Jacob Grey - The Crow Talker

Lydia’s eyes lit up. “Are you hungry?” she asked, taking off her backpack.

“A little,” Caw admitted.

She fished inside and took out a chocolate bar in a blue wrapper. “Here you go,” she said, offering it to him across the nest.

Caw took it from her like it was a precious thing, and peeled the wrapper away carefully. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten chocolate.

Careful , said Glum. It might be poisoned.

Caw rolled his eyes, then took a huge bite. His teeth sank through the thick chocolate, and it melted over his tongue. The bar was gone in seconds, sweetness coating the inside of his mouth.

“A little hungry?” said Lydia, still grinning. “Here.” She handed him an apple. Caw tried to eat it more slowly, in methodical bites. The fruit’s flesh exploded juice into his mouth, and it dribbled over his chin.

Save a bit for us! said Screech.

Caw tossed the core to the two crows, who attacked it with their beaks. He didn’t worry about saving any for Milky. The white crow rarely ate.

“The scrawny one looks hurt,” said Lydia, pointing to Screech’s crooked leg.

Who’s she calling scrawny? said Screech.

“Come here, little crow,” said Lydia soothingly. “Let me take a look.”

She’d better not be talking to me , said Screech, lifting his beak haughtily. I’m not little.

Glum gave a throaty laugh.

“He’s just a bit nervous,” said Caw.

Lydia leant towards Screech. “I could make a splint,” she said. “You’ve got plenty of junk here I could use. And I’m good with animals.”

Screech hopped away from her.

“Let her try,” said Caw. “She might be able to help.”

“I’ve got another apple,” said Lydia, taking it out of her bag and handing it to him. “Here.”

Caw ate more slowly this time, watching as Lydia fashioned a splint out of twigs and string. Screech extended his leg gingerly, and she fastened the splint into place. Milky, Caw noticed, had dropped into the nest through the small opening in the tarp at the far end. Caw didn’t think Lydia even knew he was there. But the blind crow seemed to be watching them with his sightless eyes.

“Done!” she said, with a clap of her hands. “It’s not broken, but he should keep it rested.”

Screech peered down at the splint. It’s not a half-bad job! he said.

“He says ‘thank you’,” said Caw. He almost smiled again, but caught himself. What was he doing, letting his guard down, welcoming this girl into his most secret place? What if she told her family about it? What if she told everyone? He cleared his throat.

“Look, thank you for the food, but …”

“Are those books?” she said, scrambling across the nest. In the corner, beneath Caw’s tattered sweater, was his latest stack.

“Yes,” said Caw. “But—”

Lydia took one. “They’re picture books!” she said, grinning.

Caw really wanted her to go now, but he couldn’t think of the right words.

“Why are you reading picture books?” she said. “They’re for little kids.”

Caw felt his blush deepen.

Lydia’s look turned to utter dismay. “Wait – I’m sorry. Did you ever learn to read?”

Caw lowered his gaze and managed a tiny shake of his head.

“Hey, these are library books,” said Lydia. “Did you … steal them?”

“No!” said Caw, glancing up angrily. “I borrowed them.”

“You have a library card?” said Lydia, her eyebrow arching.

“Not exactly,” said Caw. “A woman – a librarian – leaves them outside for me.”

Lydia put the book down. “I could teach you to read,” she said.

Caw didn’t know what to say. Why was she being so nice to him?

“I mean, if you want me to,” she added awkwardly. “Maybe we could go to the library together – pick something to help you learn.”

Caw was about to reply when Milky let out a thin cry. Everyone looked at the white crow.

“Whoa, I didn’t see him there,” said Lydia, shifting uncomfortably. “Why are his feathers like that?”

“They always have been,” said Caw, his eyes fixed on Milky. “Listen, thanks for the offer with the library, but—”

Milky squawked again.

“Sounds like he wants you to come with me,” Lydia said with a grin. She pushed out her bottom lip. “But then, I don’t speak bird.”

Glum hissed.

“That one’s tetchy, isn’t he?” said Lydia.

Caw was watching Milky. Why was the white crow making such a fuss?

Milky blinked. Did he really want Caw to go with this strange girl? It had been Milky’s words about the spider that had convinced Caw to follow Lydia’s father the night before. And if he hadn’t, he never would have seen the tattoo. The one that matched the ring in his dream.

“Come on,” Lydia urged. “What harm can a trip to the library do?”

Of course! If anyone could help him understand what the spider symbol meant, it was the librarian. She had so many books.

“So what do you say?” said Lydia.

Bad idea , said Glum.

I think she’s all right , said Screech, holding up his leg.

Caw looked at both of them, then at Lydia. He’d never had a friend before. And she’d gone to a lot of trouble to find him. Plus Milky had spoken for the first time in all the eight years Caw had known him. Perhaps it was a sign.

“Before you say no, it’s my way of saying thanks for saving us,” said Lydia.

Caw watched her face closely, as if her features might betray her thoughts. Was he actually ready to trust another human being after avoiding them for so long?

Perhaps not yet. But if he kept his guard up, and the crows were with him …

“OK,” he said. “Just this once.”

aw always felt on edgewhen he went out in the daytime. At night, when he scoured the city for food and supplies, the darkness protected him from prying eyes. It allowed him to move freely through the streets and along rooftops. But down on the ground, under the glare of sunshine, he felt exposed. Cars gridlocked the streets and hundreds of people filled the pavements and shops. He told himself the people weren’t looking at him, but it never helped.

This time, though, with Lydia at his side, he almost felt normal. Of course he kept an eye on the sky, to check that Screech and Glum were still with them. Milky had remained behind at the nest.

Blackstone was vast, its streets organised on a grid. Caw couldn’t read the names on the signs, but he counted the blocks. That way, he always knew where to find the road that led up to the park. As they walked deeper into the city, buildings loomed up on either side, so tall the sky was just a strip of grey above. The people who lived at the top must feel like they were in a nest too, he thought.

Monorail lines threaded over the streets on viaducts or plunged into tunnels that burrowed underground. The stations were scattered through the city, disgorging passengers from the bowels of the earth. Caw had never ventured beneath the streets. The thought of being trapped down there chilled him to the bone.