life, or to die trying. Following the sunset for six days on foot, eating dandelions, huckleberries, blackberries, and other identifiable plants, she reached a meadow surrounded by lilacs and wildflowers in full bloom. One of the most serene things she had ever felt, or seen. Wandering around the meadow, her eyes caught a glimpse of a lavender colored house. She approached it quietly, tip-toeing on the white, wraparound porch as if not to leave dirt stains from her bare feet. Knocking a few times, but receiving no answer, she entered.

The house was completely furnished with hardwood floors, it had one room, a bathroom, and a small common area. The common area had a small white, floral loveseat; across from it were two recliners to match. Between the chairs was a small, round lavender table with a glass top covering a deep purple piece of crochet flower art; one of the most intricate pieces she had ever seen. The table had a small drawer, in which there laid a notebook no bigger than Ruby’s whole hand, and a red, ballpoint pen. When she opened it she found it had never been used. Flipping through the blank pages, she reached the back inside cover to find two initials that had been written on the bottom right corner in red ink; “R.T.” Those initials were the only clue she had found in the entire house to anyone that could possibly be the owner.

There were intricate frames along the walls ranging in all sizes, but not a single frame had a picture, or art. Each frame was blank, and white; it unsettled her. Nonetheless, after almost two week of walking barefoot through the woods, sleeping in trees along the way, she was thankful for somewhere secure to rest. There were no canned goods in the small pantry, the cupboards and drawers were almost bare. The cabinets were filled with dishware that looked like it had never been used, and empty glass mason jars with tin lids, not a lick of dust anywhere to be found. The house had running water that came from a well just out the back door. There was no fridge or oven in the kitchenette. There was, however, a small wood stove with a chimney pipe leading to the ceiling; beside it lay seven small pieces of firewood.

One night on the small sofa turned into three, three nights turned into a week, a week turned into a month, and a month turned into months; she didn’t dare sleep on the bed in the room in fear the owner would return and be displeased. What scratched her brain more was the fact the house had electricity, all the ceiling lights worked with a pull string, but there were no lamps anywhere, nor were there any outlets she could find. The lights never flickered or dimmed, the common room light was just bright enough to shed light in every room; it was her favorite.

Over almost eight months of exploring the corners of the house and the area around it, she had discovered a shed that held gardening tools, bags labeled with gardening seeds of all types, a small axe and enough firewood to last through winter. She was very thankful for the firewood, that winter proved to be cold, and hard. Firewood wasn’t scarce, she had gathered more before winter hit to be prepared. She survived from snared snow hares, and a couple beavers until spring. In the winter, she cooked above the woodstove in the kitchenette. From spring to fall, she cooked over a fire pit she had made from stones she found in or beside the creek. One thin, flat stone over the top served perfect for a cooktop.

When spring came, she planted every last seed around the backside of the house. The creek she snared the beavers in was what she had used to water her growing area, at first it was a long walk back and forth with the two pails she had, until she followed it up a little ways. The further she got, she found that it forked several times to different areas. A few days of work and she had forked running water through the growing area. A few weeks of patience and she had a thriving garden. When the time came, she stored as much fruit and vegetables as possible with the mason jars she had. Extra corn, tomatoes, peppers, squashes, onions, berries, melons, etc., went to the critters of the forest who were brave enough to come around. Deer, rabbits, and birds were most of Ruby’s company during the warm months.

Throughout the seasons, Ruby had the pleasure of seeing the babes of the forest grow as they came to pick through her garden, or for what she had left around the house. After a while, the deer would come and eat tomatoes out of her hand; she had pet them only a few times, which was fine by her, she could adore from a distance.

A single crow that would come by just after sunrise, and just before dusk, she fed the bird when it came, and watched it. Sometimes it would venture close, watching her as well. After the first time she spoke to the crow, it had started bringing back little gifts in the afternoon; mostly pieces of shiny trash, fragments of newspaper, and once, a Barbie’s ball gown. Ruby began collecting these gifts, in return for conversation; it had been nice sharing things with this crow, she felt they shared a connection. She told stories of her years of youth, about how the world was once clean, and that the trees all stood with purpose. Occasionally the bird would crow, when she would pause, pondering for too long. Ruby would get lost in her thoughts often while speaking with the bird, it would stay for hours some mornings. She shared laughs with it, and even cried sometimes; how she yearned for the better times of the past.

Over the years, the crow brought her more valuable items such as coins, broken pieces of jewelry, half a tube of superglue, a small magnifying glass, pieces of wire, a case of razor blades, and keys of different shapes. Ruby placed each of these gifts in the blank frames on the walls, glueing them down one by one. The house became more of a home as time went on, and she had made a close friend with the crow.

The last time it had come was a sunset to remember, it was like fire across the sky, with bright orange and red wispy clouds hovering over the mountains. Ruby was sitting on her front steps as she shared the story of how she stumbled upon her home, and the crow hopped to her feet, dropping a heart shaped locket at her toes. As she examined the fine locket, and the crow, it tilted its head and looked at the locket as well, then back at the small woman. She picked it up, feeling its surprising weight, and examined it. None of it was broken, the chain was in perfect condition, and the bright red ruby on the front wasn’t at all scathed. She opened it to find two silhouettes of what seemed to be children, a boy and a girl. After looking at it awhile, she put on the locket and smiled at the crow, fed it some fresh corn, and it was on its way. The rest of the night she lay on the sofa, turning over the locket, opening it to look at the silhouettes, then closing it to look at the red ruby. She dreamed of the crow and its gifts that night.

Ruby had awoken just before sunrise every morning, she would drink a glass of water before tending to her garden, and her early morning visitors. After the sun rose, she would sit on the steps and wait for her dear friend to swoop in. When the crow didn’t come back, that morning, she left fresh corn in a basket hanging from the edge of the roof; it was there that evening. The next morning was just the same, the corn was still there, she waited, but the crow never returned. Although she never saw it, every morning for over a year, she would leave fresh goods in the basket just in case it ever came back.

Ruby’s health was declining further and further through the months, at first it was sniffles and a slight cough for a few weeks. She would seem to get better before getting much worse, her heart began hurting throughout the day for minutes at a time, sometimes dropping her to the ground. She knew she needed medical attention for what she was experiencing, but she didn’t really even know where she was, how could she find a way back? There were no roads leading to the property, it was a mystery to her even how it was where it was, and how it had the utilities it did. She lived through the pain when it came, and it came more and more often.

Today she was lucky enough to wake up on her own terms. The pain that plagued her everyday had ceased today, she drank two glasses of water, feeling as young as she had when she first stepped foot in the lilac meadow. It was indeed, a peaceful sunrise. As she sat on her back porch, alone under the woven basket, she shed rivers of tears; some were happy, some were sad, all were life. When she stopped crying, the sun was high in the sky. She carried on with her garden through the evening before going inside to retrieve the notebook from the lavender table drawer, where it had been since the day she arrived. Ruby began writing about her friendship with the crow, and the trinkets that surrounded her in the frames. She fell asleep writing about her life. The crow visited her dreams, and she never awoke.