Intrusion © March 1989 Jacquelene Martina. Told in 6 chapters, I create routine, to control it, but I get curious, and ask: What about an intrusion? Warning: Contains passages, some might find upsetting.
He awakes every morning at 4.30, takes his cold shower and have his coffee before he sets out to the back of the yard, where he grows his vegetables and keeps his cattle. The cows are ready to be milked by him. The sun slowly comes over the horizon and he welcomes the first glazes of sunlight I let be bestowed upon him. He is happy that there is never any rain. Always sunshine, always a cool breeze, always the songs of birds. He is alone, but not lonely. He can't be lonely, for he has no will to be so. He is everything that I make him, and he is happy. But I'm not. I feel there must be more to his existence, but this feeling troubles me. It introduces uncertainties, both for me, and for him. How will he respond to intrusion? And how will the intrusion be? One day, he is out on the fields working, when a big black bird cuts across the sky and lands on the ground, a few feet away from him. He gazes at the visitor, puzzled. Why has this bird flown into his domain and landed near to him? He watches the bird, that stands still, with only its head moving to eye him. Suddenly he feels fear. The bird is a bad omen. He rushes into the house for his rifle. On his return, the black bird has disappeared. He stands in the open field and his eyes search the heaven. The sun is too bright for him, but in front of the sun, he's certain to have spotted the bird, hanging there, in the sky. He aims at the sun, and shoots off his rifle. There is shuddering sound, as the bullet explodes upward into the bright sky. Nothing happens, and he aims once more and fires. He is now blinded by the sun and drops his arms. He feels the weight of the gun, and he drops it to the ground. He turns and sees the bird sitting behind him, on the ground. He is too tired and blinded to bother. He walks pass the bird, into his house.
The following day, he comes out at 5:00, after having his shower and his coffee. He walks over to his barn. There is something wrong, he can feel it, but he can't immediately place it. Then, he knows! He rushes to the barn, and pushes the door open. The smell is still fresh, and the air in the barn feels hot. He looks at the cadavers of his cattle. The blood is still oozing out of the wounds, and it's running down towards him and now forms a dark pool around his feet. He hears the sound and looks up. The black bird is sitting high on a bar across the ceiling. He utters one scream, which was sufficient to scare the bird away. The bird, in its flight, utters an awful shriek, which has him on his feet, running as fast as he can, back into his house, for safety. He gets his rifle and cautiously leaves the house, in search of the black bird. There is no sign of the bird in or near the barn. He walks over to the cadavers and kneels near one. The wounds on the first animal are not from pecks, he notices. They too large and deep. It could not have been the bird. He slowly turns around and the black bird is there. 'What is the meaning of this?' he asks. The black bird looks on. The man ignores it and bends over the cadaver, examining it further. The rifle lies beside him, on the dark red ground. The black bird flies over to a cadaver and lands on it. Greedily, it pecks into the meat, ripping large pieces out with his beak. The man looks up to see it, and with an uncontrollable fury, reaches for his rifle, but before he can control himself to fire, the black bird is frightened away. The man runs out after it, aims at the sky and fires. When all his ammunition is used, he angrily throws the rifle onto the ground and drops down beside it. The bird reappears.
'What is this!' the man calls out. 'Get away from here, you evil bird!'
