THE CROW

By Mary Ganson

            The crone stared down at the swaddled newborn, a black crow’s wing held in her claw-like hand.

            “Thy father’s armies have destroyed the wee folk’s homes in their forests,” she said.

“This crow was one of our folk shifting to her flying self to escape the devastation.  She could not!  This feather is all we found of her.  She was the beloved daughter of our sovereign.”

            Fixing a sharp, flinty eye on the woman holding the child, she rasped, “From this day, the first born daughter of thy family shall replace her whom we have lost!  Now and forever!”

            Penelope Arnsforth gazed at the old hag in horror, her babe held tightly in her arms.

            The old woman placed the feather over the child’s eyes.

            As Penelope screamed and her ladies-in-waiting came rushing to her side, the old woman vanished.

            The black feather slowly sank into the child’s face and disappeared.

***

            The bird was sitting in the walnut tree.  It’s beady, dark eye trained on the kitchen window.  It had been there since the sky had begun to brighten into day.  Its glossy feathers picked up colors from the sun.  Now emerald green – now sapphire blue with each movement.

            Inside the house, by the kitchen window the crow was intent on, a baby sat in her high chair.  Her mother was chattering nonsense to her about the baby’s breakfast.

            “Good ol’ poached eggs for Kitsy!” she cooed.

            Kitsy, who was really Kristen, was obediently opening her mouth and accepting the egg and cracker mixture her mother was spooning into her.  She wasn’t listening to her mother’s talk, however.  Her eyes were on the crow she could see through the glass.

            This same scene had been repeated daily for many days.

            Penny had begun to worry that Kristen was impaired in some way.  The wiggly, smiling little girl had turned into a solemn, inattentive child who stared out the window.

            “Jim,” Penny said to her husband that night,” Kristen never looks at me anymore!  She never smiles.  She won’t play!  All she does is stare out the window!”

            The man was out of the house most days before the sun came up.  He would sometimes return for lunch if he was close by, but most of the time it was dark before he got back.  He was the typical farmer, working long hours.  Since he often did not see his child until she was peacefully asleep in her crib, he felt sure his wife was just being a worrying mom.  He had often heard that first time moms were prone to worry about things because they were new to the experience.

            However, he was a patient man who loved the woman and child.

            “Well, Hon, maybe you should take our Kitsy to the Doc.”

            “ It will cost a lot of money, Jim.  Can we afford it?”

            “Can we afford to let this go if she really is sick, Pen?” Jim asked.

            They were sitting in the breakfast nook where they often ate.  The remains of their dinner were on the table.  Jim put his hand over Penny’s.  “Talk to the Doc at the clinic in town, Hon. She can tell you if we need to worry about the baby.”   

            The next morning Penny called and made an appointment to take Kristen in.  Luckily, there was an opening that day.

            The doctor gave Kristen a thorough exam.  She was pleased with the child’s growth and could not find anything to worry about.

            “She’s fine, Penelope,” the doctor said.  “I imagine this little one has just discovered that there’s a fascinating world out that window.  When the weather is fine, take her out there.  Let her see that tree close up.”

            Reassured, Penny drove home.  She hoped that Jim would make it home early enough to see the baby before she was put to bed.  It would be wonderful to tell him that she had worried for nothing.

            Kristen had been lively and laughing while they had been away.

            As she pulled the car into the driveway, Penny glanced at the back seat where Kristen had been strapped into her car seat.  The smiling face had been replaced by the familiar stare.  A shiver traced an icy finger up the woman’s spine.

            “We’re here, Baby,” Penny said cheerily to the child.  “Let me come around and get you out of there.”

            Hurrying around to open the back door, Penny reached in to unstrap her baby from the car seat.  It was empty.  A single feather lay in the seat.

            In the barn, the man heard the wrenching scream that tore from the woman’s throat.