The Inherent Danger of Finding a Thesis Project

If you hear a soft, high-pitched singing in the park at 6 am, you shouldn’t go towards it. And if you do go towards it, you definitely shouldn’t get within arm’s length of a bag with a disembodied singing voice. And if you do get that close, you should never ever touch it.

But, if you are a magical creatures bio major in desperate need of a thesis project, what you should do is not often what you do. Which is why, when Addie heard an almost subsonic melody on her morning run through the local park, she didn’t heed the “Moving to the City, Everything You Need to Know About Avoiding the Fae and Other Untrustworthy Sorts” pamphlet’s advice and ignore it. Rather, she stopped, took out her earbud, and listened.

What kind of bird could make that sound? Was it a nymph’s song maybe? No one else in my thesis class has chosen anything to do with nymphs yet, this could be it! A topic! Or a cool picture for Instagram.

The jogging path wound through a patch of trees, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Addie rounded the corner. The song was coming from a sticky, knotted pine tree, a little right of the path. But there wasn’t anyone there.

Even nymphs aren’t able to render themselves invisible. A faery maybe? But faeries usually hide at the first sign of a human, except in the deepest and oldest of forests.

At the base of the tree, an old, black, duffle bag slouched against the trunk. The duffle bag was singing? Or playing music? Addie didn’t know. And while what Addie didn’t know may not kill her, it would definitely keep her up at night and cause her to annoy her professors and roommate.

Picking up a stick, Addie poked gently at the bag. When the bag did not immediately explode, bite, or otherwise try to maim her, she poked harder. The singing hadn’t stopped, the bag hadn’t moved, nothing had happened.

“So not the fae folk’s then,” Addie said aloud, “since they didn’t attack me when I started messing with their shit.”

Looking around, Addie saw no one apart from a lone figure on a bench some 15 yards away, writing or drawing in what appeared to be a small black notebook, or sketchbook? Regardless, they were scribbling away.

“Excuse me, Ma’am? Sir? Is this yours?” Addie called.

The figure looked up.

“Do you know who’s this is?” Addie tried again.

“Who’s what is?” came the reply.

“This bag, the one the music is coming from?”

“Bag? My bag’s here on the bench with me.”

“Oh, ok. Sorry to bother you!” Addie called back. The figure resumed their scribbling.

Addie turned back to the duffle. Am I the only one who can see and hear this bag? I’m not hallucinating, am I? Taking out her phone, Addie turned on the flashlight and started recording a video of the bag, hoping her phone’s microphone was picking up the music.

“The time is just after 6 am on September 14th,” Addie spoke into her phone. “I’ve found this strange duffle bag with music coming out of it in the middle of the park and the person sitting on the bench may or may not be able to see it too? I am now going to open the bag and see what’s singing.”

Maybe some cruel kids trapped a rare bird, or a naiad, or faery, or other wood dweller and it needs help getting free?

Addie reached down, angling her phone to get a good view of the opening as she slowly, carefully, unzipped the bag.

Addie gasped. Instead of a bird or a sprite, inside the bag was a large pile of gold coins.

There must be what, ten? Twenty thousand dollars here? Who leaves this much money in a bag in the middle of the fucking park? Addie looked around, the figure on the bench the only other person there. The figure who was now diligently tearing out pages of their notebook and folding them into…paper hats? And they were staring at her from the corner of their eye. Creep.

Turning back, Addie spoke again into her phone, “As you can see, there is gold in the bag, and either the bag appears to be singing or the money is. Either way, as no one is here to claim it, I will be taking it back to the lab and running some tests.”

Some tests into how fast I can pay off my student loans.

“It’s possible this may be the work of some vagrant leprechaun, though I’ve not heard of them enchanting their money to sing before.” Addie reached down to grab a piece of the gold to inspect it more closely. However, when her fingers made contact with the gold, it shocked her, knocking her backwards into the pine needles and grass, sending her phone flying.

“Ow!” She squawked.

She reached for her phone and instead got a view full of shiny, black, feathers. “What the fuck?” Addie said. Or, tried to say. Instead, what she said, was “CAW.”

Looking frantically around, Addie saw a tail of feathers, claws where her neon green running shoes had been, and most importantly, wings where her arms should be.

I’m a fucking CROW!?! How the hell am I supposed to write my thesis now? Or make espresso during my shift? Would they even let me in the door? Which, in retrospect, was honestly a silly question, because witches brought their familiars into the cafe all the time and no one batted an eye. An image popped into Addie’s head of a crow wearing a tiny little apron, tapping away on the register, greeting the customers as they came in, teasing their cats. Addie laughed? Squawked? Crowed? She hadn’t yet learned the terms for crow languages in her “Intro to Familiars’ Linguistics” elective.

But what about my cat? Will he even like me now?

And now how am I going to get this money home and pay my rent and student loans?

Wait…

Birds.

Don’t.

Have.

Student.

Loans.

BIRDS DON’T HAVE STUDENT LOANS!!!

