Greshmere Page 5

  So which of them were human/birds?

  It was time to start finding out.

  He scanned the park and chose the nearest large clearing as his destination. There would probably be a decent population of fowl around there and as good a place to start as any other. He stretched his legs, exercised his neck, flapped his wings a couple of times to loosen up and then leapt off the Essex House sign.

  He flew over a baseball diamond and a large range of trees before descending on the field. There were quite a few birds there looking for food. He stood for a moment, observing the activity. He saw a lot of pigeons, several robins and sparrows and an occasional finch. All of them seemed busy foraging for food, either worms and insects or discarded human litter: bread, chips and fries. It was at this moment that the light suddenly came on in his head.

  Human/birds have no appetite. They do not eat. Therefore they would not be searching for food. He surveyed the field as far as he could from his vantage point and realized that virtually all of the birds were pecking away looking for food. He would probably have better luck in the trees.

  He sprung off the ground and landed on the topmost branch of the tallest tree in the area so he could see more of the action. He spotted a female wren roosting on a branch of the same tree about twenty feet below him. He flew down and landed a couple of yards from her on the same branch. She glanced over at him without interest then looked away.

  Greshmere continued staring at her and made an attempt to greet her with his mind.

  “Hello, how are you this morning?” he thought, cheerfully enough.

  No response. She made no attempt to even look over at him.

  “Can you hear me?”

  Nothing. The wren was clueless.

  Realizing that this was a no-go, he started to take flight.

  “Yes, I hear you!” suddenly rang in his head.

  Her voice startled him and he jumped a foot. She was staring at him and he could swear she was laughing.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. Her voice had a thick southern accent and was low in register.

  Greshmere recovered and said, “You didn’t really scare me—you just sort of caught me off guard. I didn’t think you could hear me.”

  “I apologize for not speaking sooner. It’s just that I usually don’t talk to no strangers right away. I sometimes find it hard to make new friends, so I need to think things over a bit before committing myself to conversation.”

  “I understand, and I’m so sorry that I bothered you. I will leave you alone then.”

  “No, you might as well stay. You seem a nice enough soul and I would enjoy having a chat with you. It’s been a while, actually.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “No bother at all. So what’s your name?”

  “Greshmere.”

  “What a cute name! My name is Dreena.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Dreena.”

  “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that you be a newbie here.”

  “Yes, you could say that. Twenty-four hours and seventeen minutes new in fact,” Greshmere said, stunned that he actually knew the time to the minute. He flashed on what Shnarker had told him about the acute sense of time.

  “Good Lord, you are a newbie! So what do you think of this place so far?”

  “I’m really not sure how to answer that. I’m still trying to get used to the fact that I’m here in the first place, if you know what I mean, so it’s kind of too early to form any opinions.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, Greshmere. I can still recall my first day and I have a good idea of what you’re going through. It’s tough, especially at first. But don’t you get all discouraged, everything will be fine before you know it.”

  “That’s what Shnarker told me. I don’t really feel discouraged, just a bit confused and overwhelmed more than anything else.”

  “Uh-huh. It’s not exactly easy to be told that you’ve done died and come back to life and make any sense of it. You mentioned Shnarker—was he your Who-Key?”

  “My what?”

  “Who-Key, usually the first soul you meet in heaven.”

  “I guess he was then. He just never referred to himself as a, uh, Who-Key.”

  “They rarely do. Those old birds are a bit forgetful at times and I don’t think they remember half of what all they’re supposed to tell you. The younger ones are a little better with their scripts, you might say. How old was Shnarker?”

  “Around seven hundred.”

  “Yeah, that bird’s been around awhile for sure. My Who-Key was only three hundred and some.”

  “Why are they called Who-Keys?”

  “Not sure, but my guess is because they is the ones that give you your name, so they are sort of the ‘key’ to ‘who’ you are. Sorta makes sense I reckon, but that’s only a theory.”

  “I see. So how long have you been here, Dreena?”

  “A hundred and forty-eight years, one month and twelve days.”

  “Wow, that’s quite a while! So what was the world like when you first came?”

  “Not a very pretty sight, I can tell you. This country was in the midst of the Civil War. My guess is that I was somehow a casualty of that war, judging by the time period.”

  “But how do you know that you weren’t from somewhere else? Like Europe or South America?”

  “Honey child, now you tell me—do I sound like I came from any of those places? This accent is about as southern fried as it gets, so I’m pretty certain I was an American.”

  “I see what you mean. So are you saying that we speak the same way we spoke in our former lives? I mean, Shnarker sounded Irish and he was certain he was European.”

  “Yes, that’s true. Our voices are about the only personal remnant of our human existence that haven’t been lost or taken away.”

  Greshmere thought for a moment. “So where does my accent sound like it comes from, Dreena?”

  “You from the Midwest, boy, no doubt about that. American as apple pie.”

  This fascinated him. No wonder he felt so American! And now he had a vague idea of where he had come from.

  “Do you know any more about your former life, Dreena?”

  “You mean have I rediscovered myself?”

