Queen of the Crows Page 11

  “Hello?” Claire answered.

  “Is this Elsa Doran’s emergency contact?”

  “Yes, it is,” said Claire with concern.

  “You will have to come pick her up from school immediately.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “She is behaving like a crow and she won’t stop.”

  Claire and Elsa burst out of the doors of the school. Both their brows were furrowed, lips tight. Elsa threw down her backpack at the car door.

  “Caw!” she shouted angrily at Claire.

  Claire sighed, her chest tight, shoulders high. She opened the car door. She had no time for this. “Get in,” she said with little patience.

  “Krrak!” bleated Elsa, thrusting out her neck and spreading her arms with ferocity to protest.

  Claire held her ground. She gave Elsa the same blank stare that Elsa usually doled out.

  Elsa harrumphed into the seat and threw down her backpack. Claire crossed to the driver’s seat, shaking her head with frustration. Elsa rolled down the window furiously with a pout.

  Inside the car, Claire steadied herself, trying to regain her even keel. “Elsa,” she appealed gently, “why are you doing this?”

  Elsa turned to look at her, with a birdlike flit of her head. Then she turned away again with the same dramatic gesture.

  Outside, some crows cawed in a distant tree. Elsa looked up at them imploringly and cawed twice with a pathetic tone, as if to say, Help. Save me!

  Claire rolled her eyes and they drove away.

  When they pulled up to the government building, Claire filled with agitation. She had been questioned and “assessed” in this very same place as a child.

  Elsa stared at her angrily.

  “You got us into this mess,” Claire said through gritted teeth. “You had better play along, for your own sake.”

  Elsa begrudgingly got out of the car and they walked in to present the sheet of paper the school had given them to the front desk.

  Dr. Whittle, the child psychiatrist, showed them into a small room. It was painted in pastel shades, with children’s drawings of rainbows and sunshine and families pinned all over the wall.

  Elsa scanned the room quietly. There was a low table with blank paper and markers. A creepy faceless doll sat on a comfy-looking chair.

  Dr. Whittle cast Claire a knowing look.

  “I’ll just be outside,” said Claire nervously to Elsa. Elsa nodded.

  Dr. Whittle was a tense bird of a woman. Elsa could tell she took great pride in being good at what she did. As she closed the door, Elsa sank down into the chair.

  She doesn’t even have a child, I bet.

  The doctor crouched down on the floor across the table from her with a forced smile.

  “Elsa?” She handed her a black marker. “Can you draw a picture for me?”

  There was that high-pitched baby voice again. Elsa sighed and took the marker, resigned to her fate. Having been handed a black marker, of course she began to draw a crow. As she added the crown, Dr. Whittle leaned in with great interest.

  They ate supper in silence. Claire seemed tired, peeved, and distracted. Elsa left a lot on her plate.

  Without taking it to the sink, or saying goodnight, Elsa went to her room to sulk.

  Lustre flew over the river in the cloak of darkness. Crows have poor night vision, so they avoid flying in true darkness. But he knew the river would be clear and he fumbled along by trust, carried by the wind. He felt comforted as he approached the glow of the city and the scattered lights of the park.

  He made his way to the lip of the Hollowing Tree while the rest of the group slept. He whispered every royal name he could remember from studying the ancient songs. Nothing worked.

  As he was about to give up, he felt a tickle at his foot. He snatched it firmly with his sharp beak and pulled, extracting a long, thick hair from between the splinters of wood. He flew up into the pink city light that reflected off the clouds. The hair was that unmistakeable shade of red. His eyes narrowed as he soared silently over the woods to set down atop the playground slide.

  If the girl and the queen and Cracks are all in there conspiring together, I must make my move now or all is lost.

  But what is my move?

  Lustre took shelter in the rocks by the shoreline. He squeezed himself between some big craggy boulders; he knew the crows would never think to find him there. A little bit scared he might be found by a gull, he stayed up late into the night, scheming his strategy.

  Having gone to bed so early, Elsa awoke before dawn. She grabbed her coat and crept silently out of the house.

  The stone was cold and damp as she sat down on the throne in the dark.

  It will be dramatic when they wake to find me here.

  She hoped they would not try to peck her to death. She had her sunglasses in her pocket just in case.

  She breathed, remembering the calm purple sky of the Hollowing to calm her nerves. The wind tickled at her face, reminding her she had its support.

  At first hint of light the crows began to stir in the roost. Careen had selected her favourite stand of trees by the court and had hardly slept at the excitement of having had the taste of power. The rest of the crows thought it had been the princess’s choice, of course, but she knew.

  The night before, Careen had been disappointed when Boughbend had simply flown up into the trees by the Hollowing Tree and everyone had followed. She was glad when he had ceded power back to the princess last night and the princess had flown to her right to signal she wanted her to make the choice.

  I hope the queen never comes back. Careen tingled to herself as sun peeked over the horizon.

  “News! I have news of your queen!” called Elsa.

  Careen sat up with a burst of shock. So did the rest of the group.

  Claire had had a fitful sleep. She lay awake early, fretting about everything. She rose to check on Elsa. She wasn’t on the couch or in her bed.

