Starling Prindle is trapped on the fourth floor of a parking garage in downtown Baltimore. He is inundated with thoughts of six cats lying dead with orange ribbons tied around their necks. Hours earlier, his wife strangled the cats to show her irrit...
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The door to our room was open, and Crow was sitting by the table. He was angry with me. The roses were on the other chair and the beds were made.
"Where've you been, Starling?"
out.
"Out? You mean out like in 'not in' or out like in 'not safe' or out like in—"
out. just out on the beach. leave me alone, Crow.
He shook his head like he didn't believe me.
I was out walking, that's all.
"For four hours? You were just walking on the beach for four hours?"
it doesn't matter what I was doing, Crow, because we're leaving now and we have to hurry.
"To where?"
I told him we were going home to Baltimore and that we had to leave soon. He started tugging on my sleeve. First gently and then very hard.
"We don't have to leave. You know that, Starling. We can still stay here."
I shook my head and told him we had to go and that we to go right away.
"Starling, that's not true. We really can stay, if you want. Or we can go to Ocracoke or Manteo or Salvo or Waves. We can even go to that big peanut in Georgia. We can live right under the peanut if you want."
I told him again that it was too late and that we had to hurry, but he wouldn't listen to me.
"You could just tell Ril that the drawbridge was out and that we had to stay for a while. You can say anything you want, Starlin. And we can go anywhere we want."
He kept telling me places where we could go like Dallas and Egypt. For a while, it almost made sense because I had always wanted to see those places. I had never been to either of them and I really wanted to go, but they were thousands of miles away and the other side of the world.
we can't go there, Crow. it's too late to go anywhere but home.
"But Starlin', you can't keep going back."
He was wrong about that. He didn't understand what had happened. He didn't know that the shark was dead and that the woman's lips were the wrong color. But most of all, no one else knew all the stories (your stories and mine) because no one else was there.
Then Crow listed a thousand reasons why we should stay. Finally, I slapped my hand so hard on the table that the roses hopped in the air.
stop it, Crow! I don't want to talk about it anymore. we have to go home.
Instantly, his face got sad. But he was quiet at last. Both of us were.
The whole time we were talking, I had been fiddling with what was left of the daffodil stem. Rolling and unrolling it like a coiled spring. When I got up to leave, the spring began to unwrap itself in slow motion. Untwisting itself like a contortionist. Dislocating its joints in an effort to escape.
When Crow saw me stand, he jumped up and rushed toward door. He started to say something, but then he just ran toward the ocean. Shouting.
"It's not too late, Starling! It's not too late!"
I started to keep up with him but every part of my body hurt. Before I was out of the parking lot, he was already over the ridge and out of sight. I followed his footprints for a while. They led down to the beach to the water's edge near where the fisherman had killed the shark. The ocean hadn't yet erased the evidence, so there was still a bloody mess on the spot.
I looked everywhere, but Crow was nowhere in sight. In the distance, I saw a piece of tire tread that had washed onto the beach. It was just the outside of a tire. Just half a circle. Maybe more. Just three-fifths of nothing. At first, I thought the dead shark had come back, but as I got closer I could see what it was. From somewhere among the small dunes that lined the beach, I heard Crow's voice.
"The cats are over here, Starling. We're all over here. All here. All here."
He went on and on until his voice began to get raspy. Each time he spoke, I pictured our cats piled on the bed together. Orange ribbons tied neatly around their necks. I wanted to do something when I saw them, but I didn't. I just left the house. I just left the cats on the bed without knowing whether they were alive or dead.
"It's not your fault, Starling. It isn't. It never was. I was going to jump all along."
Those were Crow's last words to me.
I searched the hidden areas of the dunes, but Crow was always a step ahead. He was gone. Gone forever. Gone like the pirates who had hidden there for years undetected. His words echoed in my ears, getting raspier and raspier like the thousands of voices trapped in the waves. Voices calling out to people on the beach. Go. Stay. Come Leave. White. Black. Purple. Red. Yellow. Orange. Each voice interrupting the others.
okay, Crow. everything is okay. you can stay here. this is your home now. it's all okay. everything is okay again.
Then the waves crashed DO-RE-MI onto the beach. Voices calling me or telling me. Pushing me or pulling me. Holding me or letting me finally leave. I could never be sure which it was until I saw you again.
