Nerds and Crows

He didn’t promise anything.

That day, Rachel told me about her crazy dream, which was about a robot cop trying to get her to pull over, but her Volkswagen was stuck at 90 mph and she couldn’t slow down, so they ended up flying off a cliff and going into space. I listened with a blank face, which disappointed her.

“Oh, come on, that was awesome! Best dream ever.”

“Sorry, I’m really tired.” I apologized.

“So where is your boyfriend?” She asked me, looking to the empty couch.

I was startled that she remembered. “He went home.”

“By himself?!”

“No, I helped him home, silly.”

“Did you tell him to be sure to have his bandage changed soon? What about antibiotics and stuff?”

“He’ll be fine. He um... has family to take care of him.”

She looked at me with suspicious, narrow eyes. “Okay, but, did you find out who he was, or why he didn’t want to go to the hospital?”

I smiled and lied. “No. But his family was foreign, so perhaps they’re illegal or just don't trust hospitals. Thanks for helping him out, by the way.”

She shrugged. “No problem. But you owe me.”

“What do you want in return?’

Rachel grinned. “Cheesecake.”

I groaned. I hated making cheesecake.

“A large, golden cheesecake with the glazed fruit topping like you made last Easter. It is my price.”

“I’ll give you an ‘I owe you’ for now.” I plopped down on the couch, burying my face in the cushion. It smelled faintly like him. “Time to study! I said, getting up quickly and grabbing my shoulder bag from my room. “Want to go to the library with me?”

“Nope. I’ve got to go shower.” Rachel stretched again. "See ya later.”

I walked quickly to the library, using the same route we had taken the night before. There were students wandering around in scattered groups. The birds were unusually loud, chirping and squawking unmusically. As I walked by the parking lot, a crow flapped down to the pavement next to me. At first glance it was nothing unusual. At second glance, the bird was staring at me expectantly with one eye.

“I don’t have any food.” I informed it, but it still followed me for a ways, hopping and flapping to catch up. I veered away from the parking lot along with the sidewalk and entered the library. It was easy enough to shrug off; city birds get accustomed to being fed. As I was studying at a desk on the second floor, however, I happened to look out the window next to me, and there was a crow in the branches of a nearby tree, staring at me. It squawked something with its beak in the air, and another bird came to join it. Then they both turned their small, black heads sideways and stared at me (or at least the window) with their black eyes.

“Okay,” I muttered. “This is getting creepy.” It was a time to be grateful that I had never watched the movie Alfred Hitchcock made about birds. I moved to another desk, away from the window.

When studying became truly unbearable (a few hours later), I got a cookie from a vending machine. This would be my ammo against the creepy winged-rodents, my bait, even if the cookie was all they were after in the first place. Going out a different door than I came in, I glanced towards the skies. No birds yet. But had this simple trick lost them? Oh, no. Halfway home I could hear the cawing, and noisy chattering in the trees around me. Yesterday I would have thought it was just a loud day for birds, spring season, etc., but not today.

I believe I mentioned before that faeries like to take on different disguises, such as birds. But by now crows are almost a clichéd symbol of evil, magical disguises, and unnerving intelligence. They deserve this connotation, I think, because 1) they look really evil, and 2) they are really smart. They are good at problem solving, conspiring and communicating with each other, and they have excellent memories.

If a faery wanted to take on a subtle disguise, a crow is not the best of choices. A smaller, more common bird might be wiser, like a grackle, or a pigeon. You might not notice if a small bird was following you, but everyone notices the stare of the evil, black crow.  Faeries, however, are not perfect, and it was entirely possible that they were disguised as crows and following me for some reason.

As I neared my apartment building, I could see a crow again, flying from rooftop to tree to telephone pole, watching me. It might have already known where I lived, but just to be sure, I circled the block and abruptly hid under some bushes for a few minutes. It was a nice break from the warm sun, lying there in the shade.

“What are you doing?”

I looked up to see a lanky young man with thinning hair looking at me strangely while cleaning his glasses with the hem of his shirt.

I opened my mouth, but was at a loss. “Um...”

“You’re not hiding there, are you?”

“Yes, I am, and you’re giving away my position.”

“You should’ve picked a better hiding place, then. Who are you hiding from? Ex-boyfriend?”

“What?” I looked and realized that the brick building next to me was men’s housing. “No, no. It’s just a slight paranoia that I’m suffering from. Probably nothing to worry about. It’s fine.”

“If you’re worried, I can walk you home, for protection.” he pushed his glasses up his nose.

I looked at his skinny arms and bad posture, and my mouth twisted. If it was physical harm I was worried about...

“Hey, you’re laughing at my muscles, aren’t you?” he was offended.

“No, not at all --”

“Because I can handle myself in a fight. Just because I’m skinny, doesn’t mean I’m not built.”

“Um, yes it does --” I began.

“Look, I’m just trying to be nice. If you don’t need help, that’s fine.” He started to walk away.

I grimaced, thinking that his suggestion might actually be a good idea. Scrambling to my feet, I caught up with him. “Thanks for offering to help me.”

He shrugged, smiling (and pleased with himself). “Where to?”

I told him, and he did walk me home. Since no birds were seen following us, I offered him half of my vending machine cookie. He said he didn’t like chocolate. Upon further inquiry, I found out that his name was John, he was on his way to see one of my friends, and was an utterly exasperating nerd. But who am I to be calling names, since I hide under bushes from birds, and argue with total strangers? Not to mention that I own a cloak and a certain gold ring from a fantasy series, and have considered giving up my entire life to stay with a faery?