IBIS RECENS AURUM

Jackson’s head was throbbing and he was vaguely aware of something digging into his back. Pealing his eyes open he raised himself to his elbows and tried to ignore the drum solo that was beating painfully in his head. Rubbing his eyes, his vision cleared and Jackson realised he had no idea where he was. This wasn’t exactly surprising given his poor sense of direction and his tendency to fall asleep on public transport. What was surprising however, was the unusual number of feathers that surrounded him. Brown, white and amber spotted feathers littered the hard floor as far as he could see. His head felt foggy and was aching considerably, yet he began to roll to his side and attempted to stand up. Reaching underneath his back, he realised that he was lying on a golden egg about the size of a golf ball. The egg was cool to touch but solid and felt heavy in Jackson’s hands.

“Yuck!”

Shuddering, Jackson smelt rather than saw that his clothes were completely covered in bird poo. Standing up, he evaluated that his black t-shirt was now so splattered with muck that it resembled an abstract art project more than a respectable piece of attire. Without thinking he brushed his hands over his shirt and tried to wipe the poo off his chest. He gave up as the poo just smeared deeper into the fabric and made the smell worse. Sighing, he looked at his hands, that were now the same colour and smell as his shirt.

“Whoops.”

The egg that was a golden colour, now had a considerable amount of poo on it too. Wiping the egg on the cleanest corner of his shirt, he put it into his pocket and wondered how much he could sell it for and if it was actual gold.

Looking around Jackson got his bearings. The ceiling was high and had several skylights installed where the afternoon sun was shining through the dirty stained glass. The walls were made of wooden planks and were connected to metal beams that reached across the entire warehouse. Hanging from the beams were hundreds and hundreds of hooks. Jackson’s heartbeat quickened and matched the throbbing in his head.

A random memory surfaced, as he remembered sneaking into to a butcher’s shop with his mates as part of a high school dare to steal a steak. The dare went amiss when one of his mates ran into the back room, slipped on the freshly mopped floor and fell headfirst into an pig carcass hanging off a butcher’s hook. The shock and site of it resulted in his mate vomiting onto the freshly cleaned tiles. The noise and commotion had alerted the butcher, consequently Jackson, alongside his mates, were quickly caught. The only reason the police weren’t called was because, Tim, the eldest of the boys, struck a deal with the butcher, whereby the boys would clean the shop and help with deliveries for the rest of the summer. While Jackson laughed at the time, at seeing his mate fall face first into a pig, the image of the dead animal hanging off the hook had stayed with him and he couldn’t help being unnerved at the site of the hundreds of metal hooks hanging from the beams.

‘Calm down mate’ he thought to himself, ‘These hooks are different. They aren’t nearly as thick. They don’t even look like they could hold me up.’ He was right, the hooks were rusted and some of them looked like they were seconds away from falling and crashing to the floor. Jackson shuffled forward across the tiled floors, stepping through the feathers, which when standing, covered his shoes completely. ‘There has to be a door around here somewhere.’

Jackson moved as quickly as his body would allow him, which wasn’t very fast. Now, most people would have wondered why their head was throbbing, why they were covered in bird poo or why they were in the warehouse at all. Jackson rather, was more preoccupied with getting out of the warehouse covered in feathers and with the realization that he was desperately thirsty.

“Ah ha!”

Jackson had shuffled far enough to reach the left side of the warehouse where, sure enough there was a door. It was also wooden and looked like it hadn’t been opened in a long time. Jackson grasped the door handle and twisted. It didn’t move. He twisted the handle again but the door didn’t budge. With a rising irritation, he stepped back and kicked the door, hard. The door flew open and sunlight rushed in, temporarily blinding his vision. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he figured out where he was. He was at the back of Branwall Station. ‘How the heck did I get here?’ Branwall Station was at least a half an hour walk away from his house. Given the state of his head, which he was now thinking could quite possibly be a concussion, the walk would probably take longer. Looking back through the door, a breeze had entered the room and the feathers were fluttering and dancing in the air. Rubbing his arm across his forehead, he paused and watched the unusual sight of hundreds of feathers floating in the breeze. He thought he saw a lone barn owl in the corner of warehouse but he blinked and it was gone. Turning, he began the walk home.

As he walked along the road, several cars drove past with passengers and drivers giving him strange looks. One family had slowed down to ask if he needed a ride but he quickly waved them on. He didn’t fancy the conversation and had a feeling that if had gotten into the car he would have been sick. The fresh air was doing a good job of reducing the stench of the bird poo and he was sure that getting into a crowded minivan with three children, would make the stench unbearable. As it was, Jackson was already feeling nauseous.

