A Town Called Murmuration

Rebys J. Hynes is an autistic, non-binary writer, curator and film programmer from Liverpool. They live in Glasgow with their partner and a perpetually overflowing bookshelf. Their work have been published in Transmuted, Changeling, Anarkiss and Words With Fangs.

Instagram: @rebysjhynes

Chlorine Jones (346, all pronouns), adventurer and explorer, passed away peacefully in their sleep last night, surrounded by family and lovers. She was known for her planet-hopping adventures and lavish lifestyle. Xe was

born during the Multiverse Wars and went on to fight oppression and tyranny across the seven galaxies. He is perhaps best known for killing the Void King and –

‘I was not a ‘he’ when I killed the Void King! You live all your life being – if I may say so – bloody  amazing and then the press don’t even have the decency to match the gender to the adventure.’ An hour trek from the raggedy town of Murmuration, on the cowboy planet Clementine, Theta  Jones pushed his grampix’ hoverchair through the desert. Since the morning broadcasts, Chlorine had  done little but complain about the mistakes made by her obituaries.  

‘You approved them all,’ said Theta. ‘You said, and I quote, ‘I want to see the tear-soaked comments of my adoring public before I pop my clogs!’’  

‘There’s a lot of comments but nothing with pizzaz. People are sad, but shouldn’t they be  devastated? Not a single day of mourning declared on any planet. Can you push a bit harder, son? I  want to get there before I die.’ Chlorine grumbled. ‘They didn’t even talk about when I toppled a  monarchy and became a queen. Different planets, same day!’  

Theta’s impulse was to tell his grampix that he had heard all these stories a million times before.  Then he remembered that this was the last time he would hear them told like this. From the source.  ‘It’s too hot,’ said Theta. ‘I haven’t seen a single animal since landing on this dustbowl. There’s  not even a bird in the sky. How do people survive here?’  

‘I said you’d regret binding for a pilgrimage, but did you listen? Do you know what your  problem is, boy? You’re too serious. You’ll never get a boyfriend if you can’t laugh at a shit situation.’  ‘I already have two boyfriends.’  

‘Well, you won’t get a third!’  

They trundled along in silence, until Theta asked. ‘Why do you want to become a bird,  Grampix?’ 

‘So I can shit wherever I want.’  

‘Classy.’  

‘I don’t wanna become just any bird. I wanna become part of all the birds.’ 

When his grampix called last week with ‘one last request’, Theta hadn’t expected it to involve  travelling across two galaxies to this backwater planet. Chlorine claimed to have finally found it. The  Flock. Theta wasn’t sure he believed xem. But the cancer covered enough of Grampix’s body that Theta  couldn’t say no to even the wildest of requests. Everyone deserves one last adventure. 

‘You believe there’s a flock of birds flying around the galaxy, pickin’ up the souls of the dying  and then – what? The souls ascend into birdhood?’ 

‘That’s what the legend says.’  

‘So, the afterlife is being a pigeon?’  

‘Nothing as mischievous or finite as that. Becoming part of the Flock is not heaven or hell. It’s  more of a right place, right time sort of situation. If you can track them down, they might consider your  application.’  

‘To become a pigeon?’  

‘To become a pigeon amongst a flock. Heard there’s plenty of legendary trans folk in there. I’ll  fit right in. My sources say that the Chevalier d’Eon is in there – as a heron! I hope I’m an owl. Would  love to turn my head right around.’’  

‘And how are you so sure that Clementine is a stop on the Flock’s journey?’  

‘Consider Murmuration.’  

‘The town? Bit of a dump if you ask me. Looked at us like they’d never seen trans people before. Thought you were wrong to tell me not to bring my stungun.’  

‘It was named by the birdwatchers who settled here eight-hundred years ago.’  ‘And?’  

Chlorine grinned mischievously. ‘C’mon. I can’t spell everything out for you when I’m not  there.’  

‘Oh.’ The barren sky. ‘No birds.’ 

‘Not a single flying animal on this entire planet.’  

‘Very good.’ After a few minutes, Theta asked, ‘Why me? You have almost a hundred  descendants. You could have called any of them.’  

‘We stop here!’  

Theta let go of the hoverchair.  

‘I must do the next part alone,’ ze declared. ‘The Flock do not like the smell of the living.’  ‘I’m to leave you here to either become a bird or die of heat exhaustion?’  

‘Off you trot, son.’  

Theta sighed. ‘I’m going to miss you, Grampix.’  

‘Bah. You’ll see me again.’  

‘What if you’re wrong?’ 

‘What if? Such a lazy question, unless you answer with ‘who cares?’  

‘One more story?’ asked Theta. ‘For old time’s sake?’  

‘Nah. I think I’ve had enough stories.’ His grampix’s pronoun badge fluctuated between every  option. In the end, Chlorine Jones was going to die as everything they ever were. ‘Hey, kidda. Wanna know the truth about all this. Why you? Why I wanna become a bird?  

‘Of course.’ 

‘I have lived a long life and I have been so many people. I have lived spectacularly. I have done  wonderful things.’ He prodded Theta’s shoulder playfully. ‘But I have yet to fly. I really want to try  flying. I reckon, one day, you will too.’  

Theta walked back towards the town called Murmuration and, at his Grampix’ request, didn’t  look back. He was close to his ship when suddenly a green crack ruptured through the orange sky, out  of which burst more birds than Theta believed the universe could hold. All moving as one. Leading the  murmuration, a heron.  

The torrent hurled out of town, then thundered back as quickly as it left. Townsfolk flooded  the street, crying in awe. Theta couldn’t help but join in.  

One of the birds shit on his shoulder. He need not look up to know the culprit was an owl.