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The Adventures of Burton and Bernice

John Duncklee

    The two buzzards were members of a flock of buzzards that were soaring through the sky searching for carrion. But, there was something special about these two. They had paired, but so did others. They flew together, but so did others. They could communicate, but not like others. They could actually speak. They could also read. However, they never learned to write.
    Burton and Bernice Buzzard were deeply in love, and shared every moment of their lives together, whether it was soaring looking for carrion, or making a nest for the winter in Mexico. They had seen a lot from their vantage point high in the sky, and their memories served them well. So, when their eggs hatched they had lots of bedtime stories to tell their children.
    One of their favorite stories happened one day when they were checking out an airport terminal because the newspaper they had found had headlines about a jet passenger plane that had crashed on landing. That information led them to believe that there would be plenty for them to feast on at the site of the crash. But, as they swooped down Burton saw a sign just outside the entrance to the terminal. He had flown by quickly and had seen three words “Carry-on Luggage”.
    Look Bernice,” he said. “There’s a sign back there that says they have carrion.”
    “Burton, I saw that sign and it didn’t say ‘Carrion’, it said ‘Carry-on’. The spelling is quite different. The carrion we are looking for doesn’t have a ‘Y’ in it.”
    “How do you know all that stuff, Bernice?” Burton asked.
    “You must have forgotten that I taught English before I met you. I’ll never forget that school after the President of the United States had made an edict about “No Child Left Behind”. I damn near starved to death that year so I didn’t sign a contract for another year and went back to the skies.”
    “That’s when I met you,” Burton said. “Remember we were soaring over I-40 and you said that there was too much traffic so that landing for ‘Road Kill’ was too dangerous. Then Sophie, that youngster from Chihuahua, spotted that flattened gopher close to the westbound centerline.”
    “I remember cringing as I saw her take that long dive,” Bernice said. “Sophie didn’t see that big tractor trailer rig that was barreling toward Los Angeles.”
    “I saw it, too, and I saw that big rig’s windshield smack into Sophie and the glass went all over the road. The truck driver must have gotten blinded by the windshield glass because the truck went through the guard rail and into the canyon where it burst into flames.”
    “I remember telling you to be careful of those flames or you might get your tail feathers singed,” Bernice said. “We waited until the flames had subsided and almost out before we landed on the rig’s hood and hopped into the cab to see how that Bar-B-Q would taste.”
    “And, you made me go first,” Burton said, and made a face. “I’ll never forget how disappointed I was when I took that bite and the Bar-B-Q tasted like diesel fuel. We got out of there in a hurry and watched the rest of the flock go in for disappointment so we could laugh. After that we both realized that we were hungrier than before because we had anticipated a good meal.”
    “We have had some funny experiences, haven’t we?” Bernice mused. “I’ll never forget that time we followed that Mercedes with the driver texting as he drove that car ninety miles an hour on I-25. We had been soaring I-25 because there wasn’t much traffic. I suppose that is why that guy was hauling down the road at such a clip. We couldn’t keep up with him he was going at such a high speed, but then we saw smoke up ahead. I remember you telling me that your daddy had told you to watch for smoke around the Interstates because that generally meant a wreck and a chance at a hot meal unless the ambulances beat us to the scene.”
    “That was some crash,” Burton said. “I recall we flew as fast as we could toward Albuquerque. Then we saw that Mercedes just as the smoke cleared. The driver was out of the car and in the borrow ditch. You swooped in and took a sample bite. You jumped away and butted me a good one with your head and yelled at me. ‘Don’t even try this one,’ you screamed. ‘He’s a politician, and you could poison yourself in a minute.’”
    “You didn’t see me spit that morsel out as soon as I had tasted it.”
    They had been soaring with the thermals until they had reached an altitude far above the rest and enjoyed their privacy being able to recollect their experiences without being overheard. They were also happy to have escaped from all their children, grand children, great grand children, and great, great, grand children.
