Queen of the Crows

by Harmony Wagner

  Gulls’ feet are webbed; they can’t squeeze around a neck like that, thought Boughbend.

  “Boughbend!” shouted Lustre. Boughbend stiffened, standing taller.

  “Fly close to the princess!” Lustre commanded.

  That goes without saying, thought Boughbend, with a surge of anger.

  “Everyone else, get ready to take your formation for the procession! We fly undaunted!” Lustre turned to Ruffle and Popcan and bowed graciously. “We await your signal.”

  “Caa-aaaaa-aaaaw,” sobbed the parents quietly. They bent over her body for a few minutes while the rest of the crows held silent. After a while, they looked at each other and nodded. Tenderly they gathered each wing in their grasp and lifted Berry’s limp body up into the air.

  They flew her up over the trees and headed for the river. With a deafening roar of caws, the entire group of crows lifted up, forming a circle of protection around them as they made their way towards the shoreline, the domain of the gulls.

  Arr! Arr! Arr! alarmed a group of gulls as the crows flew over en masse.

  Several crows darted down to threaten, as the rest of the group flew out over the water. Other crows dropped feces as they passed.

  Boughbend, on high alert, took in information at all levels. The locations of the gulls, the shape of the group, the position of the parents, the tears in the princess’s eyes.

  Cracks hung respectfully at the back of the group. He knew that no one wanted to see the jester on an occasion as sombre as this.

  Lustre flew high above everyone, to remind them that he could. Gradually, he let the group get ahead of him and then quietly he turned wing, slipping back to the park unseen.

  Soon Ruffle and Popcan slowed, way out over where the river met the sea. Satisfied they were far enough from the gulls, they let Berry’s body drop into the river. Thousands of crows flew in circles above, blackening a section of sky, shouting: “One of ours!” “One of ours!” “Berry was ours!” “She was one of ours!”

  Ruffle and Popcan flew wildly, careening and speeding to release their grief. Surrounded by their tribe, the parents wailed out their sorrow, while the rest of the group hovered over the body, waiting for it to sink.

  Disinterested in emotional affairs, Lustre had slipped away to take advantage of a moment alone with the throne. He spiralled down and touched the firmness of the stone with great satisfaction. He had always wanted to know what it felt like to stand here. Alone in the clearing, he savoured the feeling and admired how the sun reflected off the sheen of his shiny black outstretched wings.

  A twig snapped behind him. He instinctively flapped out of the throne and then laughed at himself. It was only the red-headed girl. He stepped deliciously back onto the stone as he watched her make her way closer through the woods.

  He had seen her many times. In fact, he had often thought that she seemed somewhat crowlike. She seemed to be a part of her people, yet separate. Just as the crows were a part of the city, but ignored. Plus, she was fond of digging through the garbage and collecting shiny things.

  She paused as she approached the clearing and saw him standing on the stone.

  “Are you the queen?” she asked in a friendly tone.

  He leaped off the throne with a shot of nerves. How does she know about the queen? He shook his ruffled feathers back into place, trying to regain his composure.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked, peering up at the empty trees.

  Will she understand me if I respond? I had better not. Lustre tilted his head and pretended to be just another stupid crow, as he usually did with humans.

  She stepped closer to examine him. “Oh, you must be Lustre. Are you allowed to stand on the throne while the queen is gone?”

  Lustre felt a bit of urine slip out as he took flight in a panic.

  How does she know me? he wondered, completely mystified. Is she the queen’s spy?

  He flew out of her sights as quickly as he could. Panting on a branch, he watched her search the woods a little longer, then make her way back towards the houses.

  Perhaps I have underestimated the power of the queen, he thought.

  Walking home, Elsa thought it was odd not to see the usual stream of crows trailing back to their roost by this time in the evening. It was bad enough that the queen was missing. She certainly didn’t want them all to disappear!

  She expected to see Claire when she opened the door, perhaps looking a bit disappointed because Elsa hadn’t texted to say she wouldn’t be coming straight home from school. Instead the house was still and dim.