He figured that the people were looking at him strangely because he was covered in bird poo. While, in reality the unappreciated attention was being attracted by the line of barn owls, flying several meters above his head. Completely oblivious to the birds that had followed him home, Jackson entered quickly through his front door and headed straight to the shower. Reaching his hands behind his neck, the crusty fabric dropped flecks of poo onto the shower mat as he took off his shirt. The water rinsed away the grime and muck and a lone feather washed down the drain. Shaking his head at the ridiculous situation he had found himself in, yet again, he turned the water off and climbed into bed.

He awoke the next morning to loud sounds of hooting outside his window. Now Branwall, was a town filled with commonplace birds. The small city was filled with pigeons, sparrows, ducks and the like. Owls on the other hand were rarely seen in the region, especially not in June. Nonetheless, this was a fact known only to the avid birdwatcher or owl lover. Jackson was neither. Crawling out of bed, nature called and he proceeded to the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he noticed his crinkled jeans on the floor. Remembering suddenly the golden egg, he crouched down and grabbed his pants. Clambering through the denim, he tried to avoid the caked on crap and searched the pockets. His fingers found the cool egg and he quickly discarded his pants to the floor. Holding the egg up to the light, he could see that there was a small inscription. Jackson felt like he had seen it before, it read,

IBIS RECENS AURUM

‘Well there you go, pity I don’t know Latin.’ With newfound inspiration and a renowned sense of purpose, despite his lack of Latin, Jackson proceed to the local pawn shop. He headed out the front door, grabbed his bike and gasped.

“What the-?”

The entire driveway was covered in bird poo. ‘How disgusting, what is wrong with this town?’ Jackson hopped on his bike and pedalled nonchalantly down the street. Reaching the pawn shop, Jackson wandered in and walked the familiar path past the old video games, leather jackets, jewellery cabinets and exercise equipment.

“Jackson! How are you son?”

Nigel, the store owner, flashed him a toothy grin.

“Doing well thanks mate. Listen, I have something for you.”

Jackson placed the egg on the table and waited for Nigel’s reaction.

“Ooohh, now what do we have here?”

Reaching for his tools, Nigel began running tests to gauge the quality of the item. As time passed, Nigel became more and more excited. His voice got higher and faster the more he spoke.

“Blimey, where did you get this? It’s a rare find, a rare find indeed. You know there are legends about this egg. Legends about owls and gold. The finder attracts owls with gold feathers. Owls are wise, that’s where the legend came about. Gold, oh yes, this egg is gold.”

Nigel continued to ramble on about treasure and feathers while Jackson watched with keen interest at the man’s antics.

“Are sure you want to sell it to me?” Nigel remarked softly.

Jackson paused, remembering the events of yesterday. Reflecting on his crusty shirt, the walk home, the stench and the warehouse he responded with confidence, “Yeah I’m sure, what’s your offer?”

Thus proceeded the ins and outs of negotiation; which resulted in both parties feeling like they had gotten a better deal than the other. Jacob pocketed the cash as he left the store, the door chimes sounding as the door slammed shut. A single feather floated into his vision as he was hopping onto his bike. Looking up, Jackson saw the lone barn owl sitting on one of the store ledges. The owl was beautiful and appeared to be staring directly at Jackson. The owl looked as if he knew something that Jackson didn’t. Shrugging away the feeling, that he was being watched, he peddled home.

As Jackson rode home, he took a different route to usual and decided to go under Branwall Bridge. But the track was bumpy and uneven. Abruptly, he hit a patch of loose gravel and flew over the handle bars. He landed painfully on his back and tried to regain his breath. As he recovered, he noticed that his head was throbbing and something was digging into his back.

Reaching underneath him, his hands clasped something cool and solid. It was the golden egg. Jackson eyes widened and his hands started to shake. As he tried to push himself up to a seat, his hands brushed something soft. Feathers. Hundreds of them, littering the ground, covering his pants and shoes. Repeating the inscription on the egg as if it were a mantra to himself, he tried not to panic.

“Ibis Recens Aurum, Ibis Recens Aurum, Ibis Recens Aurum.”

When he stood up, he looked around and realized that he was back in the same wooden warehouse. Breathing deeply, he called out,

“Nigel? Is that you?”

Of course there was no answer. Just as before, Jackson was completely alone in the warehouse with only feathers and the egg for company. For you see, Jackson was bound to the warehouse. While the golden egg was foretold to bring treasure to its owner, this wasn’t exactly true.

For all unnatural objects of mystique and magic there is a price to be paid. Jackson some time ago had paid the price from a cruel butcher who had chosen to curse a young boy for breaking into his shop. The butcher had slipped the egg into Jackson’s back pocket and until the egg is forced upon another, Jackson will be doomed to repeat the same day again and again, with only the vaguest idea that it is being repeated.

For that was the curse of Ibis Recens Aurum.