Cemetery Dance<\/em> #4 (1990)<\/li>\n<\/ul>\nIt was also the 1-year annivTHE OLD: \u201cFour-In-Hand\u201d<\/b>ersary (12th installment) of <\/span>Exumed.<\/span><\/i> So for no other reason than that, you should check it out if you missed it. <\/span><\/p>\nThis month is the 13th installment of <\/span>Exhumed<\/span><\/i> and, as I promised last month, I present to you two Ronald Kelly stories. <\/span><\/p>\nLet\u2019s get to it\u2026<\/span><\/p>\nTHE OLD: \u201cBetter Than Breadcrumbs\u201d<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/CD2.jpg?resize=266%2C350&ssl=1\")
AUTHOR: <\/b>Ronald Kelly<\/p>\n
APPEARANCE:<\/b> Cemetery Dance #2 (<\/span><\/i>June, 1989)<\/span>\u00a0(Story #5 of 11)<\/span><\/p>\nPLOT (with spoilers!):<\/b><\/p>\n
The seed of Troy Saunders\u2019 fear of birds had been planted upon watching the famous Hitchcock film, and had worsened with each childhood nightmare over his formative years. As the fear blossomed with his own adolescence, Troy found an outlet for it all in simple cruelty: birds clipped of their wings and fed to the cat; his grandmother\u2019s canary drowned in dishwater; and so many birds blinded or otherwise maimed by his trusty BB gun. As he matured, Troy\u2019s maliciousness only became more sophisticated. Most recently, his college roommate at Georgia State came home one day to find his pet mynah had regurgitated its own entrails. Easily avoiding all suspicious, Troy had done the deed with a mixture of rat poison and Draino.<\/span><\/p>\nIt\u2019s now summertime and Troy is opting to go home to his parents\u2019 estate rather than head south to chase various tanned Florida girls. In fact, when his parents go to Atlanta for the day, it allows him to vent his sadistic tendencies without their overbearing shadows. <\/span><\/p>\nHe stretches out by the pool, lathered in sunscreen with a Coke and rum in one hand and his father\u2019s Weatherby in the other. <\/span><\/p>\nThe big-game rifle is heavy as he sights the little group of hungy, curious songbirds who have discovered his pie-plate offering of breadcrumbs and table scraps. <\/span><\/p>\nA shudder of revulsion runs down Troy\u2019s spine. He knows they only <\/span>appear <\/span><\/i>to be dumb. Just like they only <\/span>appear<\/span><\/i> content with sips of water, some sunflower seeds, or perhaps a juicy bug every so often. He knows that on the other side of their convincing facade they hunger for human flesh. <\/span><\/p>\nTroy is patient, however, in choosing his first victim. He hugs the gun \u201cclose like a blue steel lover, his finger resting lightly upon the hair trigger. With a small grin of cruel pleasure, he center(s) the crosshairs on a gray bird with white-tipped plumage and fire(s).\u201d The slug is a .458 Magnum and intended for elephants and buffalo. The bird instantly becomes a tangle of torn flesh and flying feathers. <\/span><\/p>\n\u201cYou are a very sick young man.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nThe voice comes from behind Troy and is dripping with disgust. This is Miguel, the old gardener who has been secretly watching Troy\u2019s exploits. <\/span><\/p>\nBut Troy isn\u2019t concerned. \u201cOh, you think so?\u201d he asks. <\/span><\/p>\n\u201cYes, I certainly do. Do you not know that it is a sin to kill a mockingbird?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nTroy wants to tell the old man to mind his own business but instead asks what his favorite bird is. \u201cFlamingo,\u201d Miguel answers, and goes on to describe its beauty, grace, and fragility. <\/span><\/p>\n\u201cI wish I had myself one of those fancy flamingos here right now,\u201d Troy tells him. \u201cI\u2019d take much pleasure in blowing its head clean off its skinny pink neck.\u201d Then he turns his empty gun towards the weathered old face of Miguel himself and adds: \u201cBang!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nMiguel\u2019s anger is matched only by his bravado. He threatens to tell Troy\u2019s parents of his actions. Troy, however, is not to be outmatched and retorts with a promise to have Miguel fired and his green card revoked. <\/span><\/p>\nThe old man shows only contempt on his face as he finally retires, allowing Troy to relax in the July sun, awaiting the eventual return of the curious birds. <\/span><\/p>\nBut Troy\u2019s patience proves to be unnecessary. Only a few minutes later, a loud \u201cCAW!\u201d announces the arrival of the biggest, blackest crow Troy has ever seen. <\/span><\/p>\nNot only is the crow enormous—eighteen inches from tip to stern—but it acts strange too. It first looks at the plate of bird-bait, then looks directly at Troy, its eyes \u201clike pools of liquid tar, possessing an almost taunting disdain.