Elsa broke out of the woods and onto the main path leading out of the park. Several dogs barked at the mass of crows pursuing her. She ran panting into the washroom by the ball field and slammed the door.
The group hovered over, cawing wildly. Some even pecked at the window. But without Lustre to egg them on, they eventually lost their thirst for blood and circled back to court to regroup.
“Where is Lustre?” asked the princess, sinking down onto the throne.
The crows all looked around the branches, panting amongst themselves, hearts pounding.
“He must have followed Cracks into the Hollowing Tree,” announced Careen in a confident voice.
She is becoming bold, thought Boughbend.
“Ah, yes,” said the princess. “That makes sense.”
“Hear, hear!” agreed the group, settling their ruffled feathers.
Boughbend lifted up out of the clearing to scan the horizon in all directions. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a black bird flying low, far on the country side of the river. It seemed too small to be a raven.
Elsa rinsed the cuts and scratches on her arms in the sink. They were mostly from the trees, but there was a deep one on her hand from a crow. She washed it with soap.
She tucked her necklace under her shirt and timidly peeked out from under the roof of the building. The coast was clear. She could hear caws from the court.
Elsa made a break for it and ran all the way home.
When Elsa burst through the door, Claire jolted up on the couch.
“Oh, sorry,” said Elsa, feeling bad to have woken her.
“It’s okay,” said Claire. “I’ve got lots to do today.” She yawned.
“But it’s your day off,” protested Elsa. “You should have some fun.”
“Day off?” asked Claire sarcastically. “What’s that?”
“Fuh-un?” taunted Elsa in a deep, silly voice. “What’s that?”
Claire gave a begrudging little grin, rubbing her eyes. Her brow furrowed when she sat up.
“What happened to your arms?”
“Oh,” said Elsa, looking down at the cuts and scratches, “I was just running in the woods.”
Distract.
“Seriously, though, don’t you think you should take some time for yourself today? Let loose a little,” suggested Elsa.
In truth, Elsa was a bit worried about Claire. She was looking paler, thinner, and more haggard every day. Her tight little shoulders were almost up to her ears.
Claire looked at the pile of unfinished work on the table.
“Don’t you have a friend you could call? Go for a coffee or something?” Elsa stared at her with that blank look she used on Ms. Witherspoon when in a standoff.
Claire bristled a bit. It was true that she had drifted from friends and fun of late.
“You’re right,” she sighed. “It’s been a while since I went for a run.”
While Claire got changed, Elsa put a bandage over the deep cut and ate a bowl of cereal. She contemplated her next move. She wanted to go back to the Hollowing Tree to look for Cracks, but now she needed a disguise.
Claire returned in running clothes and joined her for a bowl of cereal. They both ate in a brooding silence. Claire’s heart seemed heavy. Elsa’s was, too.
What if I never see Cracks again? It’s been three days since Mom went into the hospital. When is Claire going to say something? Why doesn’t anybody ever tell me anything?
Elsa was feeling angry now. Claire seemed to sense it.
“After my run, do you want to come with me to see Gran?”
“Really?” groaned Elsa. Those visits were always awful.
A few years back, Gran had assaulted someone while in the throes of one of her “episodes.” The courts had dealt with it by placing her in a constant care home with other mentally ill seniors. Elsa couldn’t stand the vibe of the place and Gran often said something harsh that made everyone feel uncomfortable.
“We’ll be quick, I promise. I hate it there, too, but she’s my mom. I feel guilty if I don’t drop in once and a while.”
“But you were just there yesterday.”
“That was to speak with the administrator, about…” Claire drifted off, with a tense look on her face. “Well, Gran was stirring up trouble again. Anyway, they’ve got her fully medicated now.” There was a hint of resentment in her voice. “She’ll be easy to deal with today, I’m sure of it.”
Elsa sat back in her chair and pouted. She stared blankly at Claire.
Why aren’t we talking about my mother?
“And then after that you can come to the hospital with me,” sighed Claire. “We should be able to talk to a doctor today.”
“Okay,” said Elsa, staring down at her empty bowl.
After Claire left for her run, Elsa went upstairs to change all her clothes. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and tucked it up into a hoodie. She even grabbed a pair of sunglasses. She opted to leave her blue fall coat at home.
Entering the park, Elsa could see the crows had dispersed to seek their food for the day. She passed one perched on a garbage can close by and felt her heart begin to race. The crow was so caught up in picking through the garbage it hardly noticed her.
Her heart jumped into her mouth when another crow landed just a few paces in front of her. It tilted its head and stared at her with empty reptilian eyes, then started pecking at the ground.
They don’t recognize me.
Elsa breathed a sigh of relief and quickened her pace towards the Hollowing Tree.
She waited self-consciously while a family strolled by with their dogs. After they passed, she removed her sunglasses and stuck her head in the hollow.
“Cracks!” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”
The wind blew through the holes in the tree. She thought she heard the faintest “Yooooo-hoooo!” but discounted it as the wind.
Elsa leaned on the edge of the hollow and pondered. A queen would have a High Crow name. “Seer,” she whispered. “Vantage. Knower. Big Picture.”
