THE
BIRDMAN THE BANSHEE AND THE MISBEHAVING BUDDHA
Ever
had one of those weeks when you think that you’re the
only normal person left on the planet and that everyone
else has lost their marbles? Well I know I am in no way
shape or form anywhere near what people would term normal
and yet I have been made aware that I might just be the
only sane person left in my little corner of the world.
Every
day as I walk to my bus stop I pass the same old gentleman
sitting on a bench. I can’t tell whether he’s
homeless or not but he’s been wearing the same old
shoddy sweatshirt for over a year now and he wears it regardless
of what the weather is like. I’ve always thought this
man was a gentle soul who just sat on his bench, fed the
birds that surrounded him and watched the world go by, but
last week I realized once again that looks are deceiving.
When I walked past him I saw that he had two dead birds
in his hands and he suddenly stood up and walked to the
side of the road and threw them into the oncoming traffic.
I couldn’t help myself I just had to stop and stare
at him and as I did so he turned around, looked at me and
smiled. I still see him every day but he now avoids my gaze.
I have no idea what happened to the birds but the writer
in me has gone into overdrive. Did he kill them? How did
he kill them? Did he poison them? Has he poisoned others?
Why did he throw them like that? I want to ask him these
questions but after having seen the ferocity with which
he hurled them I’m afraid that he might do the same
to me.
Now
we must leave the Birdman and I must describe to you one
of the strangest meetings that I have ever encountered.
I have tried to put it down to the fact that it was the
day before Halloween and that everyone was acting a little
strange but that explanation does not even come close. I
was walking in the parking lot of the local Shopper’s
Drug Mart when I noticed a woman heading directly toward
me. I was in the vicinity of the gym where I work so I thought
she must be a member coming to say hello to me because she
was staring so intently at me. However as she got closer
I realized that I didn’t recognize her at all, she
had a mass of wiry grayish/black hair, her mouth was set
in a firm line and her eyes were the blackest I’ve
ever seen. When I tried to move to get out of her way she
stood in front of me and growled. I don’t mean a Marge
Simpson type of growl either, it was a wild sound like that
of a rabid dog and it really intrigued me. She didn’t
say a word to me but looked past me at someone else and
made a beeline for him. I know this sounds horrible because
she was obviously mentally unstable but I found myself thinking
how amazing it would feel if I could go up and start barking
at people. Haven’t you ever had a day where you just
feel like you’re caged? Where there just aren’t
any words to describe how you’re feeling? Wouldn’t
it feel amazing to just howl at the moon and let it all
out? Okay, maybe I am becoming slightly unhinged now.
As
if that wasn’t weird enough I now have to try and make
sense of the strange happenings in my apartment. For the
last couple of weeks I have been experiencing paranormal
activity in my living room and balcony area. Experiencing
the paranormal is nothing out of the ordinary for me as
I am what is called a natural medium and I have seen and
heard some very frightening things in my work, but these
events aren’t frightening they’re just plain irritating.
It was late in the evening and I had just opened the sliding
glass door to my balcony to let my cats out; I went into
the kitchen to get a drink when I heard an almighty kafuffle
and then a very loud THUD. When I came out of the kitchen
I saw that my balcony door had been shut and something had
frightened my cats so badly that Ruthie’s tail was
twice its normal size and her eyes were like saucers. My
poor Limey it seems was the cause of the horrid noise that
I heard as he had knocked himself out cold while trying
to run back inside. There is no way that a door that heavy
could have been shut by the wind, and I am on the fourth
floor so it is impossible for anyone to climb over my balcony
wall. I would love to say that that is the extend of my
problems on the home front but it isn’t, I haven’t
been able to sleep in my bed for the last few weeks because
I keep being woken up by someone either pinching me or blowing
on my face; it isn’t frightening or threatening in
any way but it is very annoying. But what’s bothering
me the most is the fact that someone or something keeps
moving my Buddha.
He stands quite serenely on top of my wall unit in my living
room and has been a calming presence in my home right up
until the end of last week. My wall unit is a very large
very heavy monstrosity that is impossible for my cats to
climb and since I live alone no one but me would be able
to move him. I have never moved him but every so often I
will find that he has managed to travel to the opposite
end of the unit. Two days ago I came home to find that not
only had he gone traveling again but had managed to turn
himself around so that his ample rump was staring me in
the face.
I’m
not upset by these events. I’m irritated because I’m
wondering why they have to keep happening to me and I’m
a little frustrated because when I try to talk to my family
about them they look at me like I’m a freak of nature.
Well maybe I am. Maybe their energies are focused on me
because they think I’m a kindred spirit or maybe I’m
just a complete crackpot. All I know is that if I don’t
talk about these things, if I keep them bottled up inside
of me, then I might be the one growling at strangers on
the street.
he