  Elsa felt a little pang of sadness not to see Claire there. She liked the idea of coming home every day to her steady, calm energy. She climbed the stairs and checked to see if Claire was napping in her mother’s bedroom. The room was tidied, with the bed made neatly. Without signs of her mother’s chaos, Elsa felt another pang of sadness.

  She had been trying not to think about her, but now she couldn’t help but wonder what was happening in the hospital. Claire had said that because her mother had threatened to jump off the roof they had to keep her for three days for “observation,” whatever that meant.

  Elsa climbed onto the bed and buried her face in the pillows. She could smell the faintest trace of her mother’s hair. She turned over and stared blankly at the ceiling for a long time in the quiet, darkening room.

  In the distance, at last she heard the crows and she felt the tightness in her stomach relax as their caws drew nearer. She allowed two tiny tears to drip down the sides of her cheeks.

  The sky streaked pink and orange as the group made their return with the sinking sun. Thousands of piercing caws echoed across the water and resounded through the park. Humans walking their dogs along the boardwalk stopped and pointed at the massive morphing black shape that travelled ever closer. The gulls lay low and gave them no guff as they passed over the rock embankment. The group returned to the clearing to find Lustre standing in front of the throne. He opened his wings wide.

  “Ruffle. Popcan. Our hearts and song are ever with you.”

  The mourning parents softly tilted their heads.

  “It has been a difficult day for us all and there will be much to discuss tomorrow. But for now we have an urgent matter to address,” said Lustre in a grave voice.

  He relished how they all leaned in, hearts almost pounding now, hanging on his every word. “We need a peaceful sleep tonight. If it would please the court, might I humbly suggest that the princess select our roosting trees tonight?”

  Breezy breathed out a sigh of relief. Careen stood taller, relishing the idea.

  “Me?” squealed the princess. “But how should I know?”

  Lustre’s eyes narrowed with satisfaction. She has taught her nothing.

  “It is of no matter,” said Lustre quickly and authoritatively. “I am happy to oblige if the princess so desires.”

  “Yes. I so desire.”

  Careen sank. She knew she would have been the one to really make the decision if the princess hadn’t so easily passed her power off to Lustre.

  “She so desires!” “Lustre will choose!” “Follow Lustre!” And other such caws rippled through the trees.

  And with that, Lustre felt like a king. He lifted up high above the park and studied their options. Thousands of crows followed him up, flitting through the dimming sky, waiting for his signal. He had no idea what the queen looked for when she selected which trees they would roost in for the night and he didn’t care. He was going to enjoy faking it to the fullest degree.

  He decided on the stand of trees between the baseball diamond and the large open field, and banked sideways towards them. The whole group followed suit, shouting: “It’s Lustre’s choice!” “Lustre has chosen!” “Follow Lustre!”

  Elsa clumped down the stairs and meandered into the kitchen. She saw a note from Claire saying
she might be late, but that there were groceries in the fridge.

  She opened the door and saw a sight she had never seen. The refrigerator was absolutely packed with food! Juice. Jam. Little yogurts for lunches…it was like a box from heaven had arrived.

  Most kids have to be pressured to eat their vegetables, but not Elsa. Her eyes almost popped out of her skull when she pulled open the drawer and saw red peppers, broccoli, carrots, onions, and more. Living with her mum had meant a lot of white bread and eggs and she was sick of it. She eagerly pulled the veggies out onto the counter and started chopping.

  It was after seven when Claire burst through the door.

  “I’m sorry I’m so late,” she called out, unloading a bunch of tools and craft supplies onto the floor. “Christmas shoppers! It’s a love/hate relationship.”

  Claire looked up and saw the table set for two. Elsa stood at the stove, putting the finishing touches on a veggie stirfry.

  “Elsa, it smells amazing in here!”

  Elsa gave a shy little smile. Claire came to take to a closer look at her creation.

