The Rabbit's Wail

The Rabbit’s Wail 

“Sometimes I ask myself whether or not I’ve heard the shrill cry of a rabbit as it dies; I already know the answer; I have, but I feel I need to ask myself this just to remind myself where I’m from; to remind myself that, in the city, no ones heard that sound, or even cares.”

I teetered on my bed, slightly drunk, talking to myself, and imaging anyone responding.

“Yes,” I nodded to myself. “Yes I’ve heard that sound, and, uh, yep.”

I nodded like a fiend, agreeing fervently with myself before laying down to sleep, it was past two in the morning.

It’s not like I’m a morbid guy, it’s just… being from the country, that’s always been a pretty identifiable sound… and the fact that some people have never heard this cry – this shrill wailing that breaks through the ears like water freezing, splitting a rock, or freezing underground, creating hoarfrost… it is a very frozen sound, really – but the fact that some people haven’t hear it makes me feel as if perhaps I can’t connect with them. But then again, I’m not going to just ask anyone if they’ve heard a dying rabbit wailing… gosh that sounds eerie.

But it’s not like I’m a morbid guy, really. I don’t think so, at least.

“Usdan Reinstein, the morbid.” I muttered to myself from my bed, the vodka still swishing in my gut.

It’s just a strange phenomena, I suppose, the rabbit’s wail. You would never out right mention the wail itself, but it’s kind of assumed if you’re from the country, or at least rural New England, that you’ve heard this cry for help, this plea for death to come quicker than from the iron jaws of a coyote.

In the city, in Boston, there are no wails. There’s the screech of sirens and horns, the moaning of wind between concrete canyons, the dismal groaning of old metal skeletons; bridges, but it’s all alien. Sure everyone hears it, but it’s ignored; it’s just another irritation outside one’s own cares, it’s irrelevant.

The rabbit’s wail is different; it can’t be ignored. It’s held brutally in front of you, a bloody, wretched sound writhing in nightmarish squeals. As you lie alone in bed it’s the one thing keeping you awake, the one thing audible in the silent night.