Aramides Gutturalis (531 hits)
Category: RomanceLabels: story
Rating: 1.37 on 9 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by spacemonkey (View user info) at 2009-02-14 07:24:21 EST
When my college, a young, thin biologist who hadn't seen sunlight in quite some time, asked me to join him for a drink I thought it a splendid idea. When I reached the public house however, I saw he had ordered liquor. I knew then that this would be a long night.
"Of course there are no more Aramides Gutturalis today. They're gone, so I'll never study one again" he slurred as I sat down. "I'll never fully understand it."
My college placed his nearly empty glass of scotch down on the bar. As he sighed his shoulders slumped.
"What a shame" I said. He was drunk now and that meant I would be forced to endure another one of his tirades about the Red-throated Wood Rail. It was a sad thing when a mind as bright and capable as the young scientist's obsessed over Peruvian birds with dubious claims to existence. I decided to share that thought with him.
"Don't you tell me it never existed! I was there! In Peru! It was a few years ago... I can remember it exactly..."
His speech had suddenly sobered up, though I could see a drunken fervor in his eyes. He continued.
"It was years ago in the Ashaninka Communal Reserve. I had been in there for weeks and had been in there for weeks after receiving a tip from a local village that an unusual bird had been sighted. It seems this bird had the most lovely crimson neck plumage. I was excited, and who wouldn't have been? The scientific community has long been searching for real evidence that Aramides Gutturalis exists...."
"Well I was tired, wet, hungry, and had just about lost all hope of ever finding anything when I finally spotted her. It was about 23 minutes until noon and I had gone down from the clearing that was the sight of my humble camp to the river to make some observations. The river was a chaotic surge of water. It was but one of the major tributaries that ran into the Amazon, and at times the thought of the sheer volume of water moving though that system is staggering.
While safely nestled on a bank above I peered down onto the beach bellow where the rushing river fought the soil for control of the earth. It was then that I spotted her: the most lovely and clever bird I have ever had the distinct pleasure of observing. She walked proud and upright and her beautiful red feathers shone like a precious ruby! I can see your doubt and believe me I wouldn't have believed it had I not been there myself.
Once I recovered from my initial shock, I set to work. I recorded a few initial observations, and then began a sketch. The bird was magnificent. Her feathers shone with brilliance in the sunlight and I could see intelligence of the highest caliber in her eyes. How delicately I drew her wings and slender legs. Surely this was the apex of all creation! I observed her until she wandered from my field of vision.
I returned to camp jubilated. Never before had I dreamed of encountering such a magnificent creature and yet there was one! Now I would be able to study the Aramides Gutturalis and learn its ways."
"In the weeks that followed I managed to gain the bird's trust. Slowly, bit by bit it became accustom to my presence. After I had gotten it to except my offer of some Spam, it began to follow me back to my camp, and eating its meals with me. My god, it used to catch frogs, and small fish and bring them from the river bank to eat with me! And if ever I was running late, or missed a meal, she would grow agitated and call out to me in a high melodious fluttering tone. On occasion, when feeling especially content in my presence, she serenaded me with her song. It was as if a choir of seraphims had descended from the heavens. I was amused at the totality of the bird's affection, and thrilled that the attention she was giving made observing her much easier. I was thoroughly enjoying this research, and gloated over the prospect of announcing the confirmation of a new species of wood rail."
Suddenly his eyes darkened, and focused on something father away than Peru. When he spoke, his previous enthusiasm was gone.
"In time she began to call out to me whenever I wasn't present. Reading in my tent? She's squawking. Out for a walk in the jungle? Squawking. Changing my clothes, out getting firewood, or taking a goddamn shit! Squawking, squawking, squawking!" He had quickly flared up. "I couldn't sleep for the squawking!" A sigh. He continued slowly again, his tone lowered.
"The lack of sleep caused a great irritability to descend upon me. Her constant calls; how I dreaded them! Just as I would begin to drift off to sleep, I would hear a rustling and then, her awful shrilling would begin!
After several days of this I had nearly reached a breaking point. Being in the jungle is hard, but adding sleep deprivation makes it unbearable. The heat, the insects, the moisture, and the ear piercing shrill of the Red-Throated Wood Rail! One morning I heard it and was furious. 'Enough!' I thought, 'I shall not let my life be contingent upon the feelings of some lousy fish-eating rail!'
'That horrid selfish thing!' I thought as I burst from my tent to confront my tormentor. I looked toward the origin of the screeching sounds, and seeing the bird, I felt my blood boil!"
"I immediately seized a near-by stone and hurled it at the bird." he said this cocking his arm back, miming the actions. He paused for a moment and took another swig of scotch.
"I hit it square" his voice had dropped so low I could barely hear it over the noise around me. I looked at the glass of liquor in his hand. It shook slightly.
"It seemed stunned for a moment, as if unsure of what had happened, or unable to conceive that such a thing had happened. Then, with a sad twitter, she flew away. Gone just like that...."
"I was filled with regret that night as I ate alone, straining to hear her song over the chirps and buzzing of insects. I remained at the campsite for another week, both grumbling over the annoyance of such a creature and lamenting the lose of its company. I would despise its weak constitution, and yet delight at the memory of its delicate beauty. Really, I was waiting for her to return. She never did though. She's gone forever. What I remember most fondly I think..." he added wistfully, "...was this one morning when I awoke and emerged from my tent....and there she was...looking at me... She looked at me with eyes of the most benevolent affection, just smiling at me..."
"Birds don't smile." I interjected.
He didn't respond. He just sat there staring off into the abyss again.
My phone rang. It was my wife.
"Will you excuse me? I really need to take this."
He still was staring, but nodded just slightly. I went outside.
"Hello...Oh just at the bar....yeah he's here with me....oh...oh my....well they had been fighting lately...he said a couple of weeks ago....well of course she says its all his fault....uh huh....no he hasn't mentioned anything about her. He's just been rambling on about doing research in the Amazon basin...Yeah I suppose that is a good sign...well I keep him company and see he gets a cab...ok...love you too...'night."
When I returned to my college he was looking the same as before. The same empty eyed stare. Then I complained about how obnoxious it is to have a wife who seemed to call at the most in opportune moments and the empty eyes filled with tears.
User Reviews
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2009-02-16 22:31:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
not horrible
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2009-02-16 12:06:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
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Submitted by spacemonkey (user info) at 2009-02-14 07:27:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
thats supposed to be colleague not college sorry folks
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2009-02-16 04:13:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by BranDo (user info) at 2009-02-15 23:33:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great stuff!!
Submitted by Shallabow (user info) at 2009-02-15 15:33:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Don't be afraid of commas, especially when you've got dense sentences like these.
All in all, possibly worth a few readthroughs.
Submitted by experima (user info) at 2009-02-14 15:26:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2009-02-14 10:36:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Read it twice. Well done.
Submitted by Vas_Deferens (user info) at 2009-02-14 07:56:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i had a college once and he was a stupid sports oriented co-ed lutheran school, i'm pretty sure he was a he because he kept giving me detention for not being big enough to play rugby like my first 15 outside back brother who had graduated the year before I arrived and was the tennis captain and even a better swimmer than me. A girl college wouldn't have behaved that way, except for mrs salter, she was only the maths/science faculty-head but she had some serious balls and you had to tip-toe around that bitch. The upside is that we're no longer colleges, we never were nor shall we be. fuck colleges, it's quality over quantity that's what *I* say.
Submitted by spacemonkey (user info) at 2009-02-14 07:27:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
thats supposed to be colleague not college sorry folks