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “Lawdy no, boy! I ain’t crazy! Why in the world would I want to go back to the sort of life I had before?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Think about it. Listen to my voice and take a guess as to what I was in my former life, Greshmere. If you can put two and two together, you can figure it out.”

  It didn’t take Greshmere long to see what she was getting at, taking into account what the Civil War was about.

  “So you think you were a slave?”

  “No, I’m as sure as sure can be, boy! I don’t need no going back to my roots to discover that which I already know!”

  “But how can you be so sure?”

  “Let me let you in on something, Greshmere, seeing as you are new to all of this. It doesn’t take no genius to pick up on what’s goin’ down with a lot of these human folks you see around here. And the black folks are still misunderstood and spat upon for the most part, just like we was back then. Sure, they ain’t slaves no more, but they still be getting the shaft end of the stick most of the time. White folks acting like they care and what not. It’s all a big lie. I can relate to the black human folks’ pain just like it was my own. That’s how I’m so sure.”

  Greshmere was taken aback hearing her obvious negativity—he wasn’t sure how to react to it.

  “You sound bitter, Dreena. I don’t understand.”

  “I just be telling you the truth, that’s all. That don’t mean that I ain’t happy or wish any harm to nobody. Lord, there’s nothing we can do about the state of things anyway, even if we tried! I just wanted you to know what I’ve learned after observing the human folk all these years. Just for what it
’s worth, I guess you could say. Did your Who-Key tell you about sinnin’ here in heaven, Greshmere?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Well, let me just say that sinnin’ ain’t no option. None of us got a bad bone in our little bodies—we is as pure as the driven snow. That means that we’re not capable of lyin,’ stealin,’ killin’ and such. So I can’t hold no malice toward those humans that seem so awful since I know that’s just the way of their world. I am entitled to my opinion but I have no intent in acting upon things as far as human folks are concerned.”

  In a strange way, this was beginning to make some sense, Greshmere thought. Now he understood why Shnarker had wanted him to get on his own so soon and start experiencing things himself. Talking to Dreena had a way of clarifying things and putting them into some sort of perspective.

  “Who do you think is in charge of things here? I mean, I know that the obvious answer is God, but like, has anybody actually seen God?”

  “You got a lot to learn, boy—that’s for certain! But I’d be lying if I let on like I didn’t have those exact kinds of questions myself when I first got here. Things like why is this called heaven and who is God? All I can say is that you may never know for sure. You gonna eventually find there’s no reason to question why some things are the way they are. You just be wasting your time. Make the most of what you do know, Greshmere. That is what you need to do and what God wants you to do.”

  “How do you spend your time, Dreena? I realize there is no limit to what we can do but are there things that you find more gratifying than others?”

  “That a good question, Greshmere. I must say that I felt directionless when I first came here in spite of all there is to do. I was like a fish out of water! I suppose you probably feel that same way about now.”

  “I do. I don’t think I’ve wanted to admit it to myself but it’s true. I want to learn more about what’s going on but beyond that, I can’t think of anything in particular that I want to do.”

  “It will all come with time. Surely your Who-Key—Shnarker, was it? I’m sure that Shnarker told you something to the effect that heaven is what you make it, right? Well, that is the truest thing that’s been said about this place. It’s wide open—no boundaries, no limits. The world is your oyster, as they say. That’s also what can make it so hard to get on with your new life here. No humans have ever had this kind of freedom with so many options and nothing to stand in the way of doing what you want to do. It’s a craft we gotta learn. And that takes time, something we have plenty of now. Am I makin’ any sense, Greshmere?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t answer my question. You never told me what you do, Dreena.”

  “Lots of things. Mainly just watch life as it happens. I’ve been able to see the world change in so many ways through the years. I’ve seen lots of old things torn down and new things take their place. And through all of the changes, I still find myself asking the same old question: when will it ever end? When will humans start spending their time and energy on the things that really matter in this world?

  “There may not be no world much longer, Greshmere. This place has become a mess, just in the relatively short time I’ve been in it. Sometimes I feel like I will see the end finally come. Maybe not in the next ten years but maybe in the next fifty or hundred years. I sit here in this tree and think about how fast technology is messin’ everything up—making the humans alienated from one another and miserable while at the same time they think everything is getting so much better. The way the air is all fouled and global warming and such. It is sad, Greshmere. But not a thing can be done about it. Nothing we can do, at any rate.”

  “Do you have any friends?”

  “Yeah, I got friends. They’re scattered all over the place. When I first got here, I was in Savannah, Georgia. I moped around for weeks, made a few friends then decided to come north. I went to Pennsylvania for a while then headed west. I’ve been all over this country, and made plenty of friends along the way.”

  “You told me earlier that you found it hard to make new friends. What did you mean by that?”

  “Just what I said. I ain’t got nothing personal against making new friends but sometimes it can cause problems. So I find myself thinking twice before striking up a conversation with a stranger.”

  “What kind of problems?” Greshmere asked.

