The Songless Hummingbird

Every town he performed tricks in all had one thing in common, a vast amount of crows.

No matter if he was so far North in the cold, or so deep into the desert, they followed. I had sketched the creatures many times, and I assume they were more than just mere birds.

Each of them had a distinct feature, from scars across their faces, multi-colored eyes, to chips in their beaks, and blindness.

The most common were the disfigured ones. The man they call Mister Locklear had something deeper going on, and I was dreadfully curious. My heart would nearly explode when he performed, for some reason the crows watched me more and more often the more I went.

“Charlotte? Dear, you look as white as a sheep.” My mother mumbled, was she embarrassed I wondered? To be seen watching what the townsfolk called heresy? The people around me look entranced. This place was riddled with hypocrites.

“How does Locklear do it Mother?” I gripped her hand, caging it between my gloved palms.

“I’m not sure, some say he is favored by God, others think he is working with the Devil.” Of course, how could they not? Making nature grow where it should not, making objects aflame with just a blink, making the towns people forget who he was. How come I was the only one who remembered him? How come the world forgot his name every day, but I did not?

The show was coming to an end, Locklear thanked us, and I watched as crows in the trees shifted. They all moved in sync, like they were satisfied. Locklear, however, did not look satisfied. His eyes became darker, more meaningless. The people wooed, and hollered as they left in mass quantities. My mother followed her friends, a few old divorced ladies. I stood, and watched him. His eyes draped over the crowd, before he looked at me, a hint of confusion in his face.

I walked to the stage, which was connected to his large carriage. I assumed whatever was the cause of his odd existence, was in that carriage. He stood, tall and lean, intimidating.

“I am curious Locklear, are you truly a gentleman as you look, or something more dark as the Crows imply?” He smirked, intrigued.

“I assure you young beauty, I am exactly what the most foolish man in the world thinks I am.” Odd he was, but more odd were his words.

“The Devil you are then?” I smiled at him.

Locklear cackled, deeply, salty like. He spun around, and simply snapped his fingers a few times. The crows suddenly howled in tune, and vanished into thin air.

“Charlotte. If I had a dime for everytime you called me that, I would have built us a castle.” Annoyance flared inside me, he was evasive. He only intended to be coy I was sure. I fetched the sketchbook from my satchel, and slid it across the stage. It collided with his shoes, polished and perfect. He looked at it, curiously, his hand brought the book to his face. He stood and flipped the pages, and I believe he knew I was close to figuring him out.

“They’re beautiful beings, I see you fancy them as well.”

“You’re wrong, I prefer Hummingbirds. I just noticed that anytime you come here, the Crows follow.”

He sighed, he threw the book back to me. Locklear walked down the stairs of the stage, and made his way to the opening in the treeline that showed a rocky pathway.

“You want to understand the Crows? Follow me.” He called out to me, as he began to walk down the pathway. I hurried, my long dress rendering me slower than he.

We walked alongside each other, his humming luring my ears. He was fascinating, beyond anyone I could ever imagine. He felt familiar, like I have always known his evasive nature, his cold but lovely face. The suit he wore was like any other, except for the handkerchief he had. Baby blue, with embroidered lavender flowers on it.

“You stare so intently, should I be flattered?” He teased, as he hooked our arms together.

“I never told you my name.” I realized we had never exchanged personal information before this.

“Oh, Hummingbird, that is a long, painful tale.”

He was so mesmerizing, had we met before? Have I forgotten him? Maybe I have, and this time he didn’t make me forget him. He had a small scar on the back of his neck, but why I knew that was not apparent to me. The way he tapped his feet when he was anxious, the way he loved the color lavender.

“You know me because the sketches keep your memory safe, they’re a reminder.” He sang, the sound of a waterfall sounded out through the trees.

“That doesn’t explain much Locklear, do you steal memories?” He giggled, helping me up a cascade of rocks.

“Only of my existence. Mostly, I just search, but it seems I have found what I’ve been searching for.”

We sat atop a large rock, its jagged edges hurt my skin, but the view atop the waterfall was worth a little pain.

“What have you been searching for?”

“My Hummingbird, Lady of Song.” He smiled, he almost glowed under the sunlight. He was talking about me, but I still was clueless as to why I was Hummingbird, or why he was so familiar.

“Why me? And who are you really? We’ve met before.” My hand clutched on his leg, I felt overwhelmed by the questions swirling in my mind.

“Even a messenger of death needs a little light in their life. Charlotte, we met centuries ago, when we were mere creatures.”

I would almost say he was being evasive just to be poetic, but I knew he was telling the truth in a way to make it easier to consume. He only continued to grin at me, and the more I observed his face, he reminded me of a crow, but one I saw a long time ago. How long ago was that I wonder. Vivid memories raced through my mind of who we were.

The Hummingbird who could not sing, and the Crow who refused to follow Death. We both were rejected by our kind, and so we found safety in one another.

“By God…I remember it all. Every life I lived.” I cried out.

“I have searched for you in every life, we were cursed for our love, to forever be Humans, to never fly again.”

Our wings were ripped from our souls, by the hands of a God. We had defied the way of things, but we have fought the punishment so well. He has lived the same life since then, letting people forget him, just to follow me in every life.

“Well, what do we do now? Marriage?”

“No, we have served our time, The God who damned us shall let us fly once more, together.” He grabbed my hand, and pulled me from the rock. We began to sprint, towards the waterfall.

“Jump with me!” Crow shouted, and so I nodded.

The second we reached the end of the water, the sound of water rapidly falling, and flowing buzzed in my ears. Our bodies jumped together, and for once I had no doubt who he was, he was Crow. Before I noticed, our bodies turned to feathers, our bones broken and reformed, and our wings sprouted from our backs. We had once again known freedom, and

we were never going to lose it again.