No. It would be something beautiful, too. “Skyview. Windfollow. Allsight. Visionary,” she tried again. It was no use.
She looked out to check for crows. A sweaty, winded Claire jogged up the path.
“Oh, hey!” she breathed.
“Hi.”
“I was just about to head back,” smiled Claire, looking more rosy, luminous, and relaxed than she had all week.
Elsa was glad. She smiled an impish grin. “Race ya!”
Claire smiled back and lurched ahead dramatically. The race was on! Elsa darted to catch her. As she left the tree, the lip of the hollow grabbed a lone red hair that had been stuck to the hoodie.
Lustre squeezed the life out of the field mouse and ate joylessly. He noticed Elsa’s dried blood on his claw. He scraped some flakes off with his beak and breathed them up into his mouth. It was delicious.
I’d like to taste her eyes.
A hint of the smell of country fox wafted over the wind. Lustre stiffened. He was vulnerable here on the ground.
Lustre lifted up into the air.
“Krrrkkkkkll, Krrrlllllkkkkk,” hissed a raven, coming out of nowhere.
Two more teamed up with him and they darted and tossed, pecking at Lustre in the air.
“Get out of here, City Crow!” one shouted.
“Begone, garbage eater!” threatened another.
Lustre tried to get up above them, but they were too big and powerful. The largest of the three ravens came swooping in and gave him a hard slash to his wing.
“Carrawwwk!” screamed Lustre in pain. He watched as a clump of wing-feather fell from his beautiful shiny wing. His wing bone seared with hot agony. He felt blood falling. He couldn’t fly with as much control.
The ravens continu
ed their attack. “You are not welcome here, garbage eater!” He flinched away as they pecked within a feather’s width of his neck.
Lustre dropped the mouse as an offering and swooped away. The ravens gave up the chase.
Lustre landed, heart pounding, to get a closer look at his wing. The missing feathers would leave a permanent gap.
I’ll look like Cracks! he lamented woefully.
Suddenly a fox pounced. Lustre barely escaped with his life. Despite the sting, he flapped as hard as he could to take refuge in a nearby old barn.
I hate the country, he seethed.
“Did ya get my smokes?” demanded Gran.
Claire shook her head quietly.
“Well, what good are ya, then?” Gran shouted angrily with wild eyes.
Elsa sank into the chair, trying to melt into the wall.
Gran waved an arm in her direction. “Who’s this ugly critter?” she yelled.
Claire closed her eyes with frustration. “Mom, this is Elsa. She’s grown quite a bit since last time, hasn’t she?” Claire tried to smile.
“Ugly as her mother,” Gran grunted under her breath, fidgeting in her bed. She turned back to Claire. “I told you, I NEED cigarettes. What kinda daughter ya call yerself, anyway?” she uttered gruffly.
“One who’s got to get going,” said Claire through tight lips. “C’mon.” She motioned to Elsa. “Bye, Mom. Enjoy yourself.”
“I’ll be glad once you folks are gone!” shouted Gran harshly from the room as they walked down the hall.
Claire marched faster, grabbing Elsa to follow pace. The fresh air felt good as they burst through the doors.
“That’s the medicated version?” asked Elsa as they walked to the car.
“I’m sorry to have put you through that,” said Claire, fishing through her messy purse for her keys. “Are you sure you want to come to the hospital? It might be more of the same.”
Elsa just nodded stoically.
“All right,” sighed Claire.
They drove in silence for a long time. Elsa was brooding about what might happen. More and more knots formed in her stomach. She needed to think of something else.
“It must have been hard for you growing up.”
Claire raised her eyebrows to herself and kept driving.
“She wasn’t always like that. She could be really fun when she was up,” she said after a while. “Creative. Funny. She’d let us do silly things like eat spaghetti in the bathtub and stuff. But the depression hollowed her out, the addictions, the bad choices…the meds…She’s stable now, but she’s a shell of the woman she used to be.” Claire paused carefully and then said, “And she could be very harsh with us.”
Claire cast a glance at Elsa as they turned in to the hospital. Elsa kept staring straight ahead.
“You know you can tell me anything, right, Elsa?”
Elsa looked down in her lap with a little nod.
She’s wondering if Mom has been violent.
Claire wasn’t the only one. There had been talk at school in the past as well. Psychologists. A social worker dropped by once. They all spoke to Elsa in high-pitched baby talk that made her want to throw something at the wall. She had duped them all. Claire wouldn’t be so easy. Elsa knew she wouldn’t be able to lie to her.
“It isn’t a betrayal,” assured Claire.
Distract.
“Do you think you’ll ever have kids?”
“God, no!” Claire responded immediately. “Who would want to join this crazy family?” she said with a laugh.
Elsa gave an awkward smile, but inside her heart sank. Claire doesn’t want a child.
“Okay,” said Claire, taking a big breath as they pulled up into the parking lot. “Let’s go get your mum.”
They waited for a long time. Nurses ambled past. Orderlies pushed people in wheelchairs. Fluorescent light bulbs hummed. At last the doctor approached Claire and asked her to join him over at the main desk.
