February 2017
David Huddle
dhuddle@uvm.edu
dhuddle@uvm.edu
Half a dozen summers ago, teaching a writing workshop at the Bread Loaf School of English, in Barn East, a classroom with a wall of windows on one side, I opened the door to let in cool air, and after a few minutes, two swallows flew into the room, circled overhead, then began frantically scrabbling against the glass windows. One of the students Annie Hartnett--a prose writer with a first novel (Rabbit Cake) just now coming out--helped me catch the swallows, just as it’s described in the poem below. She and I carried the birds around the classroom tables for the other students to see up close, then we carried them outside to the edge of the meadow and let them go. It was such an exhilarating experience that I’ve also written a short story about it. So far as I know, Annie hasn’t written about it, but I won’t be surprised if, sometime in the future, I see her version of the experience in a novel or a short story.
Before Swallows Flew Into Ms. Hicks’s
summer camp classroom Hazel Hicks knew
herself to be a child like other children
as ants know they are like other ants &
it was so hot that day Miss Childress
propped the door open hoping for cool air
but what she got was two barn swallows
swooping into the room like little souls
frantic to find the bodies they’d fallen
from Ms. Hicks thinks now that the memory
has her in its spell & the children put
their hands over their heads & squealed
while the birds rocketed against the wall
of windows but Miss Childress sat calmly
& watched the creatures a little crooked
smile on her face which was probably what
freed Hazel not to be afraid as the other
children were but to sit still even though
excitement and pleasure kept ricocheting
through her body & Miss Childress wanted
her help & they both felt something those
others couldn’t feel & when Miss Childress
stood up slowly so as not to panic the birds
even more Hazel stood up too & moved with
Miss Childress toward the windows against
which the swallows flung themselves & flapped
their pointy little wings & Miss Childress
raised her hands toward one & Hazel raised
her hands toward the other & they kept
moving slowly & calmly Hazel knowing to do
just what her teacher was doing--She was
only 16 then Ms. Hicks thinks now Not that
much older than I was--Hazel was 9 & this
was the wildest moment of her life & yet
she & her teacher were moving so slowly &
carefully it was like a dream & Hazel was
the first to trap a swallow down in the
lower corner of the window and catch it
in her hands--Yes, she did that!--then
Miss Childress caught the other one & she
carried hers to the table to show the other
children & Hazel followed her the little
birds’ heads sticking up out of their cupped
hands the other children put their faces
right up to the birds’ heads & Hazel felt
that swallow’s heart thrumming in her palms
& she followed Miss Childress outside into
the heat & light & they looked at each other
& Miss Childress had that crooked grin on
her face & Hazel felt her own face smiling
& they put their cupped hands close to each
other so that the birds’ beaks almost touched
& Miss Childress raised her eyes to the sky
just a split second & whispered “On 3” & she
counted & they lifted their hands & opened
them palms up & Miss Childress shouted Go!
& the swallows zoomed up & out into the light
& Hazel Hicks may not have understood exactly
what had happened to her in those minutes but
--& Ms. Hicks still feels it in her body—
that was the instant that child became herself.
©2016 David Huddle
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