So this interview is working backwards, looking at a moment of augury that was handed to me, even before I began to pursue this calling in earnest. Election day, Novermber 2nd 2004, was a day when the question was implicit and the answer heavy with significance.
First I examine my journal entry from that day:
I got to work on time, and shortly after, a small bird flew into the store. No one knew quite what to do, and it flew around for awhile. I'm not sure what kind of bird it was. Grey, slightly bigger than a sparrow. Eventually it perched by the Gameboy games, and a security guard and I took it down. At first I held it closely so that it wouldn't escape, but as I walked outside and opened my hands, he didn't move. He perched on my finger and stared around. His wings looked intact, and I set him down by the park, and left him there in shock. He was so warm.
I had voted that morning in the polling station across the street, and sat all afternoon at work nervously checking news sites. The experience with the bird was so unusual, so jarring, that I--due to my own heightened sensitivity and eagerness for answers--desperately searched for meaning in its presence. Now I look again, and wonder where to start.
A grey bird, slightly bigger than a sparrow? There are no less than nine species of sparrows in the New York county according to the Audubon Society. Of course, this is all speculation, considering that my initial description was that the bird was slightly bigger than a sparrow. I may be barking up the entirely wrong tree, and looking in the wrong nest, as it were. Since identifying the species of the bird and any potential significance seems impossible, I can only now look back in memory to the moment again, and through retrospection glean the interview of sorts that happened.
- It was flying wildly, stopping in corners of the high ceiling, flying into and up against posters for Jersey Girl and Pirates of the Caribbean.
- The security guard and I were the ones who took most notice.
- When it landed on the Gameboy games and stayed still enough, I reached up cautiously.
- It offered no resistance as I held it gently between my palms, its head sticking out.
- It was warm.
- Birds' have quick heartbeats. They are functioning at a different speed, on a different time than we are.
- I walked through the store, watching its eyes.
- I looked for cars and crossed 40th street.
- At this point it had climbed onto my finger and was perched there, looking at me.
- Are you okay? Are you hurt?
- heart-whirr. heart-whirr.
- Do you want me to stay with you?
- On the edge of the park in front of the library, I tried to coax it onto the stone ledge. It would not leave my finger.
- Will you be alright?
- heart-whirr. heart-whirr.
- I placed him on the ledge.
- Why are you here? Does it mean something today? Do you know what's going to happen today? Do you know what will happen after?
- It did not move. It stood very still, in shock, heart-whirr.
- I walked away across the street again, looking back. It had not moved.
- By the time I came back outside hours later, it had gone. I checked the area to make sure it had not fallen or been injured.
We know how that day ended, looking through the windows of bars on Avenue A, seeing the color red spreading across the television screen.
