Cleaners

– Felix

Felix zipped and darted through air fragrant with the tang of salt. Air that had never felt so good, so sweet, so supportive of flight.

Amelia.

A southerly tickled his wings, hardly even stirring his feathers, but his hindbrain made subtle adjustments to compensate.

Amelia.

His drop was surprisingly graceful as he kept lower than the hills that blocked airflow.

Amelia.

He’d sunk into thicker air, still and filled with the subtle smells of the heat shimmers rising from concrete and tar.

Amelia.

Maybe another try in a tailwind wouldn’t hurt? His flight wobbled. Maybe the other birds were right when they said practice makes perfect?

With a careful glance at the sun, and only a tiny wobble, he calculated its angle (2:45pm, perfect), re-checked, (now 2:48pm but still perfect) and flapped awkwardly to try to gain height. As soon as his feathers stirred in the breeze again, he allowed his magnetite to pull him north, bracing himself for the re-do. The tickle became a rush. His breath came in gasps. The rush flipped his tail over his head, driving him down, beak first, neck twisting. His mind locked in fear. His terrain alarm sounded, screeching at him to pull up, but the relentless wind wouldn’t let him, driving him further down, the ground hurtling towards him. Even if he had time to calculate a new flight path, he couldn’t move his beak to do it. The high-pitched screech of near-death started, although it was strangely muffled. His ears popped. He closed his eyes and thought of…Officer Friendly.

Why did he want me to do it?

The screeching stopped.

Did Ms put him up to it?

His terrain alarm stopped. The rush of wind faded.

And is this the pain he meant?

Aching muscles relaxed. Feathers slipped back into place.

“Look out!”

Felix opened his eyes to see a tree looming in front of him. Without thinking, he spread his wings and extended his legs, catching an outspread branch smoothly in his claws. He didn’t know it now, but it would be the last he thought of Officer Friendly again for a long time.

“What kind of idiot bird flies around with his eyes closed?!”

He swayed for a better grip on the branch. Fumbled it, tried again, swayed again, nearly fell off. Slowly, slowly the branch beneath him stabilized. He checked the sun—only half a minute had elapsed. Finally, with a quick preen to soothe his ego, he looked around for the owner of the voice.

“Down here,” it called.

A pair of crows stood in the middle of the road, a pile of feathers between them and a smell the colour of death wrapping around them.

“Do I know you?” Felix asked, wrinkling his beak as the smell intensified and the colour darkened.

“I doubt—” the cock looked back to his stinking work “—that you’ve had need of our services before. Although I can see it would pay to stay close to you.”

“What services? What are you doing?”

“Besides saving you?” the crow asked. “Just our job.”

“Which is?”

He stopped what he was doing. “Are you kidding me?” He turned towards his hen. “Hey Sacred, tell me he’s kidding me.”

“Uh-uh,” the hen shook her head. “I’m busy on look-out. Can’t be distracted.”

Felix frowned. “What’s wrong with my question?”

The cock rolled his head and went back to work.

Felix looked from cock to hen and back. They ignored him. He fluttered down, moving as close as the smell allowed. There really were a lot of feathers. Kookaburra if he was not mistaken.

“Oh,” he put it all together. “Oh,” he said in a more sombre tone. He turned away, trying to think of something to fill the growing silence, but all he could come up with was, “and I always thought you guys just cleaned up after nestlings…”

“Death,” the crow said in a voice filled with a concern that clearly had a vested interest. “It happens to all of us eventually.”

“Well. Somebird has to bury the dead, I guess,” Felix acknowledged.

The crows exchanged glances.

“Errr…yeah.” The one called Sacred chuckled. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Felix frowned. He opened his beak to ask again, but decided now was as good a time as any to try thinking before he spoke. He closed it again.

The crow kept working.

Sacred kept guarding.

Felix kept thinking.

A cascade of silences rippled outwards until Sacred broke them. “What were you daydreaming about?”

“Daydreaming? I’m not daydreaming. I’m thinking.”

“I said were. You dropped like a stone, screaming. Then, when it looked like we were getting two-for-the-price-of-one, you suddenly did a beautiful tailwind-glide. And nearly got hit by a car—you’re welcome by the way—but that’s to be expected in a blackspot. So what happened?”

Felix glanced at the pile of feathers again.

“Don’t worry about Gabba,” she said.

“Who’s…oh…”

“So,” Sacred changed tack. “What’s her name?”

“Whose name? I mean, what makes you think I was thinking about a henling? I mean—”

“No cock drops out of the sky for anything less.”

“Well…I guess there might be one…” Felix admitted.

“I knew it!” she turned to her partner. “Pay up, Charming. We’ve got you wrapped around our secondary coverts, and that’s the truth.”

“Thought you couldn’t be distracted?” Charming muttered, but winged something over to her anyway. Felix couldn’t see it, and after thinking about it, decided he didn’t really want to either.

“So,” Sacred said through a beakful of stench. “I heard it was date day today. How’d it go?”

“What—how—you knew about date day but I didn’t?!”

“Pfft,” she scoffed. “You mudlarks make such a big deal about everything, with your duets, your big This day and your big That day. But the truth is, everybird loves a catered party, so we keep track. Anyway, our daughter’s dating one of your kind, so we’ve got your lot covered.”

Felix frowned again. “Why do you care?”

She shrugged. “For cleaning of course.”

Charming continued his roadwork.

The nearby traffic lights turned green. The three of them lifted to the sky, fluttering back as soon as the stream of apemobiles passed over the carcass.

“So come on,” Sacred continued. “Tell me. How’d it go? Or would you rather forget all about it?”

Felix puffed up. “I think she’s impressed.”

“What’d you give her?”

“Give her?”

“For date day present.”

“I…” Oh hawk. “I didn’t know we…”

“Oh, it’s only a practice run, sure. But us hens all talk, and if you want to stand out from the flock and all…” Sacred said.

“Oh. Well, I was thinking of being a bit more…” he scratched himself as he thought for a word. “Subtle. I mean…you know…make her want more next time, give her something to look forward to.” Felix relaxed as he warmed into his new truth. “You know,” he said with a casual wave of a wing. “I don’t want her to fall for me all in one go. A little ‘playing challenging to obtain’ is in order here, don’t you think? I call it my ‘treat ‘em indifferent and keep ‘em interested’ philosophy.”

“Well listen to that,” Charming said. “Date day, and already he’s an expert.”

“His ideas just roll so naturally off the tongue, too,” Sacred added.