He gets to his feet and chases after the black bird, which flies up into the sky. His inability to follow the black bird intensifies his rage. But the black bird returns every time to the ground and rests in his vicinity. Slowly, he allows his anger to subdue. He sits and watches the bird, and the bird stands and watches him. The evening falls. He finally gets up and returns to the barn. He has to bury the cattle. He decides not to eat of the meat, until he knows what has caused the death. He takes out a shovel and begins to dig. After some minutes, he gives up. He knows he has to hurry up, before the wolves get hold of the smell of the dead animals. Then it hits him that no other scavenger has come to feast on the cadavers. The only scavenger was the black bird, but it has remain by his side all through the evening and has not returned to eat of the dead animals. He is puzzled. It is now dark, and he can only see the gleam of the birds eyes. He suddenly feels terrified and rushes to his house. He locks all doors and windows, something he has never had reason to do before. The sound of scratching on the roof, makes him stiffen with fright. He knows it was the black bird, walking on his roof. He loads up his rifle with fresh ammunition and tries to sleep. He sees his dead body lying out on the open field and the black bird sitting on top of him, tearing away at his flesh. He awakes to the bright light of sun burning his face. He looks at his watch. It is midday. He doesn't shower or take his coffee. He takes hold of his rifle, and this time, determined, sets out to the barn. To his astonishment, all the cadavers are gone. He notices the trail of flattened grass, and gathered they have been dragged off. He follows the trail, his rifle ready to fire at any suspicious movement. He walks the trail, and it seems never-ending. The trail leads to the woods, a place he has never dared to tread. Now, to unfold this mystery, he finds himself forced to enter the dark woods. He feels the terror creeping up in him. He drops his arm, as the weight of the rifle appears to have become too heavy. He is determined not to enter the woods. He is a man of the plain, the endless open fields, where he has a complete overview, of all what lives on it. He has always been happy there. In the woods--. No. He dreads it. He turns to head back, and sees the black bird standing on the ground behind him. He uncontrollably aims his rifle, and this gives the bird the chance to fly up, in the direction of the woods. In his blinding rage, he automatically follows the bird into the woods. There are two shots fired, their sound are muffled by the many trees. Then there is absolute silence. I don't know what happens to him inside those woods. It is not my territory. I dare not enter it. He did, and I remained ignorant of his fate. I end it here. Some moment later, a sole traveller finds his house open, and abandoned. There are no traces of any life around the house, so he settles in. From then on, I control him, give him cattle and crops. I make him happy, and give him no desires to wander off into the unknown. Just then, to my horror, the black bird returns. It nestles on a high bar across the ceiling of the barn, and watches every movement of the man below it. Then, the man looks up, and sees it.
ONE
There lives an elderly man in the centre of a vast open plain. He has a complete overview of the field as he can see far into the distance. There is not anything happening on the field, that he is not aware of. He knows the animals, he knows their seasons, he knows everything of them. But his life is controlled. By me. I know what will happen to him next, he does not. He does not know of my existence either. He knows only of the fields surrounding him, and that's all he needs to know of. He is happy, I am undisturbed in my concentration, and the occurrences go on, uninterrupted. I have control and complete overview of the fields, of the animals living of the land, and of him. Beyond that, I have no control. I leave him ignorant of what lies beyond the plain, for it lies beyond my comprehension as well.He awakes every morning at 4.30, takes his cold shower and have his coffee before he sets out to the back of the yard, where he grows his vegetables and keeps his cattle. The cows are ready to be milked by him. The sun slowly comes over the horizon and he welcomes the first glazes of sunlight I let be bestowed upon him. He is happy that there is never any rain. Always sunshine, always a cool breeze, always the songs of birds. He is alone, but not lonely. He can't be lonely, for he has no will to be so. He is everything that I make him, and he is happy. But I'm not. I feel there must be more to his existence, but this feeling troubles me. It introduces uncertainties, both for me, and for him. How will he respond to intrusion? And how will the intrusion be? One day, he is out on the fields working, when a big black bird cuts across the sky and lands on the ground, a few feet away from him. He gazes at the visitor, puzzled. Why has this bird flown into his domain and landed near to him? He watches the bird, that stands still, with only its head moving to eye him. Suddenly he feels fear. The bird is a bad omen. He rushes into the house for his rifle. On his return, the black bird has disappeared. He stands in the open field and his eyes search the heaven. The sun is too bright for him, but in front of the sun, he's certain to have spotted the bird, hanging there, in the sky. He aims at the sun, and shoots off his rifle. There is shuddering sound, as the bullet explodes upward into the bright sky. Nothing happens, and he aims once more and fires. He is now blinded by the sun and drops his arms. He feels the weight of the gun, and he drops it to the ground. He turns and sees the bird sitting behind him, on the ground. He is too tired and blinded to bother. He walks pass the bird, into his house.