\u201d It caws again, grasps the rim of the plate with its beak, and flips the contents into the grass. <\/span><\/p>\nAppropriately egged on, Troy aims his elephant gun at the bird and fires. Only the giant slug missed somehow, even though Troy knew he had the thing dead to rights in his crosshairs. Stranger still, the crow didn\u2019t fly away at the sudden, offensive noise. So Troy reloads, aims more carefully, and fires again. Dust kicks the dirt several feet beyond the bird, which once again does not take flight. <\/span><\/p>\nEnraged, Troy curses and mutteres to himself as he reloads yet again. But when he raises his sight, the bird is gone, only to CAW! seconds later from directly behind him. In a flash the ugly thing is upon him, squawking and pecking and raking at his head with its sharp talons. Troy shrieks, stands to flee, becomes tangled in his lounge chair, and falls head-long into the pool. When he surfaces, the crow\u2019s echoing CAWs seem to mock him as it casually flies away. <\/span><\/p>\nLater that day, Troy is haunted by the humiliation of the event plus a bad sinus headache brought on by his drenching dump in the pool. Instead of going out drinking with his college buddies, he opts to lay down in his darkened bedroom instead. Through the door he can hear his parents\u2019 high-society party as he falls asleep. <\/span><\/p>\nHe dreams of birds, and as has been the case for so many years, it\u2019s a nightmare\u2026<\/span><\/p>\nHe is sitting on a bench facing a strangely familiar playground. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nChildren are singing an odd chant: \u201cRisselty-Rosselty, now-now-now\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\nSuddenly he knows where he is and sees the sign: \u201cBODEGA BAY SCHOOL\u201d. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nHe watches as a young woman—Tippi Hedren—sits at a bench opposite him and begins to smoke. Crows—first one, then two, then four—begin to land and rest on the jungle gym behind her. She does not notice. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nTroy wants to warn her but is immobile. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nBy chance Tippi looks up and follows a single black raven as it joins the other birds. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nTroy wants to tell her to go, to leave, to get up slowly and make her escape quickly before it\u2019s too late. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nFor a wonder, Tippi does get up and go inside the school. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nMoments later the children leave en masse, responding to an unheard call to come inside. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nThe birds take flight, but rather than attack the children as Troy is sure they will do, they turn as one, fly across the road, and head straight for him. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nTroy is frozen in place as they attack him, picking away skin and flesh and sinew, leaving nothing but his bones to sit on the bench. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\nTroy awakes with a scream. <\/span><\/p>\nHe takes several moments sitting on the edge of his bed to collect himself. It is then he notices the room is unnaturally dark. Black. <\/span><\/p>\nIt is also too quiet. Utterly silent despite the party he expects is still going on outside and below. <\/span><\/p>\nHe looks to his digital clock to see how late it is\u2026 but the red readout is gone. <\/span><\/p>\nTroy gets up, stumbles to the light switch on the wall, flicks it on, but sees no change. The world remains entirely, completely black. <\/span><\/p>\nThinking the power must be off, he works his way to the window, expecting to find it closed. He is surprised to feel and hear the warm, humid air flowing in through the open window. <\/span><\/p>\nHe reaches to his face and finds it wet with something warm and thick. <\/span><\/p>\nHis hands come away sticky. <\/span><\/p>\nHe realizes with shock and horror that it\u2019s blood. <\/span><\/p>\nTroy returns his hands reluctantly back to his face to examine the damage. His fingers \u201cabruptly discover the awful source of his nightblindness. They (sink) to the knuckles in gaping, warm-wet holes on either side of his nose. The frayed ends of severed optic nerves tease his fingertips\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n\u201cThey pecked out my freaking eyes!\u201d he screams. <\/span><\/p>\nPanic overcomes him. He stumbles to the hallway, to his parent\u2019s bedroom. There is nobody there. In fact, the bed itself is still made. No one has been there all night. <\/span><\/p>\nTroy staggers back into the hallway. From the stairs comes a rusty, shrill sound that turns his blood cold. <\/span><\/p>\n\u201cCAW!