    “I remember that drought in the Southwest a few years back. The cattle dropped dead with a pleasant regularity,” Bernice said. “We didn’t have to soar the Interstates for three years and it was wonderful having great tasting steaks instead of that dubious road kill.”
    “But, remember out at that windmill where we had found that yearling steer and we were both having such a good meal that we didn’t see that bunch of coyotes coming?”
    “Yeah, they came running in and we barely got to take off before they arrived. And, that was quite a sight to see that cowboy pulling up in his pickup truck and shooting three of those coyotes as they were ripping away that steer belly where we had started an eating hole.”
    “Yes, those were the good old days all right. Things we will always remember and cherish all the days of our lives,” Burton said.
    “It’s really nice up here away from all those children,” Bernice said. “I really get sick of all that electronic paraphernalia they have accumulated so that they never really learn how to read. Whenever I see them soaring and listening to their iPods I wonder if we raised them the right way.”
    “For heaven’s sake, Bernice, don’t feel guilty about not raising the children properly, it is society that screws them up with all this high tech crap. I almost kicked Buddy Boy out of the nest when he came home with a Kindle Reader without its battery charger, and asked me to go to town and get him one when he couldn’t read his pornographic novels with the dead machine. I read pieces of one of his novels and I never knew that humans did the things they did just to make babies. I am damn sure glad I’m a buzzard and not a human.”
    “What really bothers me more than the iPods, Kindles and cell phone texting that the kids have taken up with, are the body piercing and tattoos they are getting,” Bernice said. “All those earrings in all those places are bound to cut down their soaring speeds and those tattoos are obscene, especially the ones picturing carrion walking around on their heads. I am sure glad we don’t live forever and have to see what these kids are going to end up doing. They will miss all the good carrion while they are up soaring and listening to all that garbage music that is nothing more than noise.”
    “I got upset the other day when Barb came back to the nest and demanded that I buy her a computer so she could get her degree on line instead of going to classes,” Burton said.
    “They are all a chore to deal with,” Bernice said. “As hungry as I am, I would just as soon stay up high where we are so they can’t even see us. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them flew up and wanted us to buy them a car.”
    “While we are up here I want to discuss the matter of soaring Juarez,” Burton said. “I have heard that the cartel drug war is producing sometimes five or six bodies every day.”
    “I heard that, too,” Bernice said. “I have also heard that when they bury them it is always in shallow graves. It might do to look into that situation. It’s not too far from here.”
    “The drug trade has ruined the entire country of Mexico. I am not sure if I want to spend winters down there any more.”
    “All the politicians keep jabbering about it and that “No Child Left Behind” President had a wall twenty feet high built along the border. It cost hundreds of millions of dollars. And, that lady governor of Arizona told everyone, ‘Show me a twenty foot wall and I’ll show you a twenty-one foot ladder.’ Lotta truth in that. Let’s fly on down there right now and leave the children here. They won’t miss us because they are all too busy with their electronic crap.”
    Burton and Bernice Buzzard flew south to Juarez, just across the border from El Paso. They arrived a little before dark and found a place to roost on an old dead cottonwood on the bank of the Rio Grande.
    Early the following morning Burton and Bernice took to the air and reached a safe soaring altitude, away from the cartel range of AK-47 rifles. They had heard that most of the bodies from the preceding night had been buried in the shallow graves in the Chihuahuan Desert early so that there would be no interference from the Juarez Police Department. At least that was the information they had received via the Buzzard Network’s antenna outside Clint, Texas.
    So up they flew and began soaring as usual, but this time on the lookout for men with masks burying the victims of the drug cartel war that had been raging along the International Boundary between the United States and Mexico. There was one writer that had proposed that all drugs be made legal in the United States, thus eliminating the market for the cartels. The drug companies in the United States would be able to sell at a tremendous profit and thereby add to the billions they were using to bribe Congress and others to pass legislation favorable to their commerce. The writer also proposed taxing the drugs and using that money for rehab centers. He maintained that regardless of the legality or illegality of the drug trade there would be about the same number of addicts and, with drugs legally obtained and taxed, the treatment centers would be far more effective than under present under financed situations.
