Cookoo Charlie's Animal Alphabet - Ibis

Ibis

(Originally titled Trail-Mixed Finger Food)

Not quite a year after Charlie Hogan had kicked his father down the basement stairs, seconds after said father had kicked the family German shepherd down those same stairs, he was hiking on a trail in Mill Creek Park. Although the meteorologist predicted early rain, it turned out to be an almost picture-perfect postcard day. And when Charlie had drug his lazy ass out of bed that morning, he couldn’t have predicted that that day would be his last day in the Buckeye State.

Stepping around a patch of muddy ground, Charlie trekked another fifteen feet when he spotted a beautiful American white ibis, a rarity this far north, standing in the creek with a fish protruding from his/her bill. The ibis was attempting to position the fish for easy access down its gullet. Charlie had never witnessed such a mesmerizing event and stood there transfixed in the middle of the trail.

“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind him. Charlie inched to the right, as a headphone-wearing man, late twenties/early thirties, passed him and continued on his determined path. Now, for all Charlie knew, the guy could’ve been listening to someone he listened to: Alice Cooper, The Doors, or, perhaps, Jethro Tull. But at that precise moment, Charlie didn’t give a shit. All he saw was a totally clueless moron disconnected to his natural surroundings. He couldn’t hear the harmonious birdsong on the wind, the foraging chipmunk scurrying through the brush, nor the melodious sound of the cascading falls at Pioneer Pavilion. He was obstinately oblivious to the wondrous world around him. He was plugged into an artificial atmosphere that was created by an isolated society that would soon be giving birth to babies attached not to umbilical cords, but to cords equipped for some newly-imagined, intrepidly insidious technical device.

Disgusted, Charlie turned back his attention to the feasting fowl. In those couple of precious seconds he had given up to that wandering asshole, the bird had taken flight. Charlie knew not if his/her feeding had been successful or had lost the meal to the silent waters in which it came.

Before Charlie was aware of what he was doing, he had his knife out and made the ten to twelve steps behind Jamming Jimmy. Pulling his head back, Charlie slit his throat, arterial blood spraying the green foliage, and let his body slump to the dirt. Above, in the trees, three crows vociferously acknowledged their approval of the murder.

Faculties returning, Charlie stood aghast, gazing down at the man he had just slayed. Holy shit! What had he just done? He was just a punk-ass kid who had dropped-out of his senior year of high school last year, and seconds ago he had killed someone in a public place. He wasn’t prepared for this! Shit, was anyone?

Acting swiftly, for he could have company at any moment, Charlie picked up the dead man, fireman-carried him to a semi-secluded area and dumped his body behind a fallen oak. Knelling over his corpse, Charlie could only see good meat that would go to waste. Lacking the time to stick around and practice his carcass-carving skills, he used his knife to slice the ears off. He did this for two reasons: First: He had made Charlie so goddamn irritable and Secondly: Charlie wanted to eat them. He had earmarked this occasion ads the first time he had consumed human flesh.

Grabbing the man’s left hand, Charlie cut deep into the index finger, until it became unattached and proceeded to do the same with the others. Removing a doo-rag from his pants pocket, Charlie placed the bloody digits inside, and stuffed his improvised snack-pack back into his pocket.

Finger-food for later.