Avian Adventures

 

My father had moved us into THE DALTON, an old well-kept building on Central Park West. The edifice included a beautiful view of the park which was across the avenue, and on the top corner of the building was the sculpture of an eagle with outstretched wings feathered back horizontally across the sides of the building.

The eagle stared forward, eyes fixed on the park, presumably searching for stone rabbits to snatch up and eat. Our apartment, Suite 67A was on the top floor of the building and the eagle was above that just below the grey slate roof.

My father had researched the building at the New York Historical Society, and found out that the architect a Wilhelm Strauss was an interesting character, being an architect, sculptor and dabbler in the occult. The records showed that there were many strange sculptures decorating the building and a new owner, while exploring the halls, might easily come face to face with some grotesque creation of Mr. Strauss. The eagle previously referenced sat above an inscription carved in stone which read in German: LEBEN aus dem Vollmondicht which meant, Life from the Full Moon’s Light. The record went on to say that Mr. Strauss believed that reciting this phrase by the light of the full moon would bring the stone eagle to life. I laughed at the naive story, forgetting the far-fetched tale in time.

One evening at dusk I was standing at my bedroom window, gazing at the luscious green park and noticed that above the trees, a full moon was rising with the bright glow of the sun’s reflected light. It was then that I remembered the German phrase that my father had read of, and said it out loud.”LEBEN aus dem Vollmondicht!”

Momentarily, it seemed as if the eagle’s head began to turn away from its stony eternal gaze on the park and as the stone frayed and crumpled about the neck of the beast, the flinty dust fluttered down to the ground. The eagle turned rapidly and stared directly at me. Panicking, I dove for the bed, sliding under the cool clean sheets and piled the heavy wool blankets over my head and fell into a deep sleep, having convinced myself that this was a nightmare.

During the night a scratching noise invaded my slumber, sounding like a windswept tree branch, or a diamond cutting a glass panel. I peered out of my covers to painfully see a huge bird’s head against my window pane, his sharp, dangerous talons scratching my window. I summoned my courage knowing that it was my fault and responsibility that the enormous bird had come to life.

“Good evening young man, I was wondering if you have any dead rats lying around that I might nosh on, having just awakened from a long slumber,” said the Eagle.

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t have any as they are not part of our diet, but I can see what we have in the freezer,” I stammered.

“That would be most kind. I’ll wait here on your balcony,” said the eloquent bird.

A quick vision of the enormous creature trampling through the apartment and destroying everything in its path, and pushing itself through the tight space motivated me to move quickly. I found a frozen steak in the freezer which I quickly brought out to him.

“Excellent young man, what is your name?” asked the Eagle.

“Robert, sir,” I answered with some trepidation.      

“My name is Zeus, and you may address me in this way.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Zeus”

The Eagle was clearly alive but his feathers still looked like stone with a gravelly grey pigment in their design.

“Would you like a ride in exchange for this excellent meal that you have provided me with?” asked the Eagle.

“Yes Zeus!” I said with excitement.

“This bodes well for you in life as you are clearly suppressing your fear of me,” said the observant bird.

“Climb on my back and I will give you a tour of your city. Hold on tight to my quills.”

I opened the window and stepped out on the stone balcony, climbing on his back and grabbing two of the large quills, one in each hand, quivering with excitement.

“Calm down,” said Zeus. “You are shaking like a scared rabbit!”

In a moment we were airborne, the twenty foot wings extending out and lifting the bird as he pushed off the balcony railing with his huge sharp talons.

We flew over the West Side Highway staring at the twinkling lights of New Jersey and down past Washington Square Park, over Staten Island then diving under the Verrazano Bridge, and soaring up on our way past the Coney Island Rollercoaster in Luna Park and on to the Rockaways, my knuckles turning white from my grip.

“Now for some excitement!” said the massive avian soaring to a great height and ruffling his feathers.

I, having lost my grip tumbled head over heels, one minute staring at the full moon and stars, and the next at the rapidly approaching ocean surface. With the precision of a surgeon, I was plucked up by the huge talons as the ocean approached grabbing the shoulders of my robe with a strength that it would be impossible to resist, soaring back up into the heavens.   

“Very exciting, but please do not do it again!” I exclaimed.

Zeus laughed a good hearty laugh. Next, we flew over Rockefeller Center admiring the dazzling Christmas tree.

“I’m not fond of my likeness picking at the liver of Prometheus. It makes me look like the villain after I specifically told him not to give fire to man. He deserved my punishment!” said the annoyed predator. “Bad press, very bad press, but that is a discussion for another day!”

 We finished our tour gliding past the bright lights of LaGuardia Airport, over the Whitestone Bridge turning left at Fort Tyrone Park, soaring over the medieval Cloisters and back down Amsterdam Avenue, landing on my balcony, Suite 67A.

I thanked the Eagle for my adventurous night and promised to awaken him again on the next full moon. The eagle flew over to his corner of the building settling himself and waited for the first slivers of dawn’s light, to metamorphose him back to stone.

We went on many adventures through the years until I grew too large for these excursions. I informed a younger, slighter boy named Peter in the building of my adventures, and explained how to bring the Eagle to life. His father owned a chain of butcher shops and had a well-stocked freezer in his apartment. His cook would never miss the packages and Peter would never forget this experience.

 

Jim

Jan 2021