Every word came out slowly, like he had to think each one out first carefully before speaking. “Your.. face.. tells… me… you… think… I… am… a … freak, a… freak… of… nature… maybe just… stupid.” He was mostly right, of course. He had read my face right. I was in desperate need of a ‘public interest’ story for our weekly local paper. I had heard about this guy, actually overheard in a bar, from some old-timers talking about ‘Harris the freak.’ These are desperate times for journalists. I have to follow every lead I can find. I bought the old guys each a beer, This is what I learned.
Harris went to kindergarten and grade one with them, but after that he had been taken out of school. He spoke very slowly, and he did not learn how to read or write. He lived with his parents in their home in the wooded countryside for the rest of their lives. After they died, he had stayed with his brother for a short time, before he was put in the home.
During the extent of his 72 years, stories had emerged of his being able to talk to and understand the ‘talk’ of birds, squirrels, chipmunks, and other, larger, woodland creatures. Of course these stories did not come with much respect, more joking and ridiculing. He was known to be a ‘freak’ after all.
Meeting Harris
When I entered ‘the home’ and said that I had an appointment to meet Harris, I got ‘a look’ from the receptionist. Still, she directed someone to lead me to his room. That is when he greeted me with his suspicions. I told him that I was interested in his story, and that I did not think that he was a ‘freak.’
His response was, “I… can’t… tell… you… my… story. I… will… show… you.” We then proceeded to go out the back door and into the woods behind the home. He looked up into the trees, and pointed to a bright red bird on a high branch, obviously a male cardinal. He then made a sound, a bird call, that was clear and distinct. In response, the bird began to call back, but with a somewhat different sound. And then he (the bird) began to dance.
Harris laughed, and said, “He… thinks… I… am… a… girl… cardinal.” I understood.
“Now…you.” He made the sound again, and again, so I could learn to imitate him. It took me a while, and much trial and error, but eventually I got it close to right, close enough that the cardinal was still dancing and calling when I was the only one ‘talking’ to him.
For the next while we went through this whole process again with birds of several other species. I was hungry, so I asked him if he was too. Harris nodded his head. So we went back to the big building, and straight to the cafeteria. I had smelled bacon when I first walked into the place, drooling somewhat as I had skipped breakfast, and saw that bacon sandwiches were on the lunch menu. I asked Harris whether he wanted a bacon sandwich’ He nodded his head vigorously, and drew circles on his stomach with his right hand. So I ordered and paid for a pair of sandwiches for both of us. The two of us were anxious to go back into the woods, so we headed out on our expedition, sandwiches in hand.
Before long we were deep in the woods again. I had mentioned squirrel sounds to him. So he was going to show me their reaction to the nagging squirrel call that warns other squirrels that there is a predator in the area, and signifies to the predator that its presence is known.
We decided that we would first eat our bacon sandwiches, before there was any more messaging. As it turned out, this would be a dangerous decision.
Talking with a Bear
I had been quite hungry, so I finished my sandwiches in less that a minute. It wasn’t long after I had finished them that I heard a snorting, accompanied by a crashing sound. It became clear that a bear had sniffed out our bacon sandwiches, and was moving rather rapidly to share in our feast. To my surprise, Harris moved quicky away and hid behind a massive oak tree. I was left alone to face the bear. I was in trouble. I could not get rid of the smell of the bacon on my hands and pants, and there were no trees nearby that I could climb.
Then I heard another sound. This was something like the sound the bear had made but it was ‘squeakier’ somehow. The bear turned its head sharply towards the tree where Harris was hiding. I knew now that Harris was making the sound that had distracted the bear, the sound I now suspected was that of a bear cub. I thought of running away and saving myself, but remembered how I felt when I thought that Harris had abandoned me. Still, I had no idea what I could do to be helpful.
When the bear arrived at the oak, different sounds were heard. It was like there was a conversation going on between the bear and Harris, each one firing quick communication to the other. Then the bear suddenly headed off to the left of the oak.
Harris then came from behind the tree, and ran in my direction. He made a shooing motion with his hands, and we headed away as fast as we both could travel.
Safe Back at The Home
We made it safely back to the home. After we entered, caught our breath, and sat down in two comfy chairs, I had to ask him what I was dying to know.
“What did you say to the bear? What did you say to him?”
Harris’s reply was spoken a little less slowly than before. “The.. bear.. was.. not.. a.. him.. It.. was.. a.. her. I.. knew.. that.. from.. her.. voice. I.. made.. the.. sound.. of.. a.. cub. Before.. she.. saw.. me.. I.. threw.. my.. sandwich.. far. Then.. I.. told.. her.. where.. the.. food.. was. She.. liked.. that.. I.. had.. found.. food.. for.. her.”
It was then that I knew that I had more than just a story here. I had an opportunity to do some unique learning that could make me wiser in the woods. But first I had some questions to ask Harris. How did he know how to say what he said, how to understand what she said? How did he manage to get close enough to bears to learn their ‘talking’ without getting seriously injured? Would zoo bears understand such communication?
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments