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T h e  W a y  o f  D r e a m s : T h e  O r p h a n

Chapter Two: The Mountain Nest

 

 

 

 

John lived in an old two-storey house with a non-descript façade, a little secluded garden with high stone walls, a huge library inside, and nothing much else. He took Lara there, and showed her into a vacant room with a bed, a working table, two chairs and a closet. The window, hidden behind a thick curtain, looked onto the garden. He opened the shutters for her, suggesting that she could use also the window as her private entrance and as an exit if she ever felt like it. “Whenever you take cover or assume a shelter, make sure that you have at least one escape route,” he advised her humorously.

Lara looked through the window. The room was on the ground floor and it would be easy to jump out and back in without hurting herself. She could escape if she wanted to. In the middle of the garden, there was a large oak. It looked just like a place where one would want to lie down about noon and roll in the grass watching the sky above through the shivering leaves.

John interrupted her musing: “Dinner, bath and, here, old pyjamas much too large for you. Tomorrow we do some shopping for something more appropriate.”

Dinner was more than even a hungry little street girl could handle. Lara overstuffed herself and had a bellyache afterwards. John seemed to find it entertaining letting her do things her own way, filling her plate as much as she asked for and then comforting her when she felt sick. He arranged her bed later and wished her a good night.

“My room is on the top floor, just up the stairs. Knock if you need something, will you?” He closed the door of her room behind her, and the girl sharpened her ears to hear his footsteps vanishing upstairs. A door closed on the upper floor, and suddenly all was quiet. Awfully quiet.

Lara could not sleep. Her belly was too full, the soft bed too uncomfortable, and the house was too soundless for her. So much unalike the loud street, where she used to sleep with a bunch of smelling street kids thronged on top of cartons and old mats, with quarrels and fights going on until late in the night. After an hour of tossing and turning in the night, she stripped the bedding off the bed and piled it up in the darkest corner of the room. That felt better when she perched herself on the top of the pile, but she did not manage to fall sleep there either.

Her arrangements woke John up. He knocked on her door and showed his head through it.

“Can’t sleep?”

“No,” said Lara in a hoarse voice.

“I see,” said John softly. “Why, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep after such a large dinner, in a new room on top of that, under a real roof, in a strange new house. Would you like me to leave you alone or would you like me to tell you a good-night story?”

Lara thought a bit. She felt lonely. “A story,” she murmured from the pile of bedding, pillows and blankets.

“Right, I’ll sit on the floor here, and you cuddle up in that nest of yours.” Lara snuggled herself deeper into the pile of bedding. “Now, let me think what story would be good for tonight… What is your favourite animal, Lara?”

“Wolf!” the girl answered without thinking.

“Great, as it happens, I just know a story about a silly little wolf-cub who adopted a duck for a mother. Would you like to hear it?”

Lara giggled and stretched herself in the corner. “Yeah, a silly little wolf-cub.”

 

 

The story about the silly little wolf-cub

 

 

“Once upon a time, a little wolf-cub woke up in the middle of the forest. It could not remember neither who it was nor what it was. It opened its eyes and looked around: there was no-one near-by.

‘Mom?’ the cub whispered dreamily. There was no response. It squealed gently, trying to call whoever was there, but no-one answered. The cub sprung on its soft feet and looked around. The forest was big and dense; there were deep shadows and strange sounds coming from the thicket. The cub began to wonder what it was doing there, where it was supposed to go and what it was supposed to do. But there was no one to answer these questions.

The cub felt lonely and scared a bit. Then it saw something shimmering behind the trees, so it stretched its little paws and hopped forward to see what that shimmer was about. A stream was passing quietly through the forest, and tall reeds were hiding its banks. The cub happily yawped and jumped into the water, slurping gulps of it thirstily. Suddenly, it heard croaking. It raised its head and saw a big something gloriously floating on the water with a flock of similar cackling things behind her. The wolf-cub jumped on its feet from happiness, the big thing looked pleasant and warm.