  “Who’s taking care of who here, huh?” Claire asked with a smile, tousling Elsa’s hair lovingly.

  Elsa shied away a bit, not accustomed to such attention. But when she turned back, hoping for more, Claire was already grabbing the plates.

  “You are an absolute dream,” said Claire with her back to her. Elsa felt a warm glow wriggle through her body.

  They served out the meal and sat down at the table. Claire was obviously starving. She wolfed down a big bite.

  “Mmm,” she said, chomping her mouthful, “dee-licious.”

  They ate in the happy silence that comes when hungry people are enjoying a good meal. Occasionally Elsa looked up, stealing glances at her wonderful aunt ploughing through the food.

  Elsa felt a layer of tension releasing from her body. Maybe her cells were celebrating the return of much-needed vitamins and minerals. Or maybe, for the first time in a long time, she just felt happy.

  “Thanks for getting groceries,” said Elsa when they were done.

  Claire looked at Elsa with that wistful gaze again. “Of course, honey.”

  “I know you are really busy. I can do the shopping and laundry and stuff,” offered Elsa.

  Claire gave a pursed little smile that seemed like she would refuse, but then she just said, “Thank you.” A bit of tension released from her shoulders, too. “It’s going to be a bit crazy for a while. I am behind in my orders and I can’t get anything done at the store with Christmas coming up.”

  Elsa looked at the pile of work by the door. “Why don’t you get started? I can do the dishes.”

  Claire sank back in her chair and stared straight into Elsa. Her eyes welled up with a glistening sheen. Unaccustomed to all this direct eye contact, Elsa felt awkward. She quickly picked up the dishes and took them to the sink.

  “No matter what Dana may have said to you in the past, I want you to know that you are a wonderful kid, Elsa.”

  Elsa felt that glow ripple through her body again, but as much as she wanted to look up and smile into that spotlight of love, it was somehow too much to bear. Instead she filled the sink and gave an awkward little nod.

  “Young woman, really,” added Claire.

  Elsa felt another layer of tension begin to melt. It felt so good to be recognized for how well she had held it together for the past week. Past years. As Dana’s younger sister, Claire had a good idea of how crazy and hard it had been.

  Elsa also liked how Claire wasn’t prying her for details. There was an unspoken respect and understanding that flowed between them. Like soldiers who had come through the same war.

  After the dishes were done, Elsa joined Claire in the living room. Tools, wires, and various bits of weird, cool-looking stuff were strewn all over the coffee table. Claire was hunched over a little sculpture of a robot built out of old watch parts and circuits. Claire’s work always had a distinctive steampunk look. She had a way of seeing beauty in things that other people threw away.

  “Cool!” said Elsa.

  “It’s a new line I’m working on,” she said through gritted teeth that held a tiny screw. “And it’s selling like hotcakes,” she added with a tone that almost sounded like regret.

  Claire worked the tiny screw into place and then looked up. “Want to come hang out at the shop tomorrow?”

  “Yes!” squealed Elsa with the unmistakable exuberance of an eleven-year-old girl.

  When Elsa awoke, the sun was high. It was the latest she had slept in for a long time. She stretched her arms out like wings. The clock said 9:44 a.m.

  Downstairs, she found Claire asleep with her pliers in her hand again. Six beautiful little robot sculptures sat on wooden bases covered in cylindrical glass domes on the coffee table. Elsa was pretty sure the shop opened at ten.

  She went into the kitchen and packed a bag of apples, yogurts, granola bars, and the leftover stirfry.

  Elsa had noticed that Claire had brought a glass pitcher with a mesh plunger and coffee with her when she’d moved in. Elsa put on the kettle and pulled up the plunger to clean out the old coffee grounds that sat at the bottom of the glass contraption.

  Once it was clean, she tried to pour about the same amount of grounds in. Noticing the kettle was about to boil, she quickly flipped the lid so the whistle wouldn’t wake Claire. She wanted her to have every minute of sleep she could afford.

