Edgar & Lily

First Ravens

A Masculinist Hegemony

by Kim Falconer

 

Edgar’s Door

  
     
     Edgar hides behind a door that isn’t there.
         It hasn’t been there for ages.
              Nothing’s been there for ages, 
         except the strange warm fog of his selective memory 
              that happens to include a door.
          Behind it, he hides.
     It’s his barricade against all things out of reach. 

Edgar & Lily

	
	Lily ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. 
	
	“Edgar,” she called out as she reached the bedroom door. “You still working?”
	
	She tried the knob. 
	
	“Eddy?”
	
	Morning light streamed into the hallway from a high window. It filtered through 
	
   pine branches, making speckles of gold play over laundry piled in the middle of 
	
   the floor. She stared at it for a moment before turning back to the door.
	
	“Breakfast’s ready . . . Edgar?” 
	
	She knocked on the door.
	
	“In a sec,” he said. “I’m just finishing.”
	
	She pictured him, hunched at his desk, hands curled over the keyboard, talking to 
	
   her out the side of his mouth.
   
	“Great . . .” she whispered.
	
	Lily bent to scoop up the dirty clothes and headed towards the stairs. She 
	
   reached the landing and hesitated before going back to the door. 
   
	She tapped, clutching the laundry against her hip like a child. 
	
	“Eddy? Please come. You’ve been at it all night.” 
	
	“Won’t be much longer . . .” 
	
	She pursed her lips and blew stray hair off her forehead.
	
	“I’ll keep it warm then?” 
	
	She listened, her ear against the door. The keyboard clicked away, snapping 

   out a steady rhythm. She closed her eyes, lulled by the drone of his fingers 
   
   at work. 
   
	“I’ll keep it warm,” she repeated, “if you . . .”
	
	She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes darting to the window. 
	
	A sudden movement made the pine branch sway, light chasing shadow all around 
	
   the hall. 
   
	“You’re back,” she said, a red sock falling from her grip as she straightened. 
	
	A raven perched above her, his head cocked to the side, pale eye unblinking. The 
	
   sun in his feathers made him shine like mother of pearl. As his black legs tightened 

   their grip, he opened his mouth, flapped his wings and let out a raucous caw, loud 
   
   even through the thick glass.
   
	Lily smiled at him before bending to retrieve the sock. She took a last look at 
	
   the bedroom door and went back down the stairs, taking them one at a time.
   
	Ca-caw rauk. The raven’s voice filled the stairwell.
	
	“Yeah, I know,” she whispered. “Evermore . . .”