‘Mom?’ it cried. The big thing, however, did not respond. It just bowed its head left and right, inspecting the water surface. The cub thought that the big warm thing nodded to him approvingly, so it didn’t think twice. With a tiny yelp it jumped into the water to follow the warm thing which seemed like a mother.

Fortunately the spring was shallow and the wolf-cub could half-swim and half-bounce from the bottom, reaching the water surface just in time to take another breath of air. It persistently followed the warm things, too happy to wonder where they were going.

The mother led its flock, together with the gasping fur-ball, to a meadow beside the stream. Here she inspected the surroundings with a keen eye, and when she made sure that it was safe, she whistled and called her flock to the land. The wolf cub followed the little cackling things and stood shivering and wet amongst them. With a conceited look, the mother slowly plucked a leaf of grass with its beak, showing its children how to feed themselves. The little things, gaggling aloud, ran all over the meadow plucking leaves of grass.

The little wolf cub watched them carefully. Then, it eagerly tried to do the same. It stuffed its muzzle with plenty of grass, chewed it thoughtfully, nearly choked on a blade of grass and spit the whole bunch out in panic. With tears in its eyes it looked at the mother, asking for help. She carefully took a single leaf of grass and tore a small bit of it, swallowing it easily. The cub, grateful for the instruction, followed her example. This time it was not so greedy, it took one bit at a time, and successfully stuffed itself full. However, its belly felt strange, really strange. The cub worried, looked again at the mother but she just waved her head.

‘I guess that’s it, I’ll just have to get used to it,’ thought the cub ruefully and followed the flock back into the water. The big warm thing was now teaching the little ones to feed on insects on the water surface. The cub clanked its little teeth around various moving things in the water and swallowed everything that came into its mouth. This did not feel very good either, but at least it did not feel so hungry in the end.

The cub was wet and cold, wondering when this lesson would end. Then the night came. The mother took her flock out of the water into her nest hidden deep in the reeds. The cub leapt out of the water and fearfully approached the big warm thing. She looked at him in a strange way, but then opened her wing to let the cub’s head beneath it, where the little things were already cuddling up. The wolf-cub sighed with relief and shoved its nose among them, the rest of its furry body too big to fit.

‘Are you my mom?’ the cub asked from beneath the wing.

‘No, I’m not’ came the muffled answer from the warm thing.

The cub sniffed quietly. ‘What are you? What am I? Where’s my mom?’

‘I’m a duck. I don’t know what you are. I saw you prancing in the water, following me and eating grass and insects. But you can stay if you want,’ she said in a motherly sort of way.

‘May I?’ replied the cub gratefully, too weary from the long day to think about it further.

The next day, the mother duck, the ducklings and the wolf-cub followed the same routine: swimming, eating grass, insects, drying up in the patches of sun and generally biding their time in and around the stream. The ducklings гот used to the newcomer and allowed it to play with them. The wolf-cub felt safe at last. Well, it found some sort of а home and some sort of a family. It still felt slightly sick in the belly when it ate insects and grass.

And so, days went by. The cub was happy, but it always felt strangely hungry and somehow aside from the flock. First, it noticed that its paws were different from the wings of its siblings. Then, it realised that it could not fly like them, no matter how fast it ran. It could not dive under water, as hard as it tried. And it tried hard, so hard. Failing at these ordinary things, it became the laughing stock of the flock, but it did not mind – they were a family.

One day, a different, long thing, also warm, came to their meadow to drink from the pond. The new thing did not mind the ducks, but when the wolf-cub appeared, it startled and speedily ran away. The cub clumsily emerged from the water on its wet feet and watched the long thing disappearing in the forest.

‘Why are you running away?’ it yelped.

After a while, a pair of large suspicious eyes emerged under the trees. They cautiously watched the cub. The long thing returned to the meadow and approached the little animal. The cub noticed that this thing did not have wings and it had fur similar to its own.