  “Let’s just say that problems is probably the wrong word. More like complications. That’s a better word for it. Some friends can cause complications.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I’ll explain it as best I can. Sometimes you get to be friends with somebody here and they start wanting to be with you more and more. There’s nothing wrong with that, mind you, but it can grow into something more than you want it to be.”

  “You mean like long term commitment?”

  “Something like that. Whatever you call it, there are some souls who don’t want to be involved in no extended companionship. I’m one of them. I don’t want to feel committed to nobody and feel like I have to be with them all of the time. It’s just not my nature, that’s all. Not so long ago, I met some soul who wanted more than I could give him. I tried to explain that I wasn’t interested and I could tell it hurt him. I felt so bad. Ever since then, I am keeping more to myself. I just feel that is the way it has to be for me.”

  “Whatever happened to him?”

  “We still be friends. He understood eventually and has since gotten over me, as they say. We are both much better for it now.”

  “Do you know of any groups of birds like us? I mean, like birds that don’t mind hanging out with one another and sticking together? Or doesn’t that ever happen?”

  “Oh it certainly happens, mind you. In fact I know a group here in the city that hang together just a little further up the park. Would you like to meet them?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  “Tell you what, Greshmere. I’ll go show you that group and introduce you to ’em. But from then on you’ll be on your own. No offense, but I’m just not into them groups. Fair enough?”

  “Sure. But why won’t you stick around?”

  “Like I said, it’s just not my style. You ready to go?”

  “Ready.”

  Dreena flew off and Greshmere followed close behind. She flew across the field, proceeded north over a patch of trees and over the Lake. She made a sudden dip to the east and landed near the perimeter of a fountain.

  “That’s Bethesda Fountain. They all usually hang out around here,” Dreena said. “Let’s go over there.”

  Greshmere followed Dreena around the fountain to the edge of the lake, flitting past a few early rising tourists. Dreena suddenly took to the air and landed on a stone wall near the water’s edge where a small bird that looked like a finch was perched. Greshmere flew over and joined her.

  “Here’s somebody I’d like you to meet, Fleitzer. Greshmere, this is Fleitzer.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Greshmere,” the finch said.

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “Greshmere just arrived yesterday and would like to meet the others if that’s okay with you, Fleitzer,” Dreena explained.

  “No problem at all, Greshmere! Will you be joining us, Dreena?”

  “Nah, I’ll just be moseying on. You take care now, you hear, Greshmere?”

  “Okay, Dreena. And thanks for everything.”

  “No problem,” she said and then took off.

  “So you’re a newbie, eh?” Fleitzer asked. The finch’s voice had a cheery, sing-songlike cadence, and Greshmere could already sense that he was a talker.

  “Yes.” He nodded.

  “Well, you have certainly come to the right place if you want to make some new friends, Greshmere! The rest of the group is over by the Boat House. There are six of us in all and I’m sure they will be thrilled to make your acquaintance. C’mon, follow me!”

  In a flash, the finch flitted off to the northeast and it took Greshmere all he had to keep up with
him. Within thirty seconds, they cleared the trees and the Boat House came into view. He followed Fleitzer over to where several boats were docked along the lake near the east side of the cafe. They alighted near a small group of birds perched on one of the bows of the boats. Greshmere identified two starlings, a red-winged blackbird, and a pair of pigeons. They eyed him curiously as he anxiously waited for Fleitzer to make the introductions.

  “Folks, this is Greshmere, a newcomer to our domain. He was referred to me by Dreena of all souls, and has expressed a desire to make some new friends. There on your left is Cleetus, our founding member.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” the starling said.

  “Next to him is Shike,” Fleitzer said.

  “Hi, Greshmere.”

  “Flarn and Zoley are our youngest members.”

  Both pigeons nodded in unison.

  “And finally, Hanzer.”

  “So nice to make your acquaintance,” the blackbird said.

  “So tell us, Greshmere. What do you think of heaven thus far?”

  “Like I told Dreena, it’s too early to say. I am certainly in awe, though—that much I can tell you.”

  “As we all are, indeed. Although we come from totally different backgrounds, I think it’s safe to say that we all share a common sense of wonderment and curiosity with regard to this place. This commonality is the foundation upon which our group has been founded, for the purpose of exploring and learning together. By sharing our observations and experiences we are better able to make sense of this special world in which we live. Throughout its existence, we have learned that there is power in numbers and that we have a built-in support group that we can rely upon whenever it is needed.”

  “Not to mention that we have lots of fun in the process!” Zoley added.

  “Yes, that is quite true, Zoley,” Fleitzer agreed.

  Cleetus said, “I began this group over seventy years ago, Greshmere, because I had trouble adjusting to my new role in life. I was reborn during the Second World War and quite certain that I had been one of its many casualties. My Who-Key, although he was very kind and helpful, was unable to fully convince me that this was heaven. I tried desperately to make sense of it all, but I simply wasn’t succeeding. Then I met Fleitzer. He too was having issues getting along here, so I suggested that we try to resolve our dilemmas together as a team. From then on, we have been able to explore and learn together, pool our resources and live as we are supposed to live. But enough about us. If there is any way that we can be of service to you, please by all means tell us. We will do our best to comply.”