Elsa wanted to come, too, but Claire’s body language said stay put.
Nobody tells me anything!
She watched them converse in hushed voices down the hall. Elsa couldn’t make out what was being said, but Claire seemed to become tenser and more upset. The doctor maintained his air of firm professionalism as she grilled him with questions. At last she threw up her hands. She stormed down the hall briskly.
“Let’s go. They are keeping her.”
“What?!” exclaimed Elsa, jumping up to keep pace. “But I want to see her!”
“I know. But they say it’s a ‘bad time.’” Claire was angry, but she kept it very contained.
“But they can’t just keep her!” shrieked Elsa.
“Actually, they can. It’s called a Form 1B. They can hold her for thirty days, whether she likes it or not.”
“But why?”
“Because freedom becomes a slippery deal once mental health is involved,” said Claire in a monotone. “They have the right to keep her against her will because she threatened to jump.”
“But when can I see her?” pleaded Elsa, double-timing her steps to keep up with Claire’s brisk march.
Claire stopped and turned to her. “Soon,” she said, softening. “We can visit her soon.”
“But doesn’t she want out?” asked Elsa quietly.
“They say she wants to stay for a while.”
Elsa fought back tears.
“She just needs time, Elsa,” soothed Claire.
Elsa bolted ahead of her in the parking lot. She ran towards a group of gulls.
“Caw!” she shrieked, spreading her arms wide, releasing a burst of rage at the birds.
The gulls picked up and flew away in fear.
The princess sobbed in little sniffs on the branch where she perched.
“What’s wrong, m’lady?” asked Breezy tenderly.
“What if Lustre doesn’t come back?” whimpered the princess.
“He will,” assured Careen.
“But what if he doesn’t come back tonight?” she whined.
Breezy and Careen exchanged a knowing look.
“I’m sure you’ll do a fine job choosing the roost,” ventured Breezy.
“But I don’t know what to do!” protested the princess.
“Don’t worry,” said Careen. “If you can’t decide, fly over to my right and I’ll choose for you and you can follow me. No one will know.”
Breezy’s eyes almost popped out of her head. Careen glared at her.
“Are you sure?” sniffed the princess.
“Of course I’m sure,” said Careen, wrapping her wing around the princess to comfort her. She motioned firmly to Breezy with her head.
Breezy quickly joined them, stroking the Princess’s head with her wing.
“Everything will be fine,” said Careen, soothing the princess, but staring straight at Breezy.
It was a sullen, silent ride home. When they pulled up to the house, Claire turned to Elsa.
“How about pad thai tonight?” She knew it was Elsa’s favourite. Plus, Claire didn’t have the gumption to cook anything right now.
“I just want to go for a walk by myself,” Elsa said angrily.
“Okay,” said Claire. “I’ll go pick something up. Meet you back here.”
Elsa slammed the car door and didn’t look back.
Claire ran her hands through her hair and rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a moment. She felt helpless and unable to console Elsa. Watching her little body trudge down the street, Claire pulled away for the take-out.
Elsa pulled up her hoodie and walked to the park. The sunset blasted radiant gold, pink, and orange, but she was too angry to see it. She kicked a pop can.
“Arrrrrr!” she belted, running wildly down the path to the Hollowing Tree.
Elsa found an old rotten log and smashed it against the tree. She bent down to overturn a big rock that was cradled in the earth. As she wrenched it from its place, her hood fell back.
Above, Careen was about to guide the group down into her favourite stand, the trees that faced the court on one side and the tennis court road on the other. She saw the red-haired girl and changed course.
“The girl!” she screeched. “The gull spy! Get her!”
The princess just naturally followed Careen without thinking, so relieved that someone else was taking the lead. The group followed the princess.
Many of the young crows, still hot with lust for war from earlier, keenly took up the chase.
“Take her out!” “Get her for the queen!” they shouted.
Elsa looked up from her madness to see the whole group barrelling down toward her.
Fear has a way of making anger disappear instantaneously. She bolted for the woods.
Hundreds of crows followed her, getting closer. She tripped on a log, but it helped her evade the first attacker and she went with it, turning it into a somersault and then continuing the run.
Cracks would have liked that.
She darted and weaved through the dark wood, but the crows had caught up. She covered her head as they scorched past with extended claws and fierce beaks.
Many others followed over top of the trees, shouting taunts from above and dropping feces.
Ruffle and Popcan hung back, looking at each other uncomfortably. This was someone’s fledgling, too.
“The gulls can’t have our park!” screeched Billow.
“Aim for her eyes!” howled Wrapper, in hot pursuit.
“Call them back!” Boughbend shouted to the princess. “They have no authority!”
But the princess found it all so exhilarating, “Get that lowly girl!” she shrieked.
“Get her for our queen!” added Careen with all her might.
Boughbend shuddered inside. This was the opposite of everything the queen stood for.
Elsa drew them towards the river, but then quickly reversed course back towards the Hollowing Tree. The crows lost ground on her, having difficulty slowing down and turning around in the dimming light, thwarted by trees. When Elsa burst back into the clearing, many of the hovering crows felt compelled to join in the attack.
Queen of the Crows Page 9