  Claire panicked. The authorities would be scrutinizing this household carefully. She needed to prove she could keep Elsa close and safe. After searching the house and yard, Claire ran down empty the street.

  “Elsa!” she called desperately.

  At the end of the street, Claire could hear the crows waking up in the park. She ran across the park road and passed the ball field.

  “Elsa!” she cried.

  “What’s this?” “The girl has returned!” “She sits on our throne?” “What news of the queen?” The crows flitted and shouted in a tizzy.

  “Let’s hear her out!” bellowed Boughbend.

  The crows quieted down. They had to admit they were curious.

  “Your queen loves you all very much,” said Elsa as nobly as she could. “She just needs some time and soon she will return to you.”

  “But why?” “Why did she leave us?” “She left us in danger!” “She abandoned us to the gull menace!” shouted many crows angrily from the trees.

  “She is looking out for everybody,” said Elsa, spreading her arms wide, “but you must find the generosity in your hearts to also let her take care of herself.”

  “But Berry!” “The gulls!” “We didn’t know what to do!” “We were forsaken!” erupted the chorus of crows.

  The crow chatter burst louder as Claire ran down the path. She scanned frantically through the criss-cross of bare, black branches. A pine bough scratched near her eye as she barrelled towards the din of the crows.

  Then she stopped.

  There in the distance was Elsa sitting on the rock by Dead Man’s Pond.

  “Caw! Caw! Caw!” called Elsa up to the crows in a loving tone.

  A flood of relief sank through Claire’s body. Then a flicker of anger coursed through her bones. She snuck up on Elsa quietly, from behind.

  “Caw! Caw!
Caw!” cooed Elsa up to the trees. She rose from the rock with arms spread and danced for the crows graciously.

  Claire snatched her arm firmly. “Elsa!” she uttered in a harsh whisper.

  Elsa looked shocked and then cowered slightly as if preparing to be hit.

  Claire’s anger melted.

  “Elsa,” she pleaded, “why are you doing this?”

  Elsa looked up at the thousands of crows that surrounded them.

  “They need a queen,” she said plainly.

  Claire felt all her breath release with the weight of that statement. She looked at this incredible girl and thought of all she had been through. Claire felt tears well up in her eyes, which she fought back.

  “Are you ready to go see your mum?” she asked, trying to sound as supportive as she could.

  Elsa gave a quiet little nod.

  “Okay,” said Claire, tenderly hooking her arm into Elsa’s. “Let’s hope she’s ready to see us.”

  They walked homewards together.

  Lustre had slept late, but the din awoke him. He listened to the crows’ chorus and smiled a cold smile.

  Now is my time.

  He snuck out from between the rocks and took lift. The wind supported him up as he soared powerfully high. He watched the red-haired girl, with a big human, walking away from the agitated group of crows.

  “DON’T BELIEVE HER LIES!” he boomed as he spiralled down onto the throne.

  “Huh?” breathed in the collective mass. They silenced, all eyes on him.

  His talons relished the click of the hard stone under his feet.

  I love the way this feels.

  The ward was stuffy and warm.

  “Hearts,” said Elsa, laying down a card to change the suit.

  Claire played a card from her hand. They both looked up at Dana, who slouched on the far side of the couch, lost in her thoughts.

  “Mum,” said Elsa softly, “it’s your turn.”

  Dana looked at her hand with disinterest and tossed a card down. It was a diamond.

  Elsa and Claire shared an uncomfortable look. Elsa played a diamond to keep the game going. Claire followed her lead. They looked at Dana, who was gnawing at her cuticles.

  “Mum?” asked Elsa gently.

  Dana sighed and chucked a card down without even looking at what it was. She let the rest of her hand fall face-side-up on the table. Claire smouldered at her. Elsa put her cards down sadly.

  A nurse arrived with a small plastic cup full of pills and a bigger cup of water. She placed them in front of Dana.

  With shaky hands, Dana quietly swallowed one pill at a time.

  Claire sighed and grabbed her coat. “Who wants to go for a walk?” She stood up, shot a pressing look at Dana, and began to head outside.

  Elsa picked up her coat and lingered, hoping to catch her mom’s eye. Dana looked at her quickly, but then looked away. Elsa followed Claire, hoping her mother would join them.

  It felt good to get out of the dreary feeling of the ward. The hospital was well placed, with peaceful grass and trees by the river. Elsa ran ahead of them as Dana shuffled with hunched shoulders and crossed arms. Claire ambled slowly at her sister’s side.

  “How’s she doing at school?” asked Dana at last, somewhat halfheartedly.

  “She really needs you, Dana.”

  “Claire.” Dana bristled as if she had been attacked. “I’m not…I just…” She shook and brooded, her face pinched with anguish. Finally, she turned Claire and trembled, almost with begging with fragile desperation, “I can’t.”

  “Mom, look!” called out Elsa from ahead on the grass. She had collected two branches and held them out like wings.

  Claire smiled warmly as Elsa danced in a circle, wings outstretched. Elsa’s face dropped a bit when she completed her turn and saw Dana was staring off in the distance instead.