They probably don’t pay rent either…at least my roommate’s parakeet doesn’t, the little freeloader.

Addie celebrated, flapping her wings wildly and cawing.

But Addie’s dance was cut short when, in the middle of a spin, she saw the figure from the bench shuffling hurriedly towards her, looming, dragging their cloak, terrifying.

Was it their bag after all? What are they? I’ve got to get away. But my legs are tiny. Wait, wings! Can I actually fly? Can’t hurt to try!

Addie flapped her wings and took off as fast as she could towards a nearby tree with a few, moderately low hanging branches.

“Wait! Come back! I need to ask you a few questions!” The shuffling figure called after her.

What could they possibly want to know? Addie thought as, flapping as hard as she could, she just made it to the lowest branch. Ow, ok, so it can hurt to try. I didn’t even know I had those muscles! Well… Addie spread her wings, thinking through what she remembered of their anatomy. Oh.

So this was all a trap? Fuck them. I can’t actually be a crow, I have to feed my cat and get my degree, and if I can’t even get the money? Fuck.

From her perch on the branch, Addie glared as the figure came to a stop below her, a suspicious looking stick peeking out of one of their robe’s pockets.

A wand.

This person was a witch!

How DARE they.

Addie erupted, “Was that your bag after all? Fuck you! Is the money even real? I’ve been nothing but kind to witches. I even work at one of the witch-friendly cafes downtown. And you had the nerve to curse me? With no warning? This is why everyone’s always so scared of you! Now I probably can’t even pet my cat and he’s going to be so lonely and eat all of my plants out of spite! Spite!”

Addie drew in a deep breath, preparing to continue.

“But I just have some questions for you,” the witch tried again, cutting her off.

“You can understand me?” Addie asked, shocked, anger dissipating slightly with the prospect of answers.

“Well yeah, it’s kinda required for witches to understand the language of their familiar.” The witch guestured, as a crow, slightly larger than Addie, landed and settled on a branch not two feet away from her.

Addie eyed the crow warily. It wore a tiny, paper hat.

“Now for my questions?” the witch tried again.

“Your questions?” asked Addie, now feeling small and wholly outmatched at facing both a witch and their familiar.

“Yes, you see my thesis advisor is on my back about my lack of data and has already been threatening to reject my thesis on ethical grounds if I don’t get my subjects to sign a waiver.” The witch answered, opening their black notebook, an origami frog falling to the ground and hopping away. “So how old are you?”

“Ok fine. 26.” Addie answered.

“Race?”

“Technically I’m half-human, half-faun, but I got the human half.”

“Magical alignment?”

“Alchemic.”

“Occupation?”

“Part-time barista, full-time university student.”

“Oh cool! Me too! The student part I mean. Where do you go to school?” The witch asked, excitement creeping into their voice.

“Central City University?”

“Really? Me too! OMG, this is perfect! We should totally hang out sometime!”

Addie held up her wings, flapping them slightly, “We could but…”.

“Oh right! Sorry about that, uh, don’t worry, it’s not permanent. Anyways, what were your initial thoughts about being turned into a crow?”

“Panic?” Addie answered, “I have work later.”

“Oh, interesting! I thought I saw you doing a little dance?”

Addie blushed, “Well yeah, birds don’t have to pay student loans.”

The witch laughed at that, “Touché. Ok, I have just one more question. What were you going to do with your new identity as a crow?”

Addie blinked. “Eat worms? I hadn’t gotten that far. You chased me.”

“Oh sorry.” The witch only looked the slightest bit sorry. “It’s just that most people ignore strange singing objects so I was super excited to finally have a participant!”

“I wonder why they do,” Addie mumbled.

“Ok, that’s all I had, you can come down now,” the witch said, “oh, and please sign this waiver.” The witch pulled a paper and pen from their robe.

Addie flapped down to the ground, a shock running through her body as she found herself standing eye to eye with the witch.

Human again.

Addie signed the offered waiver and handed it back to the witch.

“Thank you so much for helping me,” said the witch. “Most people fly away from me completely and have to wait for the enchantment to wear off the next day. I lose a lot of test subjects that way.”

“That sounds rough. So, what’s your project?” Addie asked.

“I’m an experimental psychology major so my thesis is on ‘The Generational Differences in Reactions to Unforeseen Enchantments,’ it’s wordy, I’m working on it. You?”

“Biology of magical creatures, I want to be a vet.” Addie answered. “What time is it?”

“Almost 7?”

“Oh, shit! I’ve gotta go, I’m gonna be late!”

“Oh, ok. Bye! And thanks again!”

“No problem!” Addie raced back to the pine tree and grabbed her phone from the ground, leaving the witch standing in the park, looking pleased.

If you hear soft, high-pitched singing in the park you shouldn’t go towards it, and you should never ever touch the singing object.

But, if you are a magical creatures bio major in desperate need of a thesis project, having the opportunity to spend a day as a crow seems interesting enough to catch the eye of veterinarian school admissions counselors. Which is why, two days later, Addie returned to the park in search of the duffle bag.