One crisp winter morning, as they were waiting for the cats to finish eating, Agnes turned to Dorian and asked "What ever became of your brother Calvin?"
"Oh him," replied Dorian, pensively, "He lives at the Peacock House now."
"But why? Why not stay with family?" asked Agnes. "It makes no sense."
"Indeed," agreed Dorian. "Apparently he's become best friends with one of the peacocks."
"How peculiar, so unnatural," remarked Agnes, cocking her head to the side.
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The Peacock House was a rather ordinary villa surrounded by many tall trees and enclosed in a high white wall featuring pale blue arches and trim. It was a private oasis of palms and broadleafs in a rather drab suburban neighborhood. Even more extraordinary were the peacocks that lived there. There were six peacocks and two very reclusive peahens.
Often early in the morning or sometimes late in the afternoon, one of the peacocks would fly down from the wall and parade down the street, swaying and balancing, and if they truly felt like it, fanning out their feathers in full glorious display. They were gorgeous, magnificent, vain, and lonely.
Occasionally one of the peacocks would fly off and forage in the grass at the empty field nearby. This is where Calvin first met his best friend.
He was flying overhead and saw the peacock. It was the first time he had ever seen one. "You are so beautiful!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, but you fly so well and so high and I ... cannot." replied the peacock sadly. And that was the start of their long friendship.
Every day Calvin would fly to the peacock's garden and they would enjoy talking together, admiring each other, and doing other bird stuff. The humans never noticed. As Pervez was the largest, oldest peacock, none of the other peafowl said anything. Some wished they had their own crow friend to talk with. The other crows didn't care because they didn't know about it yet.
Eventually it was agreed that Calvin should move over to the Peacock House. Of course that meant that he should at least tell his family so they wouldn't worry. It was not easy. They thought it was weird but Calvin had the reputation of being an oddball anyway, so they said their goodbyes and reassured him that it was okay as long as he was happy. And he was.
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A "Murder" of Crows & Other Stories
Historia Corta"If men had wings and bore black feathers, few of them would be clever enough to be crows." -Henry Ward Beecher. These connected short stories are based on my observations of the crows which sometimes live in my yard, the outdoor cats which I fed t...
