Theo nods. “I didn’t all the way believe it. But then, the dance… it was magical.”
“Yep.”
“What’s your favorite bird dance?”
“California Condor. Huge, ugly, awkward vultures. We dance it in the Narrows of Zion. There’s something about that bird. Some say it’s the little sister to the Thunderbird.”
“What’s that?”
“A big old vengeful bird that stirred up storms with the beat of his wings. A birds that carries lightning bolts in his beak, at least that’s what the Lakotan Indians say.” I pat Theo on the back. He’s okay. Sometimes you dance with a man, and you know you don’t like him, plain and simple. But Theo’s all right.
Yellowstone has fixed us up a huge dinner set up at one of their picnic table, and we eat like starving men. Like birds a long time between meals. There are platters of fat burgers with all the condiments; three kinds of slaws—red, white and green; potato salad with plenty of hard boiled eggs; and my favorite, this kind of chocolate cake that is gooey in the middle like they put the frosting on the inside.
We eat and eat and there is a light that shines out from each of us. They’ve genmodded us into gods, and here at American Valhalla, they feed us well.
Our Sponsor pops up out of nowhere, and his men follow behind him like a long dark shadow. He yanks everything good out of the day as he looks us over proudly. He plunks down different products on the table—sparkle ketchup, muscle-grow lotion, and bird-men model kits. One of his men sets up lights over the table and starts taking pictures. I look over at Theo in the washed out light and it hurts. I see all his pride turning into shame. For the first time he’s realizing how the bird parts embedded into him exists to make money. Tie-ins, tell-alls, television, action figures, and that’s not to mention all the tax write-offs our owner gets for having us dance at national parks. I lose my appetite as the Sponsor sits down at our table.
“How’s the ride, boys? Any problems?” His men check our bikes and start resupplying them with provisions. “I brought you a surprise.” The way he says it, I just know it’s gonna be nasty.
One of his men brings old Ray to the table. Cruel. Being here and seeing us remind Ray of all the things he’s lost. It’s been ten years since he last rode with us, and the years have not been kind. His red face is weather burned and even though he wears a big smile, I can see it’s all uneasy sleep and hardship underneath. All ache inside to migrate, even though his body can’t make it anymore.
“Hi boys.” His southern drawl reminds me of all the good rides and dances we had. It makes me uneasy. I liked Ray. Hell, we all did.
“Hi Ray, have a seat. Have some food. Plenty of it,” I say.
He sits down next to me. I glare at the Sponsor until he leaves our table. He stays within earshot, of course.
“How you been?” I ask.
Bleak eyes with a migrator’s wide pupils meet mine, then dart away. Behind us I hear one of the geysers—probably Old Faithful—explode upwards as people clap and yell.
Ray takes a burger and studies it like maybe the answer is written on it. He sighs and says, “Couldn’t be better. Best thing I ever did was quit the ride.”
“Yeah, you look happy. You heard about Siv? That’s why you’re here, right?” I ask.
“Shame, that. Should have stopped while he could.”
Everyone’s looking at me and stuffing food into their mouths so they won’t have to talk. Thanks, boys.
“He died well,” I say, easy as I can. “I visited Jenny and his three kids. They’re doing just fine, set up in Texas on an old sheep ranch.”
“It’s not worth it to die for the pension,” Ray says loudly. Behind him the Sponsor looks smug. “A man should get to live after all that providing. He shouldn’t have to die just to get his family taken care of. Hell, they give me plenty of money to live on.”
“You call what you’re doing living, Ray?” I say real quiet, just between him and me.
“The operation worked fine. They were able to reverse all the changes. I live like a normal man, Josiah. You should try it.”
As clear as the bird eyes on his face, I know he’s lying. I forgive him, because it’s probably one of the things the Sponsor wants him to say.
“You want to give it all away? You want to die just so your wife can have nice things?” Ray asks.
It’s a good thing he’s old and ragged. I remember that he never got on so well with his wife. The woman was always angry at him for migrating, and could never forgive him for it during the months in between.
“That’s why you’re being paid to talk to us, Ray, because you don’t need money? Where’re you living?”
He looks down at his old man hands with dirt in the creases. “Here and there.”
“You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, Ray, but don’t come around here questioning any migrator’s decision, and don’t ever talk bad about Siv again. He was a great rider.”
“He was a fool.”
“Leave. Now.”
The Sponsor follows Ray, then calls back to us, “See you in Utah, boys.”
That night, sitting around a good smelling cedar campfire, we talk about Siv. Theo sits next to me and does a good job of listening, for once. Maybe too good, like he’s trying to memorize it to tell the Sponsor.
“Remember when Siv talked us into a detour up into the Rockies where he heard some raptors were nesting?” Scotty asks.
Chuckles all around.
“Four migrations back. We lost four days chasing those imagined birds,” Hector explains for Theo’s sake. “Everyday uphill on crap roads, too. Siv was crazy for nature.”
“One time he talked us all into doing peyote so we could really know what it felt like to fly,” I say. “Three of us almost jumped off a cliff.”
“Josiah got so paranoid he tried to set our bikes on fire. And we all saw these huge birds, big as cars, circling over us in the sky, black as midnight, spookiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Hector adds.
“Two days of headaches and diarrhea after that, and Siv wanted us to trip again, this time with mushrooms.” Scotty laughs.
“He was a good man to have on the ride,” I say.
“The best.”
We get all quiet, maybe remembering the last time we were with him and what we had to do.
“What was Ray like?” Theo asks.
“Good enough.” Damn fine, truth be told, but hell if any of us were going to reminisce about him.
“He doesn’t look good,” Scotty says. “I bet he regrets his decision.”
“What decision?” Theo asks.
Silence all around.
It falls on me to talk to him, although he probably knows damn well what we are hinting at. Hector and Scotty make a fire and everyone is real quiet as I talk.
“Why’d you join us, Theo?”
“I’ve always wanted to dance. No money for dance anywhere else.”
“No, not the reason you told the Sponsor. The real reason. You’ve got a big family, lots of siblings, probably, and maybe a girlfriend who wants to get married and have kids soon. That about right?”
He nods.
“All of us do, and the contract states that we’ll get our fat paychecks so long as we migrate. Hell, in this economy, it’s impossible to turn it down. But when we quit, our pension is set at five percent, nothing more. Maybe one man can live on that, but not well.”
He nods again vaguely. He’s young and will stay that way forever right?
“So long as we ride everyone is happy and you get to be the man that brings them security. You quit and your bird parts are telling you to go, only your body’s crap and you’re too poor to own a decent bike. What do they give you? Five percent of your wage, for the rest of your life. But under Federal law, if you are genetically modified and die on the job, they have to pay a lump sum of ten year’s wages. Simple as that.”