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\nHe reaches for and finds the heavy brass candlestick he knows is there, then throws it at the bird. It misses and hits the stain-glassed window, shattering it. <\/span><\/p>\nThe bird CAW!s again. Troy follows it downstairs. Follows it into his father\u2019s study. Follows it through the open glass doors onto the terrace. There he finally hears \u201cthe small sounds of mass movement\u201d that freezes him in place. <\/span><\/p>\nThe back yard is full of them, just like the playground at Bodega Bay. <\/span><\/p>\nTroy finds his nerve and dashes back inside the study. There he fumbles until he finds his father\u2019s antique gun case. Knowing the Weatherby isn\u2019t the right tool for this job, he soon finds the Remington pump-action shotgun. It does not take long to find the appropriate ammunition from the lower drawers of the cabinet. <\/span><\/p>\nTroy emerges onto the terrace and screams at the birds: \u201cHere I am, you filthy mothers! Come and get me!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nA CAW! inquires to his immediate right. Troy turns and fires. The sound of the dying squawk is followed by the patio table crashing to its side. <\/span><\/p>\nSuddenly the yard is hectic with sounds\u2026 cawing and flapping of airborn wings. Troy opens fire. He hears them cawing and falling to the ground. He fires again. He hears one fall with a giant splash into the pool. \u201c<\/span>Cripes, that must\u2019ve been a big one, <\/span><\/i>thought Troy with satisfaction.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nMore bird sounds, attempting escape. <\/span><\/p>\nThree more shotgun blasts. <\/span><\/p>\nHe works the slide of the gun and discovers he is out of ammo. But it no longer matters. The sounds in the yard are gone. He has somehow managed to get them all. Troy finds an overturned patio chair and sits in it in his new state of permanent darkness. Eventually, he hears the sounds of approaching sirens. <\/span><\/p>\n*<\/span><\/p>\nA policemen is talking to his partner. <\/span><\/p>\n\u201cIt\u2019s a real mess back there. Bodies all over the place. Looks like the kid went berserk\u2026 killed his folks and all their high-class friends.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nThe other patrolman looks at the young man who sits handcuffed in the rear of their squad car. \u201cMy eyes,\u201d the kid says. \u201cHow could they have done such a thing? My poor, poor eyes\u2026\u201d But the officer doesn\u2019t understand. The kids eyes look perfectly fine to him. \u00a0He figures the kid is a real nut case. <\/span><\/p>\nAnother officer continues his interview with the lone witness. Old Miguel answers the questions with sadness and horror: \u201cI ran from my bungalow\u2026 and there was young Mr. Troy, standing over all those poor people with a smoking shotgun.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nThe police continue with their formalities while Miguel slips away. As he turns the corner to his bungalow, he looks at the many bodies not with grief or shock, but an expression of great satisfaction. That and\u2026 just possibly\u2026 hunger. <\/span><\/p>\nThe old man lifts his eyes\u2026 eyes as black and shiny as those of a raven\u2026 and whispers one word: \u201cCaw.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nThe birds suddenly descend from the trees. Thousands of them. A massive, churning flock of all colors and species, but with a single-minded goal. They know it will take a good twenty minutes or more for the others arrive. Until then, it will be \u201ca far better feast than that which mere breadcrumbs could provide.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\nMY GRADE: A-<\/b><\/p>\n
MY REVIEW:<\/b><\/p>\n
What we have in Ronald Kelly\u2019s \u201cBetter Than Breadcrumbs\u201d is a classic psychological horror tale. The question we have, though, is whether or not it is also <\/span>supernatural<\/span> in its nature. <\/span><\/p>\nDid the birds Troy sees and hears during his killing spree ever exist? <\/span><\/p>\nOr were they only in his mind? <\/span><\/p>\nDid they consciously goad and guide him into his actions? <\/span><\/p>\nOr is he just a crazy guy who is misinterpreting everything to suit his various paranoias? <\/span><\/p>\nWe are never given a clear answer. In fact, there is plenty of evidence to support both perspectives. <\/span><\/p>\nFirst, the supernatural perspective\u2026 <\/b><\/p>\n
In this interpretation, the birds really are out to get Troy, and have been his entire life. They\u2019ve been there since his childhood, always watching with their beady, black eyes. Always waiting for the perfect moment to strike. They\u2019ve tried it at least once—though unsuccessfully—in the past at the playground from his nightmare. And at the end of the story they\u2019ve finally succeeded. <\/span><\/p>\nAdditionally, Old Miguel is actually a shapeshifter, specifically the very crow who coaxes Troy to fall into the pool and ultimately orchestrates his murderous rampage. There is plenty of evidence for this as well:<\/span><\/p>\n\n- Miguel first sees, then comments on, Troy\u2019s bird-shooting actions, but disappears before the crow in question arrives.<\/li>\n