  Can’t she even pull it together enough to give her a little something while we’re here? Claire broiled with anger, but then compassion took over. She feels too ashamed to look at her.

  “Can we go down by the water?” Elsa asked her mother, full of hope.

  Claire and Elsa waited for Dana’s reaction.

  “Mummy’s getting cold,” she said flatly and turned back for the hospital.

  Elsa and Claire followed, feeling disappointed.

  “I have been to the Hollowing Tree myself, and the girl is lying!” shouted Lustre.

  The group listened intently.

  “You have all been betrayed. The queen went there to take a secret meeting with the KING OF THE GULLS!”

  “Wuh?!” shrieked the group in shock.

  “She will return, telling you we must make peace with the gulls. But she is making an alliance with them! She is jeopardizing all that we have because she wants to have more birds to bring her shiny!” He flapped up from the throne to add emphasis, then landed again.

  “No!” “She wouldn’t!” “It can’t be!” they shouted.

  “Your queen has TURNED HER BACK ON US!” Lustre said with great relish.

  “What happened to your wing?” asked Boughbend flatly.

  Lustre looked down sorrowfully at his damaged plumage. Might as well make this horrible scar work for me. “I fought the king and his guards for you!”

  Many crows burst into cheers.

  It’s working, thought Lustre.

  “Now we must all fight to keep what is ours!” he commanded.

  The cheers grew louder.

  “The gulls will wait until we are all lulled by peace, then they will attack our young while we sleep!” Lustre flapped his wings vigorously, proud of the gap in his feathers now.

  “Never!” “We must get to them first!” “They hate us for what we have!” The shouts continued to escalate from the trees.

  “We must rid this park of HER AND HER HORRID GULLS ONCE AND FOR ALL!”

  Some cheered voraciously. Others fell quiet. It was hard for them to contemplate turning on their queen.

  Elsa crashed out the front doors of the sad old building. She thumped quickly down the stairs and turned back to Claire with a smouldering look.

  “She’s not coming home soon, is she?” Elsa’s eyes burrowed angrily into Claire for answers.

  Claire didn’t have any. “I don’t know,” she mumbled helplessly.

  They drove in silence to the government building.

  After the preliminary consultation, the child psychiatrist had asked that they return for a more detailed analysis. Claire didn’t like the sound of that, but had complied begrudgingly.

  She fretted as she waited in the office, staring at all the diplomas on the wall. Elsa was with Dr. Whittle in the other room. It seemed to be taking a long time.

  At last the door opened.

  “Elsa,” said Dr. Whittle, “I’d like to speak to Claire for a bit.”

  Dr. Whittle stepped into the office, closing the door. Elsa moved quietly to the door and bent down to put her ear to the crack at the bottom to eavesdrop.

  “Psychotic!” exclaimed Claire incredulously.

  “In the schizophrenic spectrum,” said Dr. Whittle matter-of-factly as she wrote down a list of medications.

  “She’s a little girl!” protested Claire.

  The doctor looked up from her prescription paper. “She thinks she’s the queen of the crows, Claire,” she said in a condescending tone.

  “She’s just trying to cope!” pleaded Claire.

  Dr. Whittle finished her list and sat up with an air of authority. “Given your family history, I think it’s best to start medications immediately.” She pushed the paper across the desk curtly.

  Claire’s blood boiled, but she took the paper quietly.

  Elsa feigned ignorance on the drive back. Claire seemed very troubled. She said nothing.
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  I hope she’s not taking me back to school.

  Elsa did not look forward to facing the mean girls and everyone else with so much on her mind. She relaxed a bit when Claire turned towards the house.

  As they pulled up, Claire paused in the driver’s seat.

  “You’ll have to go to school tomorrow, but why don’t you take the rest of today off?”

  Elsa nodded gratefully.

  “I’ve got so much work to do. And I’ve been keeping such erratic store hours lately. It’s really not great for business. You can come to the shop, if you want.”

  Elsa didn’t really want to, and Claire could sense it.

  “Do you mind hanging out here by yourself?” asked Claire apologetically, looking so frail and tired.

  “No. I’d like to, actually,” said Elsa. “I promise to stay put,” she added.

  Claire gave a little appreciative smile. “Do you think you can make your dinner, too? I might be late.”

  “No problem,” said Elsa cheerily, trying to lighten Claire’s load.

  “Call me immediately if any social worker shows up. Better yet, just don’t answer the door for anyone.”

  “Okay,” said Elsa with assurance as she got out of the car.

  “Okay,” said Claire, looking a bit relieved. She paused, sitting in the car, looking like she was going to say something. Elsa lingered, waiting for the bomb to drop. But Claire just looked uncomfortable for a moment, then gave an awkward little smile and wave and pulled away.

  We are such a hassle for her. Claire probably wishes she could be rid of us all.

  Claire drove down the road, kicking herself for not saying “I love you.”

  There was much discussion during the day’s dispersion. Crows clustered together in groups whispering amongst themselves.

  “We could easily take out the gulls if we work together,” boasted Wrapper.

  “But what if the gulls of the park teamed up with the gulls of other shorelines?” asked Popcan.