Maeve and the Wild Thing

 

            There had been a pogrom in the eastern lands. His people were decimated. Truly, they were much more than decimated. His people had suffered such catastrophic loss that the survivors had scattered, some to the south. A few went to the north. He alone traveled westward.
            There were trials and hungry days. A mountain pass late in the year doesn’t offer much to the lone footsore traveler.
            He’d never been alone before. But now he was alone. He had only his own nose to guide him. He fed upon roadside scraps, dead things, some unlucky field mice, even forest mushrooms. He became rather gaunt. 

    His name was Jumpstart. In his own language it sounded better than that.
            There was no shortage of water, he followed rivers rather than highways.
            He just kept going along until he got to where he was going.
            When he got there he sat down. He smiled and looked around the place. It was very pleasing to behold. Jumpstart’s eyes twinkled with pleasure. He saw much scope for advancement here.
            Such trees he had never seen in the east, that land of rolling wheat where his people had lived a subtle existence. He almost felt magic in the air here. There was something mysterious here. There was more than met the eye, though what met the eye was very handsome.
            An inquisitive burst of wind ruffled his yellow fur. He curled around his own tail, for warmth and slept in a hollow near a great huge fallen log.
            When light came again, he opened his eyes. There was a black bird looking back at him, a very large black bird. Her black eyes gave nothing away.
            “Who are you?” said the bird.
            “First, you tell me who you are, and why I should answer you,” said Jumpstart.
            “Because I pity your youth and hunger, I will tell you. I am Maeve, messenger and adviser to the king of this land,” said Maeve.
            “I have no king,” said Jumpstart. He sat up and smiled at her. “Why should I care who you advise or serve?”
            “Because of where you find yourself, saucepot!” said Maeve. “I have the power to admit you or to expel you. Who are you?”
            “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies!” said Jumpstart.
            “I see that you are a fool, youngling,” said Maeve, in a disappointed sort of voice.
            “I’m no fool, you great fat bird! I’ll soon be king here! You watch!” chortled Jumpstart.
            “Evermore! We shall see about that,” said Maeve as she lifted off. “Follow me, if you dare!”
            And since he was young, and full of bravado, follow her he did as she flew low and slow over a forest path heading downhill a bit.
            She led him into a clearing among the trees. His ears began to ring when he looked about himself. There were creatures here, creatures such as he had never seen. They were mannish, but not mankind. He skidded to a stop in dismay.
            The great bird flew to the largest creature and settled onto his shoulder, and spoke.
            “This poor young thing you see before you would not give me his name. He avers that he will soon be king here and that I should watch and see!” said Maeve to the one whose shoulder she sat upon.
            The massive creature turned an amused face to Jumpstart, who cowered now in the Home Clearing. His brown eyes twinkled with amusement and something a little wistful too. There was sympathy in his look.
            “I am Ralph. Most creatures here look to me. Now, tell me, who are you?” said he.
            “Sir, my mother named me Jumpstart, for I always ran out first,” admitted Jumpstart.
            “A worthy name,” said Ralph. His laugh rumbled through the clearing.
            A young wolf and two tawny cats watched. There was a mother there and a son and a small girl too. All eyes were upon Jumpstart. They waited.
            “My thanks,” said the poor young thing, humbly. “How may I serve you, Sir?” he said.
            “Jumpstart, you may not serve me, for your people love freedom more than life. You will not be king here, but go in peace,” said Ralph.
            “You speak truly, Sir. And I see that I will not be king here. Forgive me, Sir, for speaking like a fool to your wonderous black bird.”
            “Indeed, I do forgive you. Be of good courage,” said Ralph.
            While they had been speaking, the mother, seeing that his sides were so sunk in, brought him a generous bowl of the same venison that the family had eaten the night before. He accepted it and ate with relief.
            “Stay by our fire tonight, Jumpstart. Then go on your way as you wish, but come back and be with us when you wish. You are welcome here,” said Ralph.
            “I will!” said Jumpstart happily.
            And all was well in the Home Clearing, as usual!

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Image: Christopher Martin Photography.