The Comfort of Blackbirds

No slideshow of beloved faces and memories flashed through Jillian’s mind in the seconds before her bonnet collided with the unyielding tree trunk and as her head slammed into the deploying airbag, it was freed of any thought. 

Two weeks later, Jillian heaved herself up in bed while clenching her teeth at the pain still surging through her bandaged leg. Wispy leaves curled on the enormous oak tree outside her window, where a blackbird was building a nest of fluffy moss and rough stalks in its crown. The bird released its loot and hopped down the thick branches and onto the armrest of the bench below, which promised a cool resting place in summer. A man in worn slippers and a withered complexion sat there and sucked on his cigarette. As he noticed the bird, he cocked his head and blew the poisonous fumes in its direction, which flapped with its wings and fluttered away. 

A knock diverted Jillian's attention and she sluggishly turned towards the sound where Lissy's shock of blonde hair appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a coat too thick for spring and a versatile looking handbag over one shoulder. Her hands clutched two steaming paper cups. 

‘Good morning,’ Lissy said and walked over to Jillian, who was leaning against a large pillow with her good leg dangling over the edge of the bed. The smell of coffee and Lissy's own scent of sandalwood and jasmine flooded Jillian's nostrils as she placed the cups on the side table. 

Jillian liked Lissy's friendly composure and didn't mind her visits. But she had been fighting the constant drooping of her eyelids all morning and her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and Lissy would sit there patiently, expecting her to talk. She should suggest another day for a visit, Jillian thought, but kept her mouth shut. She was never able to convince people when they had their minds made up. 

'Please, help yourself.' Lissy pointed at the cups as she dropped her bag on the window sill and disentangled herself from her coat, which she carelessly tossed over the back of the chair standing beside it. She grabbed a cup herself, took a sip and winced; whether at the heat or the taste, Jillian couldn't tell. 

‘How are you feeling?’ Lissy asked while settling down in the chair. 

‘I’m doing great. My leg is getting better each day.’ 

Fine lines fanned out beside Lissy’s eyes as she smiled. ‘Great, I’m happy to hear that. And apart from the leg; how are you holding up?’ 

‘It’s alright. I’m looking forward to going home again, though.’

‘Of course you do. It must be quite boring being trapped in bed all day.’ Lissy glanced sympathetically at Jillian’s injured leg. 

‘It can be,’ Jillian said, before hearing herself add, 'But I'm quite used to boredom,' and a jolt shot through her. Hastily, she gulped down the too-hot coffee to prevent her mouth from slipping further, but Lissy just nodded, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say. 

‘How come?’ Lissy asked as she leisurely leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs in a casual posture. 

‘Well, you know. Doing my daily chores; grocery shopping, gardening, cleaning the house, doing the laundry… ‘ A cramp seized Jillian’s injured leg and she readjusted her seat. The pain, a constant reminder of her impairments, was depressing. 

‘That sounds like a lot. Not much time to get bored, I’d guess.' Lissy chuckled softly, which somehow softened the brashness of her answer. ‘But I know what you mean; following the same routine every day can be mentally dragging. I suppose when you get home your husband will be relieving you of some of those tasks for a while?’ 

‘I think so.’ Jillian said and Frank's familiar face popped into her head. She wondered if he would still be at the house when she got back. 

Lissy reached for her bag and pulled it onto her lap. 'Last time we spoke, you said you’d been on your way to the grocery store before the accident happened, right? Did anything unusual happen earlier that day?' 

Jillian thought back to the morning a fortnight ago. She remembered the window pane swinging back and forth on its hinges, which she had opened despite the cold snap the previous night. The curtains shivered under a blast of icy wind that wooshed into the sparsely furnished room like an evil spectre; its hiss echoing off the walls. Jillian tilted her head as if listening while she was swinging in the rocking chair next to the empty cradle. 

