Swan Song

I will never forget the last morning I shared with my wife.  It was a crisp cold autumn morning and we decided to spend the day by the lake.  I can still feel the dew covered earth on my feet as we walked side by side in silent companionship.  It was always like this between us, we didn’t need words or big gestures, just nature and a peaceful quiet.  I knew that she would be my mate for life from the first time we met. We found our way to the rose garden as we did most days when we ventured to this part of the park. The smell of the Doris Downs had me standing still for just a while as I soaked in their aroma.  I sensed my wife’s growing tension; she was becoming anxious and I knew that she needed to get back to the lake to rest.  Our unborn child was always first on her mind in these last days. 

I lovingly touched her long sleek neck as we made our way back to the calm waters of the lake.  We had the park all to ourselves on those early morning outings.

‘So what shall we call him?’ she asked.

‘I have no idea.  Perhaps we should give him your father’s name?  He was big and strong and lived many years.’ Her face softened.

‘That would be nice.  Do you think he will be strong enough for this world?’ she looked around her at the city just outside the park, with worry in her eyes.  I didn’t answer her then.  I wish I did, but the truth was I wasn’t sure either.  Life was becoming ever harder and more challenging.  Every new generation had to fight harder to stay alive. 

The park started filling with people and we knew that our solitary paradise had come to an end.  We got up, lazy from the warm sun on our skins.  Life full of promise in front of us, dangerous but we had each other.  We started off home.  A gentle breeze was playing on my skin and I closed my eyes in enjoyment. 

‘Oh, look what we have here guys!’ I heard a teenager shout, pointing at us.  I turned around towards my wife who looked at me petrified.  ‘They’re black! I think we should get rid of them.’ More teenagers came and started forming a circle around us.  Their designer clothes showed that they did not suffer any hardship.  ‘Do you think we can get them to fly?  Like birds?’ I looked at the speaker; he was overweight with a pimply face.  He bent over, grunting as he picked up a pebble.  Four girls in very short miniskirts started giggling.  Their make-up made them look like make-believe women.  ‘Let’s see Duke.’

I shot a glance at my wife and mentioned to her to run; to run as fast as her legs would carry her.  But she was in complete shock.  She just stood still as the first pebble hit her body with a dull thump.  Yelling at the youths, I started with all my might to fight back.  I tried to get help, tried to get the other people in the park to take notice of our plight.  After the first pebble hit, the teenager’s excitement started to intensify.  I could tell merely hurting her wouldn’t be enough. 

The fat one, more monstrous now than before, kept picking up bigger and bigger stones hurling them at my wife.  Bewildered by the hail of stones she would just make a small croaking sound.  Finally she was lying on the ground, bleeding and her eyes started to glaze over.  I had been powerless. 

‘Hey you! What do you think you are doing?’ an elderly man hobbled over, walking cane in hand.  The youths saw him coming and ran off.  He reached us and more people started walking towards us.  As they came towards my wife I made way for them to help her. 

‘Look at what those idiots did!’ the hold man exclaimed, pointing with his cane. ‘What is this world coming to?’  ‘Oh my, is she going to be all right then?’ said another. 

‘Do you think this is her mate?’ 

People’s eyes started fixing on me and I knew that they would look after her, but I needed to look after our son. 

I looked at my beautiful wife’s face and saw that there was no more life in her eyes.  The once shiny pools of light were dull.  I had saved her from dogs, cats and even an African Meerkat once when it escaped from the zoo, but I wasn’t able to save her today.  A park official arrived; he placed his jacket on the wet earth.  He gently picked up her body, but her beautiful face that I had adored for so long did not lift.  She did not struggle and her body was wrapped in the official’s jacket, covered so that I could not see her. 

My wings felt heavy now, heavier than ever before.  But my feet took on a life of their own and all I could think about was our son.  I was in the lake, and with each thrust into the water the bank fell away behind me.  I swam towards our nest in the bushes and got on our solitary egg, gently ensuring that my soft plumes encompassed the whole shell.    

Lately there’s been a lot more people in the park, it’s busier.  People walk by the bushes, pause and point.  Then they chatter, some even cover their mouths in horror as the story is retold.  I haven’t really been able to take my customary walk to the rose garden; the smell of the Doris Downs is sickly now and too vivid.  Choking almost so that I cannot breathe. 

Someone from the zoo brings me food every day.  It’s the same park official.  The first day he came he sat on his haunches just staring at me.  I felt movement in the egg today, so he will probably hatch tomorrow.  Raising him on my own will be a challenge, but I will give him my wife’s father’s name and he will be big and strong and live for many years, that is all a simple swan can ask for. 

 

In memory of the killing at Moonee Ponds, Melbourne, Australia on the 6^th of April 2011