VOLUME: UP ISSUE #11
BIRD IN THE HAT
A baby bird flew into my leg today.
It was clear and cold as I emerged onto the
street after a morning coffee at the Tailspin Tavern when what felt like
a small rock hit me just below the right knee. At first I saw a small
low flying bird dart across the street and alight on a fire escape there.
Then looking down I was alarmed to see on the ground next to my feet what
must have been its unfortunate sister or brother, a tiny gray creature
with ruffled feathers lying motionless on the ground.
I knelt down. Its tiny talons were clawed
awkwardly and its head was bent in such a way that I assumed its neck had
been broken in its inadvertent collision with me. What is going on
in the world that baby birds are darting around in the cold winter anyway?
I slowly reached out to stroke its tiny soft wing with a finger,
when suddenly it jumped to its feet and began wobbling around in panicked
circles, its head still bent wrongly, bobbing and flinching wildly.
I was also panicked. I wanted to help
it, to stop it from hurting itself more, to know if it was
beyond saving, and if not what the hell I could do to help.
I wanted to turn back the clock and readjust my exit by half a second,
so that the bird would miss my shin and life would be fine again for all
involved.
I took off my hat, laid it on the ground
on its side, then crouched over the bird and with the enclosed circle of
my arms guided the crazed little being into it. Then I folded the
brim together on itself to form a kind of closed pouch or purse.
At first I could feel the bird's continued panicked motions inside but
they soon stopped. Whether the darkness and warmth had calmed it
or it had died I did not know.
As I stood back up I looked over at the sibling
still on the fire escape across the way. It turned its head sideways,
fixing one tiny round eye accusingly upon me. We held there in silence
for a moment, then it swore at me in several sharp pointed chirps,
blinked twice and flew off.
Just then old Harry Neutron came rolling around
the corner in his horse and buggy taxi. He pulled on the reigns and
stopped just short of me.
"What are you doin' in the middle of the road,
lad?!"
"Thank God Harry, can you lift me over
to Velvet Grove and Vine?"
"I've got a fare here but I can come back."
"It's kind of an emergency, I've got
a hurt bird, can you possibly make a small detour?"
He fixed a sidelong, very suspicious gaze
on the hat, then on my anxious face. I suppose anyone would hesitate,
observing a frenzied man in the middle of the road outside the Tailspin
Tavern holding his folded hat up in front of him with both hands like a
purse. But finally he gestured with his thumb that I should hop on
the back (where there was a standing board and handle).
"I can take you far as Left Hook Road," he
said.
"Great, near enough," I said and climbed
aboard.
...to be continued...
-Thomas Truax, January 2002
THOMAS TRUAX LIVE SIDEWALK SERIES CONTINUES
I will be playing Wednesday at Sidewalk Cafe accompanied by my increasingly
proficient (yet still unsettlingly unpredictable)
motorized readymade: the Cadillac Convertible Beatspinner
Contraption. Special guest Erin Gillgannon will also drop in
for
some live percussion on a few numbers. Please join us if you
can! No cover.
Avenue A at 6th Street, NYC Wednesday, January 16th,
8 p.m. Sharp!
The Wowtown News is published sporadically and distributed free
of charge to local residents, distant relatives and friends.
Copyright 2002 by Thomas Truax