The front door slammed shut, and she rose from the chair, which rocked back and forth in an echo of her movement. With somnambulistic grace, she crossed the room and went to the window. The handle in her hand was painfully cold, but she didn’t pull away as she looked down at her rose bushes, already in full bloom. 

Outlined against the dusty morning haze, she caught sight of Frank's silhouette as he walked to his car. Jillian hadn't heard him come to bed last night; he had probably been sleeping on the sofa. They had exhausted each other once again as their opposing views circled like vultures around the remains of an argument that should have been buried long ago. Jillian had noticed immediately that something was different when Frank, who always ended their fights with a hug and the promise that they would feel better someday, pierced the living room wall with his stare. 

He sounded robotic when he finally talked, saying that it had been two years now and they had to move on: that he could no longer live with the remnant of what might have been. 

And when he said there was someone else, his voice cracked altogether, filling Jillian's ears with white noise as the last connection broke and she became a floating thing, distant and aloof. 

‘No,’ Jillian answered with her eyes fixed on the window, ‘It has been a normal day.’ 

Under the oak tree, the man had gotten to his feet and was now standing on the bench, a freshly lit cigarette dangling between his teeth. He unzipped his pants and exposed himself to the world, without a care for his surroundings. From somewhere beyond Jillian's field of vision, a gaunt woman in a greenish uniform appeared, skinny limbs swinging limply all around her as she hurried across the lawn. Her voice was silenced by the rigid window pane, but the ensuing pantomime painted a picture of her breathless efforts to pull up the man's pants while simultaneously shoving him off his pedestal, which he all faced with stoic ignorance. 

'I see.' Lissy pulled a black notebook from her bag and opened it on her knees, remaining entirely unimpressed by the commotion that had erupted outside, where another man in uniform had joined the woman. Together they pulled the smoking man off the bench, whose face had turned purple as he shouted at them. 

Lissy flipped to one page and stared intently at her notes before she looked up at Jillian. 'Please tell me again what happened before your car hit the tree, Jillian.’

Jillian squirmed under Lissy's attentive gaze. ‘Well, it's all very blurry. I know I was speeding and must have lost control of the car somehow. I remember jerking the steering wheel around and trying to bring the car to a stop, but it was too late…’

'I understand it must be hard to remember everything,' Lissy nodded. 'But I would like you to take a moment and focus on the last feeling you had just before the crash. How do you feel?

Calm.

‘Scared,' Jillian said. 

Lissy’s earlier joviality was replaced by professional sincerity as she abandoned her relaxed posture and leaned closer to Jillian. 'You know what still worries me. And I honestly believe that opening up about it will help you.’

The angry voices from outside had ebbed away and for a moment everything around Jillian was shrouded in anticipatory silence.

‘Why weren’t there any brake marks at the crash scene, Jillian?’ 

The all-consuming tiredness sank deeper into her bones and she felt its gravity anchoring her to this bed, to this facility; at the mercy of Lissy's probing questions. The blackbird had returned to his nest, beak filled with more material to build his nest and make it comfortable for his offspring. Jillian watched his merry efforts and tears rose to her eyes. How could she be jealous of a bird?

Feeling pathetic, she wiped her eyes. ‘Sorry,’ she said and cleared her throat. ‘I really don’t know why there were no marks to be found. But I did step on the brakes.' Jillian hoped her smile was as convincing as she intended.

'All right.' Lissy scribbled something in her notebook, then looked at her watch. 'I think it would be good if we had another session in the next few days,' she said and grabbed her bag and jacket. 

‘Okay. But there's really no need to worry. I'm fine," Jillian said.

Lissy still smiled when they said their good-byes, but Jillian was sure she saw doubt in her eyes. 

Alone again, Jillian succumbed to the heaviness that dragged her down and as her head touched the pillow, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. You'll be fine, she murmured softly to herself as her thoughts settled on that peaceful freedom just before her world imploded in a metallic bang and everything went dark.