The following day, he comes out at 5:00, after having his shower and his coffee. He walks over to his barn. There is something wrong, he can feel it, but he can't immediately place it. Then, he knows! He rushes to the barn, and pushes the door open. The smell is still fresh, and the air in the barn feels hot. He looks at the cadavers of his cattle. The blood is still oozing out of the wounds, and it's running down towards him and now forms a dark pool around his feet. He hears the sound and looks up. The black bird is sitting high on a bar across the ceiling. He utters one scream, which was sufficient to scare the bird away. The bird, in its flight, utters an awful shriek, which has him on his feet, running as fast as he can, back into his house, for safety. He gets his rifle and cautiously leaves the house, in search of the black bird. There is no sign of the bird in or near the barn. He walks over to the cadavers and kneels near one. The wounds on the first animal are not from pecks, he notices. They too large and deep. It could not have been the bird. He slowly turns around and the black bird is there. 'What is the meaning of this?' he asks. The black bird looks on. The man ignores it and bends over the cadaver, examining it further. The rifle lies beside him, on the dark red ground. The black bird flies over to a cadaver and lands on it. Greedily, it pecks into the meat, ripping large pieces out with his beak. The man looks up to see it, and with an uncontrollable fury, reaches for his rifle, but before he can control himself to fire, the black bird is frightened away. The man runs out after it, aims at the sky and fires. When all his ammunition is used, he angrily throws the rifle onto the ground and drops down beside it. The bird reappears.
'What is this!' the man calls out. 'Get away from here, you evil bird!'
He gets to his feet and chases after the black bird, which flies up into the sky. His inability to follow the black bird intensifies his rage. But the black bird returns every time to the ground and rests in his vicinity. Slowly, he allows his anger to subdue. He sits and watches the bird, and the bird stands and watches him. The evening falls. He finally gets up and returns to the barn. He has to bury the cattle. He decides not to eat of the meat, until he knows what has caused the death. He takes out a shovel and begins to dig. After some minutes, he gives up. He knows he has to hurry up, before the wolves get hold of the smell of the dead animals. Then it hits him that no other scavenger has come to feast on the cadavers. The only scavenger was the black bird, but it has remain by his side all through the evening and has not returned to eat of the dead animals. He is puzzled. It is now dark, and he can only see the gleam of the birds eyes. He suddenly feels terrified and rushes to his house. He locks all doors and windows, something he has never had reason to do before. The sound of scratching on the roof, makes him stiffen with fright. He knows it was the black bird, walking on his roof. He loads up his rifle with fresh ammunition and tries to sleep. He sees his dead body lying out on the open field and the black bird sitting on top of him, tearing away at his flesh. He awakes to the bright light of sun burning his face. He looks at his watch. It is midday. He doesn't shower or take his coffee. He takes hold of his rifle, and this time, determined, sets out to the barn. To his astonishment, all the cadavers are gone. He notices the trail of flattened grass, and gathered they have been dragged off. He follows the trail, his rifle ready to fire at any suspicious movement. He walks the trail, and it seems never-ending. The trail leads to the woods, a place he has never dared to tread. Now, to unfold this mystery, he finds himself forced to enter the dark woods. He feels the terror creeping up in him. He drops his arm, as the weight of the rifle appears to have become too heavy. He is determined not to enter the woods. He is a man of the plain, the endless open fields, where he has a complete overview, of all what lives on it. He has always been happy there. In the woods--. No. He dreads it. He turns to head back, and sees the black bird standing on the ground behind him. He uncontrollably aims his rifle, and this gives the bird the chance to fly up, in the direction of the woods. In his blinding rage, he automatically follows the bird into the woods. There are two shots fired, their sound are muffled by the many trees. Then there is absolute silence. I don't know what happens to him inside those woods. It is not my territory. I dare not enter it. He did, and I remained ignorant of his fate. I end it here. Some moment later, a sole traveller finds his house open, and abandoned. There are no traces of any life around the house, so he settles in. From then on, I control him, give him cattle and crops. I make him happy, and give him no desires to wander off into the unknown. Just then, to my horror, the black bird returns. It nestles on a high bar across the ceiling of the barn, and watches every movement of the man below it. Then, the man looks up, and sees it.