    Burton and Bernice had discussed the drug situation in the United States and had both concluded that the total effect of the multi-million addictions of its citizens had caused a lower productivity by the entire workforce because the non-addicts had begun to rebel against the “on the clouds flying” addicts lack of productivity for the same salaries that the non-addicts got. So, the entire system had slowed to a snail’s pace compared to the early days of industrialization and unique creativity. Many of the creative segment maintained that they did their best creativity when bombed out of their minds with drugs than when they were sober. Both Burton and Bernice believed that the problem was world wide, and not confined just to the Western Hemisphere.
    “Look down there,” Burton said. “In that small canyon beyond that soccer field there’s a black SUV stopped and there are four men digging in the ground next to the car.”
    “Good eyes, Burton,” Bernice said. “Let’s circle around where we are and see what will happen.”
    The couple soared far above the city, keeping their eyes on the SUV and the men digging in the ground next to it. It was not long before they watched the men take a long package from the back of the SUV and place it in the hole they had dug. They hastily covered the package with dirt and returned to the SUV. Burton and Bernice watched as the SUV pulled away and headed back into the city.
    “Let’s go on down and have a look-see,” Burton said.
    “I’m with you, Darling,” Bernice said, and peeled off into a dive for the ground, following her husband.
    After both landed they hopped around on top of the shallow grave and scratched at the surface to find out where they could reach the package easiest. It was Burton that spoke first. “Over here, Bernice,” he said. “I think I found an arm.”
    Bernice hopped over and started scratching next to the hole Burton had made. “I think you are right about an arm, but the package is tough as hell and I think I might have to bite a hole in it instead of getting through with my feet.”
    Bernice went to work with her beak, pecking away at the plastic bag that contained the body of the cartel’s victim. Burton stood by as a lookout. All of a sudden he heard a vehicle approaching. He nudged Bernice. She took her head out of the hole and the sound came to her also.
    “Let’s get out of here,” Burton said. “That vehicle coming here is probably the same one as before.”
    The two buzzards flapped their winds hard and lifted off the ground next to the grave. The SUV arrived and the men got out, looking up in the sky at the buzzards. One of the men showed the others the hole Bernice had made. They grabbed their AK-47s from the SUV and began firing at the buzzards that were gaining altitude to get out of range.
    “Hurry, Bernice, I am having to dodge the bullets from their guns,” Burton said.
    “Me too, Dear. I guess that was not too great an idea to rob graves.”
    “You are right,” Burton said. “Hey, while we are away from the kids, let’s go on vacation to Tombstone. Remember? I told you I have always wanted to visit that famous place.”
    “I suppose that’s more fun than getting shot at by a bunch of drug runners,” Bernice said. “I am a tad hungry, so let’s follow I-10 and maybe we can find some road kill that’s fit to eat.”
    “Before we start for Tombstone look down there again,” Burton said. “There are five cars with ‘Policia’ painted on their sides arriving at the grave. The men have put down their shovels and guns and are standing there waiting for the Policia. Look at them, Bernice. The Policia are hugging the drug runners and they are all laughing. I should think that the police would want to arrest the drug runners.”
    “Look north,” Bernice said. All the children are flying in. How did they know we came here to Juarez?”
    The northern sky seemed black with buzzards as the entire flock arrived. They told Burton and Bernice that they had tracked them on Google Earth and were worried about the black SUV and the men digging the grave.
    “Have you eaten?” Burton asked.
    “Oh yes,” they all spoke at once. “We found a dead horse in a corral up in the mountains. What are those men doing?”
    “We were digging up a grave and they came back with their AK-47s so we flew away quickly. Then the Policia arrived and they seem like they are best friends. I think I saw one of the grave diggers hand one of the policemen a bag that looked like it came from a bank.”
    “All right,” Burton hollered to the flock. “Since you have all eaten well, I think it is time for a bombing run against those crooked policemen and the drug runners. Follow me!”