  Elsa carefully poured the boiled water over the grounds and set the little mesh plunger on top. She paused for a second, wondering how long she should wait before she pushed the plunger down. The grounds and water swirled into a brown soup. She decided to go for it. Slowly and carefully she pushed the mesh down, which collected the coffee grounds and pushed them down to the bottom, leaving a clear, dark rich drink above. Proud of herself for figuring it out, Elsa decided it was time to wake Claire.

  “Claire, it’s ten to ten,” said Elsa softly, holding a travel mug full of coffee by her nose.

  Claire startled awake with a jump and a look of horror. When she saw the packed bag and coffee in front of her, she relaxed back into the couch for an instant, rubbing her eyes.

  “Oh my goodness, Elsa. You are a life-saver.”

  They packed everything up into the car quickly and scooted to the shop. Claire turned the sign from closed to open at 10:01.

  Elsa absolutely loved Claire’s shop. It was like nothing else in their small city. Electric blue butterflies encased in glass, skulls of little animals, large drippy beeswax candles, and, of course, the original works of art that Claire created made it seem like you had stepped into a futuristic antique otherworld. Elsa felt a swell of pride at how Claire had made her weirdness work for her, instead of feeling like a freak that didn’t quite fit into society.

  Even better than the shop was the mess behind the counter. Boxes and bags of odds and ends lined the workbench. Bits of watch gears, little bronze octopuses, metallic buttons, chains, fabric, and feathers were strewn everywhere. It was a treasure trove of cool things to discover.

  On the other side of the workbench was a small cot. Claire had lived at the house with Dana and Gran when Elsa was born. But she moved out when Elsa was about three to go to art school. Now she lived at her store.

  Elsa looked around at all the amazing raw materials as Claire set out the new glass-domed robots on the counter.

  “You can make something if you want,” she offered.

  “Really?” exclaimed Elsa.

  “Of course,” she said with a grin, sipping her coffee and looking up to welcome the first customers of the day.

  Elsa sifted through a pile of pre-made metallic shapes. Skulls, hearts, hands, keys, starfish, flames… There was so much to choose from!

  Claire put on interesting music that Elsa enjoyed much more than the radio her mother normally p
layed. Customers came and went. When they went, Claire dug into half-finished projects, answered phone calls, and researched supply orders online. Elsa studied the hunched line of her high shoulders and could see where the dark circles under her eyes came from.

  “How you doin’ over there?” asked Claire. “Bored?”

  “Not in the least!” squealed Elsa.

  She had sifted for hours through piles of raw materials and had decided on a few pieces she wanted to attach into a necklace. A heart, two wings, and a crown.

  “Can I attach different pieces of these together?” she asked.

  “If you want to learn how to use a soldering iron you can,” said Claire with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Really? You’ll teach me?” Elsa couldn’t believe Claire would let her use the hot metal-bonding tool.

  “Of course,” Claire nodded. “It’s not that hard, you just have to be careful.”

  Claire showed Elsa how to make the little dabs of molten metal that acted like glue between the metallic parts. Elsa attached the wings to either side of the heart and then the crown above it.

  “I really like your design,” said Claire. “It’s a classic.”

  Elsa held the piece up to admire her handiwork. “I was hoping to make it into a necklace.”

  “Bonding the loops for the chain is a bit trickier. How ’bout I do that part?”

  Elsa nodded with a smile and handed her creation to Claire. The phone rang. Claire set the piece down on the counter and answered.

  “Hello?”

  Claire listened for a while. She let a big sigh out as she closed her eyes and pinched between her eyebrows. Her shoulders seemed to draw up closer to her ears.

  “Yes, I understand. I can be there in ten minutes.”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Elsa. “Is it Mum?”

  “No,” said Claire. With another sigh, she wrote a note that said Gone For Lunch on a piece of paper. “It’s Gran,” she said flatly.

  “I can stay and watch the store if you want,” offered Elsa, trying to be of help. She knew that Gran could be as big a handful as Dana sometimes.