The Crane, Part 9
The fic, it is coming out my ears. Wow.
9.
The late autumn may have been chill and dreary, but when true winter reached the country estate, it was unmistakable. A series of howling storms blew in, whipping the pond, the trees, rattling the eaves of the house and leaving white glittering frost over everything, bare stripped trees, and crusts of ice rimming the shores of the pond. There had yet to be snow with the storms, but the caretaker assured Takashi that snow would indeed come and blanket the land, the marsh, even piling in drifts up to the porch steps.
Since the evening of that young man's abrupt escape, the caretaker had been painfully apologetic. Through a series of question on his part, and nods or head-shakes from Takashi, he learned about the poor stranger's efforts to save Takashi, which of course only deepened his contrition.
Though he hardly felt it was necessary, Takashi understood the caretaker's need to express his sincere remorse, but soon enough--as the young man showed not a hint of himself for many days--Takashi decided that merely regretting frightening him off was not enough.
However the young man had survived in the region thus far, Takashi knew he could not continue through a hard winter on his own, sneaking in for the meals left outside for him, and particularly not in those thin ragged clothes. Takashi himself had quickly learned why the geese and near all the other birds had migrated away in the fall; once true winter had settled in, Takashi could scarcely bear the icy breezes buffeting his feathers, or the numbing cold water on his bare legs, when he wandered down to the pond (always within sight of the house, now, he'd learned his lesson there) in search of something to quiet his hunger.
Unable to remedy the young man's situation for himself, he needed to emphasize to the caretaker the importance of taking extra measures on the stranger's behalf; to provide him warmer clothes, blankets for wherever he stayed, and if at all possible, to encourage him to accept the hospitality of the royal house; preferably before those snow storms came in.
Thanks to this urgent necessity, Takashi hit upon a strategy which in hindsight, should have been obvious to him long ago. Since he couldn't speak his wishes, he needed to find a way of writing them.
He attempted it first, by wandering into the house library, catching up a stray pencil in his beak, and then hunting down the caretaker in the kitchen. After he flapped up onto the dining table, and drew a mark on its surface, the caretaker divined his purpose, and exclaimed what a brilliant gentleman his Highness was.
Quickly the man fetched some writing paper, but it wasn't long before Takashi found that a pencil in his beak was too unwieldy. He could make marks, but was unable to write anything legible. He tried catching the pencil with one foot, but his long spindly toes were really only good for standing on. Still determined, he dipped his beak in the caretaker's tea cup, and attempted drawing with it, in the manner of a quill pen. But making letters in this manner was painstakingly slow, and after just one sloppy illegible word, his neck was exhausted.
The caretaker tutted thoughtfully over his attempts, nodding as he understood the obstacles in each case. And just when Takashi had reached the point of utter frustration, ready to kick the pencil off the table and give up, the old man looked around the kitchen and smiled.
"If his Highness will excuse my poor opinion, I do suspect that what he requires is a simpler way to write. With your leave, I have a notion that may help."
Takashi nodded and stared in expectation, until the caretaker hurried off for the fireplace at the end of the room, taking up the ash bucket from the hearth, and then stopping off at one of the kitchen cabinets for a deep roasting pan. As soon as he poured a bed of ash into the pan, Takashi understood.
t-h-a-n-k-s was the first word he drew in the ash with his foot.
"Please, his Highness most certainly shouldn't thank me. I ought to have thought of this long before."
Well, Takashi thought, so should he, so that made them even. At any rate, now that he had some way to communicate, he didn't wish to lose another moment.
h-e-l-p
t-h-e
b-o-y was his next message; the difficulty of balancing on one foot to scratch out letters forcing him to be succinct.
But the caretaker understood, and nodded his unhappy agreement. "Yes, I'd say that poor lad needs all the help we could offer him. Though as I'm sure his Highness has seen, he's not yet shown up for the meals I've left him."
h-e
h-i-d-e-s... Takashi drew, before running out of room in the pan. He waved his beak up and down at the ash a few times, trying to indicate he had more to convey. Fortunately the caretaker was quite astute, and obligingly stirred the ash about, giving him a clean surface to continue.
w-h-e-r-e--?
"I'm terribly sorry I can't say, your Highness," the old man sighed. "I first caught him peeking about, at the start of summer. Could be he kips in the stables, and simply leaves no sign. And there's that old gardening shack, down the east side of the marsh. It's a bit of a walk, and I confess I haven't been down there myself in an age. The fella what comes out to help with the spring trimming, he inspects it once a year for me, makes sure it's still dry and sound, and the mice haven't colonized."
Takashi sank down on the table to rest a moment, and because he always seemed to think better, with his legs folded under him.
"If your Highness wishes, we could go inspect the shed ourselves. Though if you'll forgive me, I worry if we intrude on the boy's hiding spot, he may well fear we're chasing him out."
Takashi nodded, having harbored the very same worry. And then he stood again, needing to add something further.
h-e
n-e-e-d-s
b-l-a-n-k-e-t-s
&--c-l-o-t-h-e-s
"I couldn't agree more with your Highness. We do have quite a store of blankets we could offer. And I reckon some of my old winter work clothes might suit him."
In this way, it was decided they would provide for the stranger, but this still left the problem of actually finding him. Takashi instructed the caretaker to go on leaving meals out in the usual spot, on the chance that the young man might one day return and partake of them. But this alone was insufficient, he knew. He needed to locate the young man, and given the cold and the caretaker's advanced age, he could not rely on the old man for help. Moreover, the stranger's evident fear of other people meant that calling in other searchers from the palace could do far more harm than good.
Takashi would have to find his rescuer himself. And the most expeditious means for accomplishing that, was just as the fortuneteller had instructed him months ago:
He must learn how to fly.