    The flock flew quickly into a bombing run formation and dove toward the SUV, unloading their bowels when they were close enough to insure good aim. Bernice flew last and once they reached safe heights again she began soaring and laughing. One buzzard flew close to her and asked, “What’s so funny, Mom?”
    “I flew last so I could look at their faces as all our bombs landed on them. At first they couldn’t figure out what was happening and looked skyward. At that moment most of our bombs hit them square in their faces and splattered all over them. That was the best bombing run we ever made as a family.”
    Just as she finished her story a Mexican Army helicopter swooped in and soldiers jumped out with their rifles holding all the bombed crooks at bay. They soon had them all in handcuffs and the officer in charge looked up in the sky to see the buzzards circling overhead watching. The officer motioned to the buzzards to come down and talk.
    “All right, Burton,” Bernice said. “Should we go down there or is this some sort of trap?”
    “I’ll fly on down and get close enough to hear what the officer has to say.”
    With that, Burton peeled away and flew in a long circle above the officer. He saw the officer clap and smile at him so he landed twenty feet away from the man and cocked his head to hear what he had to say.
    “You and your flock, with your excellent bombing run, have made it possible to capture the most notorious cartel in Juarez along with the crooked policia. You operated with valor that is most unusual for buzzards. I called in to my commander and he has authorized me to present each of your flock The Mexican Air Force Medal of Freedom. If you will wait for a moment I will get the medals from my helicopter. I always keep a good supply on hand.”
    Burton stood where he was, keeping an eye on the others that were guarding their prisoners. When the officer returned with the box of medals, Burton informed him that he could not carry all that weight and accomplish lift-off. So, the officer suggested to Burton that he fly up to the flock and have them all come down for the presentation. Burton flapped his wings and made a graceful takeoff to impress the Captain and his troops. He spread the word among the flock members and they all dove down to receive their medals.
    The extensive drug smuggling industry causes an increase in communication efficiency. The mayor of Juarez arrived in his long black limousine along with the mayor of El Paso. Both had their city councils in tow. After they had lined up the Captain made his presentation, praising the buzzard flock for their bravery and expert marksmanship. He made Burton an honorary Mexican General and Bernice Honorary Chairman of the board of the Tecate brewery and the Sauza Tequila Company. Along with the honorary position with Sauza she got a case of Sauza Hornitos that she offered to the soldiers and the flock. The case was consumed in a short time. The results were shattering.
    The flock members fell over on their sides, the soldiers got so drunk they turned all the drug runners and crooked cops loose and the two mayors of Juarez and El Paso decided they were gay and went off together in the Juarez mayor’s limo. The following morning the captain awakened his soldiers and had them back in the helicopter for the flight back to Ciudad Chihuahua. He stepped over to the slowly awakening Burton and Bernice.
    “I haven’t the slightest clue about what happened last night except that I think I gave away all the Mexican Air Force Medals of Freedom to a group of black people.”
    “Don’t worry about it, Captain,” Bernice said. “We had a great time and we will be off for Tombstone as soon as I can get all of my children sobered up.”
    The captain stepped aboard his helicopter, started the blades whirring, and took off for Ciudad Chihuahua. An hour later the Buzzard flock barely accomplishing lift off, took to the skies once again with their medals pinned to their chests.
    
    As they flew West Bernice called to the flock to gather around for an announcement. “One of you told me that you hadn’t finished that dead horse in the corral, so I must admonish you to return and fulfill the “Buzzards Honor” to clean your plates and leave the bones clean. After all that is why we are here to begin with.”
    “OK, Mama,” they all called back in a chorus that sounded like an orchestra of shreaks.
    “Your father and I are heading for a vacation in Tombstone. We will pick up whatever road kill we find along I-10. You can all look around here, but don’t go back to Juarez. There are always cartels there and they have more weapons than the Mexican Army. We should be back in a week or so, maybe sooner.”