- The crow was unnaturally (super<\/i>naturally?) large.<\/li>\n
- The crow avoids not one but two point-blank shots from Troy\u2019s elephant gun.<\/li>\n
- The crow behaves in an oddly human way: it tosses aside Troy\u2019s plate of bait food; it doesn\u2019t take flight at the sound of the gun; it waits until Troy is looking down to reposition itself behind him.<\/li>\n
- In the story\u2019s final scene, he has the ability to communicate directly with the many birds in the trees surrounding the Saunders\u2019 home\u2026 calling them to come and feast before the rest of the authorities arrive and clean up the mess.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
Next, the realistic fiction perspective\u2026<\/b><\/p>\n
The basis of this version of the story is that Troy is simply nuts and everything he sees and hears is either grossly misinterpreted or entirely fabricated from his own twisted mind. Evidence here includes:<\/span><\/p>\n\n- There is a juxtaposition between Troy\u2019s belief <\/i>that his eyes have been plucked out and the reality, which according to the police officers is that his eyes are fine. Even if the birds themselves are supernatural, the suggested explanation is that Troy is crazy.<\/li>\n
- Troy also mistakes his parents and their friends for many dozens of birds he thinks are out to kill him. Throughout his killing spree, we only ever hear what he hears\u2026 the sounds of fluttering wings and the cawing of the birds. But in two instances he also hears something that doesn\u2019t make sense if it were mere birds:\n
\n- The large splash in the pool that supposedly comes from a bird is distinct and strange enough to convince even Troy to exclaim \u201cThat must have been a big one.\u201d (It wasn\u2019t a bird\u2026 it was a human, Troy. Duh.)<\/li>\n
- The first \u201cbird\u201d Troy kills upon stepping onto the terrace makes the sound of a dying squawk, followed immediately by the patio table crashing to its side. While Troy doesn\u2019t notice the oddity of this combination, we readers are left wondering how a bird falling a mere few feet could not simply crash into or even through<\/i> a patio table, but knock it over<\/i>. Answer: it can\u2019t\u2026 because it\u2019s a human, and not a bird.<\/li>\n
- But my favorite example supporting the \u201crealism\u201d perspective comes from Old Miguel. He could, in fact, simply be an old man who likes birds, hates the Saunders family (Troy, especially), and knows the eyes and guts of the party guests will make a tasty snack. Kelly even delineates Miguel\u2019s final spoken word: it is not the literal sound from the birds themselves (\u201cCAW!\u201d) but the human equivalent (\u201cCaw.\u201d) instead.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n
Either perspective works, and as happens in any decent horror tale, readers get to make their own choices as to what really happened. <\/span><\/p>\nBut there is one critical element to the story I\u2019ve glossed over until now, and it just might be what helps you to make your own decision: Troy\u2019s past. <\/span><\/p>\nWe know from the opening line that Troy\u2019s fear of birds originated when he saw Alfred Hitchcock\u2019s \u201cThe Birds\u201d at a very young—and, we assume, far <\/span>too<\/span><\/i> young—age. From there he has nightmares and experiments with torturing various birds. Coupled with even more years of growing insanity plus the temerity and freedom provided by young-adulthood, he cracks. But what <\/span>about <\/span><\/i>those nightmares? What about the one that appears—in quite a bit of detail, I might add—in the middle of the story? Whenever an author takes the time and space to add something that seems out of place (or in the very least, relatively unimportant), I always think of it with a natural suspicion. <\/span><\/p>\nWHY did Kelly include so many specific details of Troy\u2019s nightmare at the playground outside the Bodega Bay School? It\u2019s safe to say the school itself, Ms. Tippi Hedren (presumably his teacher), and probably even a handful of birds sitting on the wires above the playground were actual memories from Troy\u2019s childhood. But did they actually attack him? Maybe only <\/span>one <\/span><\/i>bird attacked him. Maybe one simply swooped a little closer than he\u2019d been ready for. And had little Troy already seen Hitchcock\u2019s film by then? Or did the day at the playground come first and the film came afterwards? Which event\u2019s ramifications was sparked by the other? Does it even matter? <\/span><\/p>\nAnd yet his past include another, possibly even bigger underlying factoid which is never directly stated in the story: Troy\u2019s relationship with his parents. <\/span><\/p>\nThink about it. And remember that every detail the author provides <\/span>
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