**
9.
The late autumn may have been chill and dreary, but when true winter reached the country estate, it was unmistakable. A series of howling storms blew in, whipping the pond, the trees, rattling the eaves of the house and leaving white glittering frost over everything, bare stripped trees, and crusts of ice rimming the shores of the pond. There had yet to be snow with the storms, but the caretaker assured Takashi that snow would indeed come and blanket the land, the marsh, even piling in drifts up to the porch steps.
Since the evening of that young man's abrupt escape, the caretaker had been painfully apologetic. Through a series of question on his part, and nods or head-shakes from Takashi, he learned about the poor stranger's efforts to save Takashi, which of course only deepened his contrition.
Though he hardly felt it was necessary, Takashi understood the caretaker's need to express his sincere remorse, but soon enough--as the young man showed not a hint of himself for many days--Takashi decided that merely regretting frightening him off was not enough.
However the young man had survived in the region thus far, Takashi knew he could not continue through a hard winter on his own, sneaking in for the meals left outside for him, and particularly not in those thin ragged clothes. Takashi himself had quickly learned why the geese and near all the other birds had migrated away in the fall; once true winter had settled in, Takashi could scarcely bear the icy breezes buffeting his feathers, or the numbing cold water on his bare legs, when he wandered down to the pond (always within sight of the house, now, he'd learned his lesson there) in search of something to quiet his hunger.
Unable to remedy the young man's situation for himself, he needed to emphasize to the caretaker the importance of taking extra measures on the stranger's behalf; to provide him warmer clothes, blankets for wherever he stayed, and if at all possible, to encourage him to accept the hospitality of the royal house; preferably before those snow storms came in.
Thanks to this urgent necessity, Takashi hit upon a strategy which in hindsight, should have been obvious to him long ago. Since he couldn't speak his wishes, he needed to find a way of writing them.
He attempted it first, by wandering into the house library, catching up a stray pencil in his beak, and then hunting down the caretaker in the kitchen. After he flapped up onto the dining table, and drew a mark on its surface, the caretaker divined his purpose, and exclaimed what a brilliant gentleman his Highness was.
Quickly the man fetched some writing paper, but it wasn't long before Takashi found that a pencil in his beak was too unwieldy. He could make marks, but was unable to write anything legible. He tried catching the pencil with one foot, but his long spindly toes were really only good for standing on. Still determined, he dipped his beak in the caretaker's tea cup, and attempted drawing with it, in the manner of a quill pen. But making letters in this manner was painstakingly slow, and after just one sloppy illegible word, his neck was exhausted.
The caretaker tutted thoughtfully over his attempts, nodding as he understood the obstacles in each case. And just when Takashi had reached the point of utter frustration, ready to kick the pencil off the table and give up, the old man looked around the kitchen and smiled.
"If his Highness will excuse my poor opinion, I do suspect that what he requires is a simpler way to write. With your leave, I have a notion that may help."
Takashi nodded and stared in expectation, until the caretaker hurried off for the fireplace at the end of the room, taking up the ash bucket from the hearth, and then stopping off at one of the kitchen cabinets for a deep roasting pan. As soon as he poured a bed of ash into the pan, Takashi understood.
t-h-a-n-k-s was the first word he drew in the ash with his foot.
"Please, his Highness most certainly shouldn't thank me. I ought to have thought of this long before."
Well, Takashi thought, so should he, so that made them even. At any rate, now that he had some way to communicate, he didn't wish to lose another moment.
h-e-l-p
t-h-e
b-o-y was his next message; the difficulty of balancing on one foot to scratch out letters forcing him to be succinct.
But the caretaker understood, and nodded his unhappy agreement. "Yes, I'd say that poor lad needs all the help we could offer him. Though as I'm sure his Highness has seen, he's not yet shown up for the meals I've left him."
h-e
h-i-d-e-s... Takashi drew, before running out of room in the pan. He waved his beak up and down at the ash a few times, trying to indicate he had more to convey. Fortunately the caretaker was quite astute, and obligingly stirred the ash about, giving him a clean surface to continue.
w-h-e-r-e--?
"I'm terribly sorry I can't say, your Highness," the old man sighed. "I first caught him peeking about, at the start of summer. Could be he kips in the stables, and simply leaves no sign. And there's that old gardening shack, down the east side of the marsh. It's a bit of a walk, and I confess I haven't been down there myself in an age. The fella what comes out to help with the spring trimming, he inspects it once a year for me, makes sure it's still dry and sound, and the mice haven't colonized."
Takashi sank down on the table to rest a moment, and because he always seemed to think better, with his legs folded under him.
"If your Highness wishes, we could go inspect the shed ourselves. Though if you'll forgive me, I worry if we intrude on the boy's hiding spot, he may well fear we're chasing him out."
Takashi nodded, having harbored the very same worry. And then he stood again, needing to add something further.
h-e
n-e-e-d-s
b-l-a-n-k-e-t-s
&--c-l-o-t-h-e-s
"I couldn't agree more with your Highness. We do have quite a store of blankets we could offer. And I reckon some of my old winter work clothes might suit him."
In this way, it was decided they would provide for the stranger, but this still left the problem of actually finding him. Takashi instructed the caretaker to go on leaving meals out in the usual spot, on the chance that the young man might one day return and partake of them. But this alone was insufficient, he knew. He needed to locate the young man, and given the cold and the caretaker's advanced age, he could not rely on the old man for help. Moreover, the stranger's evident fear of other people meant that calling in other searchers from the palace could do far more harm than good.
Takashi would have to find his rescuer himself. And the most expeditious means for accomplishing that, was just as the fortuneteller had instructed him months ago:
He must learn how to fly.
**