The Birds

I don't watch them anymore, because my wife hates them, but I have always liked scary movies. Turn down the lights. Watch some crazy situation get made worst by bad decision making. Then music that grabs your subconscious and you know something dramatic is going to happen. Scream. Then you look at the person beside you on the couch, just to be sure they are more terrified than you are. There is something fantastic about fear in the faces of your friends and family. Yes, I have been told I am sick because of this.

Sometimes, though, letting the movie do its work is not enough. Sometimes, you need to bring a little of the movie into the real world.

We sat on the couch watching the Alfred Hitchcock movie The Birds. It was a classic, my dad had said, and he had deemed it a reasonably safe movie for us to watch. Justin and I, of course, we're there, but in addition our cousins were on there summer visit with us.

Bonnie and Patricia were always targets to mess with, a subtle word about the ghost in their room, a mention of how chocolate chips were made out of octopus eyeballs, a certain look when they eat something, which makes them uncertain about what it was they had done. Now, these girls who seemed to fall for everything, sat beside us soaking in the images of rows of blackbirds ready to do harm to the people below. They sat tense, sometimes looking away. I checked the room for something bird like.

My dad always carried cloth handkerchiefs, like the kind that are used as bandanas on westerns. One of these had been left on the table beside his chair, a dark blue one. In the dim light from the TV, it almost looked black. Raven like. I slid off the couch and when looked at I said, I think I see something flapping outside the back door, the big sliding glass door not far away. Patricia and Bonnie looked at the door with some fear. Justin eyed me with suspicion. He would not be fooled, but he wouldn't ruin the fun either.

I walked to the glass, parted the blinds just a little and stare through them and into the dark backyard. "There is something moving," I said. "Maybe a lot of somethings.". I stepped back slowly and sat in my Dad's chair. "Have a look for yourself," I offered. Nobody moved. They watched the door, then the woman on the ground being pecked by birds, while I palmed the handkerchief and then tied it into a knot. I small body and broad wings.

Suddenly I acted like I could see something. I hopped out of the chair and went back to the glass. "Quit," Bonnie said, but their was no certainty in her voice. "Woah, it's coming right at me," I yelled. Then a fell back, tossing the cloth bird over my body and directly into the chest of my cousin. She screamed, jumping up to get away from the beast. I lost it. My laughs, though, let her in on what I had done. Which caused a chase, a fake bird getting whipped back and forth and finally, my dad coming from the front of the house and telling us to keep it down.