Those Unseen / Linger more PHOTO AND STORY BY MANUELA BATAS I used to watch her from the distance as I crossed the park. Her wheelless truck’s door was always open, like she didn’t care she was watched. A glimpse inside and all of those pigeons, some out, some in cages, watching over a still silhouette sitting. A pile of insanitary clothes, soiled. No face. I avoided seeing her face. I couldn’t confront her eyes. The smell of wet birds and damp hit me before I even got close. My hands clenched the strap of my camera bag as I jumped between feathers and seeds mixed with mud. She wasn’t lonely. There were these birds. Hundreds of them. Watching over her in this leafless tree. Perching from its branches like moving apples, shadows twisting across the trunk. When her body moved under the pile of rags, I ran. I came the next day and faced the other side of her stationary truck. The one without a door, where she couldn’t see me. The birds still there. I noticed the artwork on the doorless side. Scribbled cartoons, the main character, a gigantic anthropomorphic pigeon, staring from the van. Above, still countless birds, until I heard a sound. “Shuuu!" No. 146 And a voice shouting. “Go away! Why are you staring? Are you going to call the police?” She seemed frail, curved like a question mark, hiding behind the truck’s door. Her sudden appearance sent a shiver down my spine, with my fingers gripping the camera strap, unsure whether to run or stay. “No, no, I just like the birds. Your birds are beautiful! Just wonderful!” I said as I pointed the camera to the sky, towards the tree’s arms, the viewfinder unable to keep the clouds in frame without shaking. The cooing and rustle of wings, the wind cracking the branches in the rhythm of my heart pounding like a drum on an empty stage. “Yes, they are! If you’d only see when they gather all together. These are not all! I have many! People hate them. Poison them. Throw rocks at them! But I save the ones I can.” The silhouette sprinted on the improvised stairs descending from the door, wearing a black, pointy beanie hat. Here she was, in front of me. A toothless mouth opened its corners like a half moon. “They look healthy!” “I nurse some injured ones, I have them inside. Do you want to see
33 Publizr Home