    Burton and Bernice flew together following I-10 past Deming and Lordsburg; then turned south at Benson. They did not spot a single road kill all the way. Once past the ghost town of Fairbank along the San Pedro River, one of the few rivers that run north, they spotted Tombstone in the distance. A short time later they began circling the town and looking it over for a spot to roost that night. All of a sudden they heard several shots ring out. Looking in the direction of the sound they saw two men fall to the ground in the middle of a corral. They swooped down and landed on the bodies, Burton on one, Bernice on the other. At once they began poking both of the bodies with their beaks. The two men tried to scramble away from the buzzards and yelled, hollering at their friends to get the birds off of them. The audience that had been watching the reenactment of the “Shootout at the OK Corral” laughed at the scene thinking it was all part of the show.
    Suddenly two deputy sheriffs pushed their way through the crowd and grabbed Burton and Bernice, lifting them off the two actors. One deputy asked the other how he was supposed to put handcuffs on Burton. The other deputy told him to just hold him until they got them back to the jail and could put them both In a cell.
    After getting the two buzzards incarcerated, the deputies stood out side the cell. “What is that medal pinned to your chest?” one deputy asked.
    “It is the Mexican Air Force Medal of Freedom,” Burton said.
    “How did you come to get it?” the deputy asked.
    “We were instrumental in capturing some drug runners and crooked cops in Juarez, Chihuahua.”
    “How am I supposed to believe that story?” the deputy asked.
    “Call the Capitan at the Mexican Air Force Base in Chihuahua. He is the one who gave us the medals.”
    “What exactly did you do to earn the medals?” the deputy asked.
    “The two of us and our flock made a successful bombing run on the crooks.”
    “Come now, what in the world are you talking about?”
    “We emptied our bowels on the crooks as they looked up at us when we flew over them. The bombing run blinded the crooks and the Air Force captured them all.”
    “Who is this Captain I am supposed to call to verify your story?”
    “I believe his name is Garcia because it was written on his uniform,” Burton said.
    The deputy retired to his office and picked up the telephone. Ten minutes later he came back to the cell.
    “I am happy to say that you were telling me the truth about that so-called bombing run,” the deputy said. “Now I must ask you why you and this other buzzard assaulted those two actors?”
    “We don’t assault anyone. We are buzzards, and only go for carrion. When we saw those two get shot and fall we assumed that they had been killed. Fresh carrion is always more tasty than rotten carcasses.”
    “This is the damndest case I have ever been in charge of,” the deputy said and wiped his brow. “I am going to release you, but I must tell you that Captain Garcia has requested your presence at the unveiling of the bronze statues of you and this buzzard you call Bernice. It is at the entrance to Juarez at the main bridge.”
    The deputy opened the cell door and Burton and Bernice hopped out. He also opened the main door to the sheriff’s office and the two buzzards made their exit to Allen Street. The street was nearly empty so they made lift off and gained as much altitude as they could while circling over “the town too tough to die”.
    Arriving over El Paso they flew close to the main bridge and saw two veiled statues that had been installed. “You know, Burton, I am a little dubious about all this stuff. It sure didn’t take those Mexicans long to make those statues.”
    “You may be right with your suspicions, Bernice,” Burton said. “Perhaps we should go and round up the flock and move over to Arizona before we head south for the winter.”
    They gained altitude over the border and flew north to the corral where their flock was cleaning off the bones of the dead horse.
    “All right everyone, listen up,” Bernice said. “We have decided to get out of here and move to Arizona, so let’s get those bones picked as soon as possible. Your father and I are going back over to I-10 where we saw a road kill on our way back here.”

END

    EPILOGUE:
    When they arrived in Tucson Burton saw the headlines in the New York Times. MEXICAN AIR FORCE CAPTAIN, RAUL GARCIA ARRESTED IN MIDLAND, TEXAS AFTER BEING DISCOVERED SMUGGLING COCAINE WITH HIS MEXICAN AIR FORCE HELICOPTER. THE COCAINE WAS FOUND INSIDE TWO SCULPTURES OF BUZZARDS.

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