5381

A dangerously cold winter brings two unlikely souls together.

The winter of 1957 was the cruelest North Dakota had seen in years. Snow buried roads. Rivers froze solid. Hunger stalked the wilderness. Many animals vanished beneath the endless storms.

One afternoon, as icy winds howled across the state penitentiary, a strange visitor arrived.

The exercise yard door blew open.

A black crow shot through the gap.

The security guard barely had time to react as the bird streaked past him and down the prison’s central walkway. The crow landed on a rail, chest heaving, feathers rattled by exhaustion.

“Get it!” a guard shouted.

Men rushed from both ends of the corridor.

The crow launched into the air again.

He darted through the cell block and disappeared.

Guards searched frantically.

Nothing.

Because the bird had landed on the bunk of Prisoner Number 5381.

Bert.

The crow panted desperately, its bright eyes full of fear.

Without hesitation, Bert draped his blanket over it.

Moments later a guard stopped outside his cell.

“You see a bird fly through here?”

Bert shrugged innocently.

“Nope.”

The guard moved on.

That night Bert shared part of his supper with the crow.

“You’re quite the escape artist,” he said.

“Houdini. That’s your name.”

The friendship grew through the winter. Bert taught Houdini tricks. Houdini learned quickly, astonishing everyone except Bert.

Then spring arrived.

And with it, opportunity.

No one ever learned exactly how Prisoner 5381 escaped. Rumors spread through the prison for years. Some swore a bird had carried messages. Others claimed it stole keys.

By summer, Bert was gone.

Months later, a man entered an apartment manager’s office.

“Any vacancies?”

The manager nodded. “Sure. No pets, though.”

“What about a bird?”

The manager laughed. “I guess that’d be okay. What harm could a bird do?”

Bert smiled.

From beneath his coat came a familiar caw.