The Crow

Have you ever watched a baby bird learn how to fly? It’s inspiring in a way. The mother watches close by but not too close. The baby raises its wings, getting a feel for the wind, gliding in place as large gusts come and go. With little hops, the anticipation builds until the small bird finally leaps off of the branch. The mother takes off, almost as if she assumes the worst for her child, but at that last second before the point of no return, the baby bird flies. It’s that leap of faith, trusting in yourself enough to know what you’re meant to do even if it looks like you’re falling, that keeps me holding on.

You probably think I’m crazy, reading into birds like this, but the truth is that hope isn’t a luxury like it used to be. Ever since a nuclear bomb testing went wrong the world has collapsed into chaos. Food and drinking water have become scarce everywhere in the world, satellites were destroyed leaving all internet and broadcasting a thing of the past, without those three things holding us together, the economy collapsed. The whole planet has fallen into a permanent depression.

My wife and I get by. I’m a mechanic, she’s a farmer. Thankfully vehicles are always breaking down and there are still a few people left in our town that can afford fresh produce. But I have started to notice that the people that own cars are far and few between nowadays, and those who were better off are finally starting to feel the effects, cutting back on their visits to the farm.

That’s why I like to watch the birds, they have no worries and even if they did they could just fly away from any problem in their way. My favourite are the crows. My wife complains all they do is pick at the corn… I always tell her they’re trying to survive just like us. To prove my point I take the small, odd-looking, cobs along with fruit that has fallen and started to rot, and bring them to the tree line. Sure enough, they stopped flying into the garden so much. It was like we had come to an understanding. My wife’s opinion on the matter did not change though.

Instead, she had taken what little savings we had and bought a gun. It caused a huge argument. She justified herself by saying that with the number of crops the birds were eating it would be worth it with the money we’d earn with the extra produce. I defended the birds, saying it just wasn’t fair and that they’d stopped coming in since I started bringing them the tiny cobs and fruit. Not to mention that the losses from the past five years didn’t equal the amount she had paid for it!

In a heat, I stormed out of our small bungalow to go on a walk, not wanting to say anything I would regret later. As I walked through the woods, I came to realize that perhaps I was being stubborn. After all, she knew more about her business than I did. Maybe I was letting my love for the birds cloud my reason.

As I made my way back home to apologize, I heard a crow overhead. I smiled as I saw something sparkling in its talons. Almost as soon as I had noticed the item sparking in the sun, the bird dropped it almost right in front of me. Bending over to pick it up, I realized it was half of a heart-shaped locket. I opened it up only to find it empty except for the few letters engraved in it. I could make out a T, D, E, possibly a C, half of a U, P, and another A. It was then that I decided to bring it back home to my wife, it would be a nice surprise and help with my apology. I can’t remember the last time she was able to get a new piece of jewelry.

I’m not sure why but a feeling of dread washed over me as I entered our home. I saw my wife scrubbing dishes in an overly aggressive manner, the way she always does when she’s upset. I made my way to her, noticing I was being actively ignored I decided to simply put the necklace on her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten mad,” I whisper as I kiss her neck softly.

Her hand reached for the necklace and she looked down, a smile lit up on her face as she asked me where I found it. Happy to see her excitement, I told her about how a crow had dropped it, the look on her face turned from happiness to a sullen frown. She accused me of lying just so I could save the birds I was so crazy about. I had no clue what to say other than I wasn’t lying. That’s when the look came over her eyes, she had gotten that look so many times before. The last time I saw that look was when she killed our dog after she had decided I loved him more than her.

It’s the look she got when she decided our neighbour, a recently widowed woman, was visiting us too much which meant, in he mind, that we were having an affair. Not two days later her body was found hanging from the rafters, with a suicide note left on the floor. I never told the investigator that the handwriting was not my neighbour’s but my wife’s, knowing that she’d surely be executed for her crimes.

Just like a viper, she swiped at me with inhuman speed, leaving gashes from her nails across my face. The sting set in instantly, I felt the dirt from under her nails penetrating the wounds. She went and grabbed the shotgun she had purchased, proceeding to shove the barrel into my face she screamed at me to get up then marched me to the door with the gun pressing into my spine.

As we came outside she snarled at me to watch as she killed every single bird in the yard. For someone who had never shot a gun before, her aim was incredibly accurate. I watched as she looked through the scope, fired a shot into the trees, and the first bird dropped. The rest flew up in a panic, only to be pegged off one by one.

Tears filled my eyes as the innocent creatures began to drop. It was all my fault! I should have lied and told her I simply found it in the forest. More shots rang out after my wife reloaded. I begged her to stop, but she only cooed back, “‘til death do us part, my lovely wife.” The tone was sickly sweet and filled with indifference to my pain and guilt. She followed with, “Tell me you love me the most?” Though it was phrased like a question I knew it was a command,

I tried to steady my voice and smile, but my words came out more in a sobbing squeak, “I love you the most.”

A fake pouty look came over her face, “I don’t believe you.”

Once again she had the gun aimed at my face, my heart stopped as the shot rang out and I shut my eyes tight, but after a brief second I realized I wasn’t dead. Slowly, I opened my eyes only to see my wife lying in a crumpled mass before me. A new sense of sadness washed over me as I rushed to her side to find a growing patch of blood-forming right above her heart. I held her and cried only for a moment before I quickly looked around, searching for my wife’s murderer.

Not seven feet away from us stood an old man dressed in a black pinstriped suit, with a small red flower in his chest pocket. His skin looked leathery and unnaturally grey. His nose was elongated and pointed, imitating that of a beak. In his black-gloved hand, I saw a revolver and I knew that he was the only one that could have done such a horrible thing. I grabbed the shotgun next to my wife, aimed at the man’s head and pulled the trigger. The recoil kicked back into my shoulder, forcing me to let out a cry of pain. The pain no longer mattered once I saw the man drop to the ground. I ran over to make sure he was dead when I noticed a small object on the ground next to him. Confusion flooded my mind as I picked it up, it was the other half of the locket the crow had dropped in the woods that morning. With trembling hands, I opened it and dreaded the message I assumed it would read. Surely enough when I put the two halves together the engraved scripture was finally visible, it read “‘Til death do us part”. I went to look back at the man for more clues as to how this locket had my wife’s last words on it, but now instead of a man there was just a heap of empty clothes and a dead crow lying within them.