Why Didn't They Fly?

The irony of doves doing a swan dive into the asphalt of the parking lot. Because, you know they’re doves. Their bodies slammed into the asphalt, some exploding, others crumpling is distortion. The ones that looked perfectly fine except for the puddle of blood that slowly spread outward. Those were the most interesting. It looked like the blood was trying to escape. Really quickly too. Like when you’re running to the meter to drop another quarter in before the meter cop, who is steps away and has his hand on the ticket pad like a gunslinger reaching for a gun,writes a ticket. The blood spreading was more interesting than the rest because it invited speculation. The exploded bodies and the crumpled bodies signaled finality. There was no action. It was gruesome and sad but also seemed done. No saving to be done. Still. Final. But the spreading blood. There was movement there. And seems where there is movement there is the possibility of hope. In most cases

Up until this point it had been a beautiful ceremony. Beautiful winter wedding. The wedding party was in shades of gray, blush peach and navy. Everyone looked sophisticated and chic. The chapel was old, quaint and elegantly appointed for a small intimate wedding. Which it was. Because the bride wanted to keep it simple and drama free. You know, nothing brings out drama like weddings and funerals. Odd that two extremes would evoke the same emotional dramas. This bride wasn’t having it though. She actually believed what most claim is true and say is so. The wedding day is all about the bride. She had done a whole lot to make it so. She said from the start that event would be drama free. She did everything she could to that end. Quelled arguments among bridesmaids, soothed the ruffled feathers of family members, came down like a hawk that just spotted a rabbit in the field, on anyone who didn’t follow her instructions. Bridzilla for sure.

Maybe she did too much on her own. There are so many things big and little in planning a wedding. Decorations, ice sculptures, the perfect hor ‘d orderves, signature cocktails they’re often the centerpieces of the event. They capture the eye and the fancy of the crowd. But a cell phone with a dead battery, a missed text message…they can become a centerpiece of an event, usually a drama laden disaster. We’re talking about the latter here,

The helicopter dipped suddenly and then, It dipped again, deeper this time. The door to the chopper opened. The cage teetered for a few moments like it hadn’t quite decided to take the plunge. After a few moments it did, You could see the doves panic. The tips of their wings darted in and out the holes in the screen of the crate and feathers started flying out. Lots of them. They formed a billowy, feathery macabre jet stream behind the cage. The crate continued it’s tumbling descent in a sort of hypnotic, horrifying rhythm when suddenly the door to the cage flew open. Doves everywhere. They couldn’t right themselves though. They flapped their wings furiously trying to stop the impending face plant into the asphalt below. Desperately trying to change the course and cancel their date with impending death Their wings were flapping furiously and they were not cooing but making some sort of strange garbled sound that was a cross between a shriek and a tweet. Thia sound was soon replaced by another. The sound of them hitting the asphalt and the screams of the guests as they frantically scurried about trying to avoid being struck by the birds. Most were successful. Those that weren’t suffered a few gouges to hands and back. That was from running with their heads down, trying to protect themselves with their hands. No one was hospitalized. Traumatized though. For sure traumatized.

It was supposed to be a happy time. A celebration. The witness of lives beginning. Good food, friends and fun. And the foundation of all this goodness was to be the beautiful, carefully thought out organized wedding ceremony that was to be punctuated by the release of seven white doves over the happy couple as they stood in the doorway of a quaint, simply but elegantly adorned chapel. The most dramatic element of the whole service was the releasing of seven white doves.

But the drama gods had other ideas. The devils in the details. And he came to play. So while the bride had seen to every detail of the wedding and reception on the big day she left her phone at home. With the number to the chopper service in it. The chopper service only had the bride's number. So when he called to say he thought it might be a little too windy to release doves, he waited until the last minute, hoping for a call back. When he didn’t get it he loaded the doves in the cage and took off. 

The chopper went back to his base. There wasn’t enough room to land in the parking lot. That was never the plan anyway. He continued to call the bride. 

Someone called Animal Control who sent out the roadkill crew to clean up the mess. The dazed and horrified guests composed themselves and slowly made their way to the wedding reception. Some went home. Understandably. Upon entering the hall they converged, mob-like onto the bar. Tips were good that night for the bartender.

The clean up crew looked around them. The birds were all dead. They expressed relief. It would be easier to clean up. They called dispatch and requested a water truck to rinse down the parking lot. One of them stopped a guest as he was getting into his car to ask what happened. He told him and the two parted ways, both shaking their heads as they left. He relayed the story to the rest of the crew. “It was supposed to be a simple thing, elegant and poetic and instead it was, well that was”…then one of the crew members blurted out “Well that was dramatic’.