Halloween Special: Hanigull

[Haunting music.]

[Door opens.] 

Narrator—Alexander Danner

Humans are not alone in suffering the intrusions of boorish interlopers. And here I refer not merely to the intrusions of humans themselves upon the natural world. No, even animals themselves may transgress upon the territory of their fellow creatures. And what is a put-upon host to do but attempt hospitality? An offer of food, an offer of drink… but how much is too much? What limits may be set upon the nature of refreshment that a guest may demand? After all, some guests have unique and expansive appetites.

Take, for instance, the story of:

“Hannigull.”

[Wings flapping. Birds cooing. Passerby chatter.]

Pigeon

He comes like a ghost on silent white wings; and we let him, we let him. 

Multiple Pigeons

We are many— 

Pigeon

—and he is one, 

Pigeon

but we are small and he is large, and we are afraid of him, 

Multiple Pigeons

his grating voice and mouth stained red. 

Pigeon

We let him come. 

Pigeon

We are used to the unkindness of man, who has forgotten us, who has forgotten we are only here because of them. 

Pigeon

Their children chase us and laugh at our terror, and they call us dirty and pests. 

Pigeon

We live on the edifices of their buildings only because they brought us here as friends—

Multiple Pigeons

— and turned us away when we outlived our usefulness. And we are used to the unkindness of our kin, the red-tailed one who lives in the trees and picks off the sick and the old. 

Pigeon

We recognize his shadow on the ground and huddle together when he approaches. 

Pigeon

We never expected the cruelty of the seabird. 

Pigeon

There are the few who do care for us: the men who come from Chinatown with their loaves of stale bread, the woman who fills trays with water and leaves them in the grass when the summer is hot and dry. They have tender hearts and generous hands, and we thank them when we see them. 

[Background people talking.]

Pigeon

When the gull first arrived, he wanted what the kind people had to offer. He ate our bread and drank our water. And we did not complain, even when he left no bread for us to eat and spilled the water onto the grass. 

Multiple Pigeons

Then the first vanished. 

They were our young, and we grieved but were not surprised. The fledglings cannot escape the way the adults do, and there are many dangers, even in our garden: the steel beasts that crush us beneath their hooves, the overly large rats. We heard rumors of a coyote that made her way across the river and stalked the neighborhood on the hill. 

Pigeon

Many of us do not survive. But soon more disappeared, ones who still had many years to live. 

Multiple Pigeons [overlapping]

And we were afraid. 

When we found them there was very little left. 

[Pigeons cooing.]

Pigeon

And still the gull came. 

Soon we came to understand that he was the cause. [Wind blows.] We began to disappear shortly after he began flying in from the north—

Multiple Pigeons

—bringing with him the smell of sea water and machine oil and decay, and he ate our food but never seemed sated. So we flew to the water to see for ourselves, to understand why one of our own would turn on us, and we saw, and we understood. 

Pigeon

The water in the harbor was too warm and something slick shone on the surface, and all the herring were dead. They bobbed there like so many coins on the ground. 

The gull is hungry. It is easy to understand, and at the same time incomprehensible. 

Pigeon

When he arrives now we give him a wide berth. We eat only at the very edges, the smallest pieces, and still he chases us—if he thinks what we have is better than his. 

Pigeon

We flee quickly at his appearance. We say nothing as he chases the kind people who bring us food. He flares his wings and screams like some thing from Hell—

Multiple Pigeons

—and he snaps his beak at their fingers if they try to shoo him. We can only hope they will not be deterred. 

Some of us have fled our park for farther-away flocks. But the park has food and trees for us to rest in, and the taller buildings here shield us from the wind and give us many places to sleep.

Pigeon

More still have braved the underground, the domain of the rats and that strange metal shriek. The gull does not follow us there.

Multiple Pigeons

For all of his bluster, he is, at his core, afraid of the humans. 

Pigeon

Those who do go underground return with strange stories, of more metal beasts that regurgitate humans and, for only the bravest of us, will take us to other parts of the city— 

Multiple Pigeons

—if we join them. 

Pigeon

But it is not natural for us to go places where we cannot see the sky. 

Multiple Pigeons

And still we vanish. 

Our park is too loud to hear his approach; by the time we know he is upon us, it is too late, and he seizes us by the wing, toys with us until we are too tired to flee. 

Pigeon

He is there with his terrible laughing and red-stained beak, and we are gone. 

Pigeon

The humans have noticed. How could they not? He makes no efforts to hide what he’s done. We are strewn across the park. They no longer love us but they do not want to see us suffer. 

Pigeon

They have no domain here, and can do little more than clean up what he leaves behind. We hear them whisper to each other, see them point. 

Multiple Pigeons

The kindest among them frighten him away if he is nearby. But there is not always a kind person near enough. 

They have given him a name. They stop and point him out to one another as they walk by, whispering behind their hands: there he is. There’s that seagull that eats pigeons. 

When he comes on silent white wings we hide; we can only hope that we avoid his gaze for another day. He lands and surveys us like he is our king, like he is our farmer, and they call him Hannigull, the tyrant of the Common.

[Footsteps passing. Wings flapping.]

[Music.]

Narrator

Well, that was unsettling. I’d be more sympathetic to the pigeons if not for the fact that they disgust me. I know, I know, they are only here because the humans insisted upon it, no matter how loath they are to remember that now. But when they go down into the subway tunnels… well, I think it would pay for them to remember that they are the uninvited guests in that domain. And I’d very much prefer that they keep out. After all, if there’s one thing that I, myself, have taken away from these Halloween specials over the years, it’s this: birds are horrifying! Frankly, I don’t know why we still tolerate them. Perhaps something should be done… our delivery drone fleet could be outfitted with light artillery. Hmm… I’ll have to think on that.

Credits

Greater Boston is created by Alexander Danner and Jeff Van Dreason with help from Amanda McCormack, T.H. Ponders, Bob Raymonda, Jordan Stillman, and Theo Wolf. Recording and technical assistance from Marck Harmon.

This episode was written by Theo Wolf and sound designed by Jeff Van Dreason.

This episode features:

• Alexander Danner as The Narrator and a Pigeon 
• and James Johnston, Kelly McCabe, Jordan Stillman, and Jeff Van Dreason as Pigeons. 

We'll be back next Tuesday with another Halloween Freight. Check out our very own Bob Raymonda's show Forgive Me! for an episode written by Jeff and starring Jeffrey Cranor from Welcome to Night Vale.

Cookie

Jordan Stillman

Oh yeah. Mmm. Hear that siren. Let—wow, wow, wow. What a beautiful sound. You good? You good, police?