The Nature of Crows

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The Nature of Crows Page 2

by Duncan Wilson

After a few minutes, Joe found numerous references to a plethora of instances of the symbol, called a triskelion, throughout the world. Many of its uses, outside of national flags, were to symbolize life in its three stages, birth, living, and death. Even the tri-spiral on the id badge he still had was technically a triskelion The girl with the bald head next to him coughed loudly, annoying him. She seemed to be staring off into space at one of the windows, rather than at her half-finished game of solitaire. Turning back to his own research, Joe tried to find some authoritative academic book on the subject, but found nothing worthwhile. He did, however, find a dozen or so references to a Dr. Peter Veles who taught at a university here in the city.

  Noting down the directions to the professor's office on his notepad to avoid paying the extraneous printing fee to the library, Joe tried his best not to frown too much in disgust at the bald girl's youthful idleness as he got up to leave. He failed.

  Exiting the library, Joe looked to both sides and shuddered at the flock of crows pecking at breadcrumbs in the adjoining park to the left. Hailing a taxi, he was soon on his way to the professor's office. As he stared at the congested traffic out the window, Joe realized he should have probably called ahead to find out if the professor was even in and available to speak to at the moment. Adjusting his glasses for the first time that day, Joe looked through his notes to see if he had recorded the relevant phone number. He had not. Cursing, he sat back and unsuccessfully tried to take a nap in order to pass the time.

  When the cab arrived at the college building in question, Joe exited and almost got right back in. Inbetween him an the door was a small flock of crows. Now was the moment that he decided that this was getting a bit bizarre. Turning to seek refuge in the taxi, he found it had already departed, which was notably odd, as he had not heard it drive off. Turning back around, he found that the crows had also taken flight, in a more literal sense. Shaking slightly, Joe entered the building and set about locating the office of the professor as quickly as he could.

  Happening upon the open door of the small cramped room the university ludicrously labeled as an office, Joe knocked on the door-frame hesitantly. A small crashing sound emanated from within the room, which was almost impossible to see into, as there were stacks of books all about giving cover for the occupant and his desk. Joe patiently waited as shuffling sounds continued to interrupt the otherwise silent hallway for a minute and a half before a deep but soft voice called out, "Hello?"

  Joe cleared his throat and asked, "Dr. Veles?"

  A head poked around a stack of books, threatening to topple it with the wind of the motion. The head was bald but wore several wrinkles and an ancient looking pair of spectacles. Dr. Veles replied, smiling, "Yes? You do not look like one of my students. How can I help you?"

  Joe replied, "I understand you are an expert on these kinds of symbols." He held up the sketch the crow had made for the professor to inspect.

  Peering at it for several milliseconds, the professor frowned and said, "Ah. You might wish to come in and have a seat then." With that, he disappeared around the stack of books.

  Joe followed the odd man into the maze of books to find a lone chair in front of a small worn desk and the professor sitting in his own behind it. Taking the proffered seat, he patiently waited for the academic to finish shuffling some papers around his desktop. Joe noticed a distinct lack of a computer or other modern contrivances in the place, just books and paper.

  Finally, as if with some reluctance, the studious professor turned to Joe and asked him with cold straightforwardness, "So, when exactly did you die?"

  Puzzled, Joe replied, "What do you mean? I'm not dead. I'm sitting right here."

  Looking over the top of his glasses at Joe as if to emphasize a point, Dr. Veles nodded, "Exactly. If you are sitting here, you are no longer on the mortal coil. The only ones who visit me are my students or the recently deceased."

  Joe's eyes tightened in alert suspicion. This man had to be insane, he thought. Adjusting his own glasses, Joe looked around frantically, as if for some sign that the man sitting before him was a recently escaped mental patient, or some such. Instead, what he noticed for the first time was the titles of the books stacked around him. Each book was an index for a year and a letter. The dates went back before recorded time. The closer the dates got to the present, the larger the volumes for each letter. Looking back at the professor, Joe saw that he had one of these massive tomes open in front of him to a page, his hand hovering with a pen above the end of a line. A line that began with Joe's name and date of birth.

  Startled, Joe leapt from the chair backwards, slamming into one of the stacks of books, sending them tumbling to the floor. Climbing over the pile of books, Joe scrambled into the hallway. Dr. Veles watched him silently from his desk. Joe started to run down the hall toward the door of the building. As he ran, he noticed a few things that had escaped his attention until then. The first thing he noticed was he was wearing glasses. He had not worn glasses since he had been thirty and had surgery to fix his eyes. He also noticed that as he ran, he was not breathing, and hadn't been for a while now. He also could not hear his heart, which disturbed him more than the breathing for some reason he could not explain. The second to last thing he noticed was that the hallway seemed to go on forever, fading into darkness with no door at the end. The last thing he noticed as the light faded out completely was the crows flying all about him, never touching him as they flew.

  _____

  As the light faded from Joe's eyes, the train's front wheel passed. The sound of the brakes screeching as they engaged pierced the night. The conductor had seen the body on the tracks far too late to do anything about it. A young woman, who had been screaming since a few moments before the train hit kept up her terrified wail until long after the train had come to a complete stop. Shortly afterward sirens filled the air amid the sound of the conductor retching. Above it all, the caw of a solitary crow as it took flight could be heard by all.

 


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