Pigeon

For the last six months, I had been subletting my apartment and toiling on a work-farm in Ohio. It was something my social worker arranged. The hours were long, but I stayed sober, and on the first of April, I returned to the city with some bucks in my pocket. I came back on a Greyhound; it was one o’clock in the morning, and as I stepped off the bus, my old friend, Yakov, was there to greet me.

“Good you are back, Royal. Neighborhood no same without you.”

“Thanks, Yakov, and thanks for coming out so late.”

The last stop on the bus route was a Wawa near Newark, and if not for Yakov, I don’t know what I would have done.

“I no sleep nights anyway,” he said.

I put my bags into the back of his old Lincoln Town Car, and we drove through the Holland Tunnel as I told Yakov all about Ohio, and Yakov told me the latest gossip about our neighbors, and described the general mood of the city.

“…also, I know many people who will not leave homes now for fear of Birdzilla.”

“What’s Birdzilla?”

“What, Royal, they have no newspapers in Ohio?”

“I didn’t see many. We’re supposed to be isolated so we can focus on recovery.”

“Well, I will tell you, research lab in New Jersey has been cloning pigeons for years. This is proven. But some say lab has received military funding to clone biggest pigeon possible, and yes, they have success. But now pigeon has escaped, and somewhere at large in greater New York area.”

I tried not to laugh but I couldn’t help it. I should mention, Yakov is 87 years old, an immigrant from Poland, and most of his news comes from supermarket tabloids.

“I hate to say this, Yakov, but you’ve become so old and gullible that you’ll believe anything.”

“Oh really, well tell me mister smarty pants. You believe, yes, Dolly sheep is clone, and yes, you believe deadly virus escaped lab in China to kill millions of people. Clone Wolly Mammoth? Yes. Clone extinct Dire wolf? Yes. But no, you will not believe giant pigeon escapes lab in New Jersey.”

“Maybe it’s not completely impossible, but unless it comes from a reputable news source, it probably didn’t happen.”

“But Royal! They do not wish to cause panic. And have you heard of the X-tube?”

“You mean You Tube?”

Again I laughed. I could tell that Yakov was getting mad, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Yes, I meant You Tube. Many videos of Birdzilla on You Tube.”

“What you fail to realize, Yakov, is that anybody can make a video about anything these days, but that doesn’t mean it actually happened.”

“Well then what…”

Before Yakov could complete his thoughts, he noticed something in the road ahead. And within a split second, he turned pale as his mouth fell open.

“Well then, what is that!”

He pointed forward and I couldn’t believe my eyes! An enormous pigeon was perched on the elevated tracks that crossed Tenth Ave. It was sixteen feet tall. It weighed more than an elephant, and as Yakov drove closer, I could see the purple-green iridescence about it’s neck, the crazed look in its pearly eyes, and when we were only a few blocks away, the monster twitched its head the way a regular pigeon might twitch before snatching something from the ground.

I was terrified.

“Don’t get any closer Yakov! It’s dangerous!”

“I’m sorry Royal, I must have better look.”

He continued to speed toward the overpass where the big bird was perched. At this hour we were nearly alone, and I could hardly breathe, wondering if I was going to die on this lonely street, attacked by a colossal pigeon. However, Yakov, slowed down for a red light, and I used this chance to make a run for it. I hopped out of the car, tripped on the curb, but in the next instant, I was up and dashing down the sidewalk away from the pigeon. After running twenty yards, I met with two black guys who were stepping out of a club, and I tried to save them.

“Don’t go any closer. It’s Birdzilla! He’s come!”

At first they laughed. They were big guys, well dressed, and carrying big leather cases, so I guess they were musicians, and when they saw how frightened I was, they tried to calm me.

“Take it easy, man. It ain’t real. It’s just a statue.”

“A statue?”

“Yeah, like art. It’s been there for months.”

I looked back and the bird was perched in stillness. And by now, Yakov, had parked the car and was stumbling toward me, pointing his finger, nearly doubled over and red-faced with laughter.

“It’s okay, Royal. I make funny April Fools’ joke.”

“What?” asked one of the musicians.

“I tell Royal, giant bird is real and has made escape from science laboratory. And he believes! He says: no don’t go closer! It’s dangerous!”

“But- but, I saw it move.”

When I said this, all three of them fell to pieces.

One of the musicians slapped his hands together and stumbled off sideways, with big lurching steps, as if he were going to collapse. The other guy laughed so hard he had to hold his belly. At one point he puts his arm around my shoulder, as if he was going to say something conciliatory, but he was laughing too hard. He tried to offer me a cigarette, but his hysterics caused him to shake, and he dropped the pack on the sidewalk and kept laughing while walking in circles.

I’d like to point out that this little prank of Yakov’s happened two hours after April fool’s day, so technically, it didn’t count. I’d also like to mention that this statue­­­ — which I now know was created by Ivan Argote and was installed in October — was extremely life like. Anybody who saw it would think it was real. Anybody who had been cloistered on a farm in Ohio and had been mislead, as Yakov had misled me, would have ran for their lives. So really, it wasn’t funny. But still, Yakov yucked it up with his new buddies, while I glowered in the passenger seat, growing impatient as I waited for Yakov to come back to the car, and finally Yakov returned wiping the tears from his eyes.

“You know, Royal, you must be getting old and gullible to fall for that!”

For a moment, it seemed as if his laughter had petered out, but now it renewed with fresh vigor. He slapped the dashboard. Eventually he managed to calm down and drive a few blocks, but he started laughing again and had to pull over. He got out of the car and told a complete stranger what had happened. He promised that he wouldn’t tell anybody else, but the next day he told our doorman. He told everybody in our building, so instead of saying, “Hey Royal, how was Ohio?” they all said, “Hey Royal, seen any big birds lately?”

When Yakov ran out of people to tell, he bought his very first computer so he could tell people online. He downloaded software so he could create videos of me running away from a giant pigeon. In truth, the incident might have been the best moment in Yakov’s life. He actually looked ten years younger. And now that time has passed, I wonder if I would do anything different. If I could go back in time and rob the old guy of his finest hour, would I still do it? And I’ve decided that yes I would, in a heartbeat, I wouldn’t think twice.