A Sketch by Jean-Pierre Martinez
Him and Her arrive, clearly lost and exhausted.
Her – Haven’t we been here before? It feels like we took shelter under this oak just fifteen minutes ago…
Him – At the same time, one tree looks much like another. By the way, how do you know it’s an oak?
Her – There are acorns underneath…
Him – I wonder if we wouldn’t be better off sitting down and waiting…
He sits on the ground, discouraged.
Her – Wait for what? We’re in the city park, not in the Amazon jungle! Do you really think the police will mount a rescue mission just because they see our car alone in the parking lot tonight?
He doesn’t respond. She sits down too, resigned. He stares fixedly at something straight ahead.
Her – What are you looking at like that?
Him – The crow over there… I have the feeling I’ve seen it before…
Her – Ah, you see, what did I say… We’ve been here already…
Him (thoughtful) – When I was a kid, my father brought a crow home one evening… He was a lumberjack, my father… So he cut down the tree and… Naturally, the nest… I fed it with a small spoon… You can’t imagine the noise a baby crow makes when it’s hungry… At first, I didn’t even dare to approach… And then little by little, I tamed it… It followed me everywhere, like a little dog.
Her – On foot?
Him – It must have thought I was its mother. Since it didn’t see me fly, it had no idea of doing it either.
She looks visibly as if she wonders if he’s delirious.
Him – He used to steal my father’s pencils from his desk and bury them in the garden. We had a good laugh about that…
Her (perplexed) – Mmm…
Him – And then little by little, it learned to use its wings!
Her (lost) – What?
Him – At first, it was just small jumps. From one garden chair to another… And then from the chair to a tree…
Her – It must have seen other crows flying. That gave it ideas…
Him – At first, it only left for a day or two… We knew it would come back… And then one day, it left for good, and we never saw it again… It went back to the wild…
Her – Or maybe a hunter shot it. If it wasn’t shy…
Him (continuing without hearing her) – Since then, every time I see a crow, I wonder if it’s not Baback…
Her – Baback…?
Him – That’s what we called it…
He still gazes at the crow with a dreamy look. She looks at him more and more perplexed.
Her – Wait, your crow must have been dead for a long time!
Him – Don’t believe that. A crow can live more than a hundred years…
She stands up to break the spell.
Her – Well, I wouldn’t want to disturb these touching reunions, but maybe we should think about heading back. It’s starting to get dark…
He looks in the direction of the crow.
Him (disappointed) – It flew away… Maybe it wasn’t him after all…
She seems relieved to see him coming back to reason.
Him – Or maybe you scared him away…
They leave.
Her – Are you sure it’s this way? I’m not ready for a return to the wild yet…
Black.
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A sketch from the collection Lost Times Chronicles
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)
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