Birth

There was a whoosh, then a jolt. I felt myself falling. Sheer terror and excitement swept over me. We were picking up speed. My senses sprang to life in a split second; I braced for the unexpected. There was a sharp bump; we had crashed. The capsule bounced and rolled, coming to a stop on a spongy surface. Only seconds had passed, but I was dizzy, trembling, and disoriented.

A gooey liquid surrounded and cushioned me inside a brittle shell. I hit the ground so hard that the casing cracked. I peered out through the narrow opening. The light of awareness poured in. The darkness I had always known gave way to a strange new world of unknown dangers. For the first time, I saw shadows, heard sounds, and felt sensations and emotions. The scent of a weird and wonderful atmosphere permeated the capsule. I was terrified, but intoxicated. The membrane that prevented me from being ejected clouded my view. Then I felt a strange but comfortable flowing consciousness. A new world was opening up to me: my birth had begun.

A shadowy figure approached. He was tall, thin, and somewhat menacing in appearance, wearing shabby, smelly clothes. This was the first image my young eyes witnessed. A huge trembling, dirty hand enveloped the outside of the shell and plucked capsule and all from the cool grass. It was warm and comforting. The man mumbled to himself. These were the first words I recall hearing. I didn’t know their meaning, but they were music to my ears. Their serenity calmed me. I relaxed. I felt no more fear.

I felt him lift me and put me inside his shirt pocket, next to a package of Chesterfields. These long white cylinders packed tightly with tobacco had an odor that made my head spin. I later learned that these were called cigarettes and were highly addictive to humans. I sensed a different upward motion; the man was climbing the tree from which I fell. He reached the nest, and fumbled in his pocket for me. Several cigarettes spilled out and floated to the ground. He placed me back in the nest, next to my brother, who rested safely in his own shell. The mighty wind that blew me from the nest had not affected him. I felt a strong connection to my brother egg- was one of love and security. The man climbed back down. He had saved me from my sudden scrape with death, and provided me with a feeling of great warmth and comfort. I wanted to hug him.

The crack in the shell gave me a peek at my surroundings. The nest was damp and musty; bird excrement and insect parts – legs and wings – littered the grass and bark floor. Half of an oozing earthworm wiggled next to a dirty bottle cap. A cigarette’s reeking butt poked out between twigs held together with mud and moss. A foul stench made my stomach churn.
Then I got a whiff of another aroma, sweet and tempting, that a gentle breeze wafted past my nest. I yearned to investigate the source of this wonderful smell. I struggled and pecked against the rubbery bonds of my shell-and-membrane casing, but quickly tired. Flies, gnats, and ants swarmed over the shell, peeking into the crack and wedging their tiny legs inside, as if to pry it open. If I escaped my prison, I hoped I could snap them up before they overpowered me. I wished my parents would return. I wanted to talk to someone; I needed a companion.
An ugly, fat horsefly, almost an inch long, caught my attention. I dubbed him Horse, not a very original name, I admit, but I was very young, and my imagination and tiny body were still developing. He had two gigantic orbs for eyes. Packed into each eye were a thousand tiny eyes. Peering through the crack, I saw this ugly creature staring back at me. He was licking his chops. We stared at each other, remaining eyeball to eyeball for hours on end. From time to time, he would try to get at me by pushing and pulling on the membrane. Then I realized I might be able to trick him into becoming an unwilling accomplice to my breakout. I cheered Horse on, hoping he would complete the task my fall to the ground had begun. If he succeeded, I would spring out and gulp the ugly creature down, once and for all. However, he failed.

Horse did not mix with the other insects, until four clegs showed up. These blood-sucking, sister horseflies had razor-sharp mouths. The gang of five started to hang out around my nest. Ten-thousand tiny green eyes now kept surveillance over my egg. Sleep eluded me. When I did doze off, I dreamt about gobbling them down-before they gobbled me up. For the first time in my short life, I felt incredibly hungry.

Again, I pecked, pushed and struggled, but the obstinate shell simply refused to release me from its grip. My mother finally descended from the sky in the cool of the late afternoon, scaring off the flies. She sat on my brother and me; and although she warmed us, it made me claustrophobic. Her glossy black feathers blocked off my crack-of-a window to the outside world, plunging me back into total darkness.

Sometimes I could just make out my father perched nervously on a branch above the nest. He was husky, with a stout black beak. His powerful, broad, black wings revealed an iridescent blue in bright sunlight. He looked quickly around in all directions. Both of my parents seemed overly anxious: they flapped and hopped around like demented marionettes, and seemed to be moving in a million directions while staying in the same place. They were always cawing and bickering at each other. I found it quite annoying, and couldn’t wait to get the heck out of both egg and nest. In fact, I wanted to be completely out on my own. I wanted my brother to hatch soon also, so we could begin life together.

I had great ambitions for someone whose birth had only just begun. I wanted to swoop down from my nest, glide, and soar freely aloft. My thoughts of flying occupied most of the day, unless I was staring back at that confounded Horse and his clegs. They were driving me crazy before my birth had barely begun, so I hatched out a plan to trick them into helping me with my escape. If I could free myself, I might be able to help my brother escape as well.

After careful observation, I finally deciphered the buzzes and blips that transmitted horsefly intentions to each other- they were going to pounce on me as soon as my shell split wide open. Then the clegs would cut me apart with their razor-sharp mouths. However, their efforts were not coordinated. They needed to cooperate to facilitate my escape, and I had a plan that just might work.

My body felt like it would explode as I struggled to scratch, tap, and squeak out my message: buzz buzz, blip buzz blip, blip blip buzz buzz. They stopped and looked at each other. They seemed puzzled. They twitched and buzzed. When they turned and looked at my shell, Horse had a hideous grin on his face. With blood-curdling screams, they all descended onto the crack together.

The clegs began prying, poking and cutting, egged on by the ugly Horse. I could feel the perimeter of my prison loosen around me. I was crouched and ready. The egg fell open and I sprang out. But I was just a weak nestling and I tripped and rolled over. Horse and his sisters made for my belly. I recovered quickly, and after four speedy snaps, only Horse was alive. He had escaped, but had left a leg in my beak. He flew away, listing to one side for a moment until he had adjusted to the loss of an appendage. I felt a trickle of warm blood on my stomach that soon stopped. I had barely escaped death once again.

I stretched my weak legs, then wobbled over and wrapped my damp stubby wings around my brother egg. Although I felt warmth radiating from the shell, I couldn’t hear a heart peep. I was alone.

I cannot explain why I understand so much, or why I could see and hear before birth. Maybe the lightening strike that occurred when the storm first hit gave me this power. Perhaps I was coming from another life, being reborn. It didn’t matter. I was eager to continue the adventure.

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