‘Are you my real mom?’ it asked.

‘Are you lost, little one?’ the long thing asked, with obvious relief.

‘It seems so,’ admitted the cub.

‘I am a roe. But what sort of creature are you, water or land creature?’ asked the roe curiously staring at the algae entangled in its wet fur.

‘I don’t know,’ mumbled the cub, bending its head in shame.

       The roe was deep in thoughts. ‘You move with birds and yet you lack the wings of a bird. You are too wet for a real animal, I should think. You look rugged and skinny, although you eat grass just like me.’ The cub waited obediently for the observations to finish. ‘Listen, why don’t you come with me. You seem to have long legs to run on; if you are a fast runner, you can watch my back and I’ll watch yours, alright? Well, come along,’ decided the roe in the end, ‘you look strange but we may be related. Perhaps distant relatives?’ And the roe leaped into the forest, leading the way.

       The cub happily raised its head, turned to wave goodbye to the astonished mother duck and followed the four-legged wingless furry thing into the forest.

       So the cub lived with the roe and did what it did: it grazed grass, ran fast and lied on meadows up in the mountain. The roe seemed to be always on the run. Whenever something moved in the bushes, the two of them would run away. The cub felt better with her than with the duck flock, but it still felt awfully hungry all the time. ‘Well, at least I can run with her, instead of trying to fly and dive into water all the time. I was really so bad. Finally something I’m good at – running at top speed, on dry land!’ it comforted itself.

       One day, the roe was grazing in the forest, while the cub was rolling about in the grass, snatching bugs and butterflies. Suddenly, the roe raised its head and pricked its ears. ‘Silence!’ it hushed the cub. ‘Someone is here.’

       The cub froze. The forest was silent. The birds had stopped chirping. The roe did not wait a second more. It leaped among the trees like a lightning. The cub clumsily rose to its feet but stumbled and fell in the grass. A shadow covered it. The cub looked up. It saw two yellow, glistening eyes, fur just like its own, paws instead of hoofs and – teeth, real fangs.

       ‘Mom?’ asked the cub with fearful excitement. This animal really looked like the cub. And it growled, unlike the roe.

       The cub felt a powerful paw pressing on its back, pushing it to the ground. Its hair stood on its neck. It was not a friendly animal, not for a mom at least. It was so scared suddenly, that it closed its eyes tightly, bent its head to the ground and just shivered, waiting for the big animal to do something. This was not good.

       Then, all of a sudden, there was another animal leaping from aside and another, and another. The cub thought it was all over, the animals would kill it. No running or swimming or diving would help. Its heart sank. Then, the big shadow above him suddenly disappeared, the paw on its back was gone, there was a large thump and a loud mew, followed by the most frightening growl the cub had ever heard. It fearfully opened its eyes.

       Three large grey animals now patrolled the meadow, with one standing right beside the cub, growling after the disappearing shadow. ‘Fur… fangs… no wings…’ counted the cub utterly confused with the new creatures. It did not dare say ‘mom’ this time, afraid that it would make just another mistake.

       The animal which was standing near by the cub turned around and approached it. The cub sat on the ground, lowering its head again. The animal sniffed around the cub; then, it grabbed in its teeth and carried it away.

       The cub’s heart almost stopped beating; it kept silent with its eyes shut, waiting to be devoured. ‘Strange,’ after a while, the cub thought, ‘its teeth are quite gentle… and I like swaying like this… I’m hungry…’ It still did not want to open its eyes, feeling that it is being carried away… somewhere. Finally, the animal released its jaws and the cub fell to the ground with a thud. It was dark. It felt the animal curl beside it.

       ‘Where am I?’ asked the cub with a trembling voice.

       ‘In my den,’ kindly answered the animal.

       ‘But what are you?’ dared ask the cub.

       ‘I am same like you, a wolf, a she-wolf, that is,’ smiled the animal in the darkness. It gently nudged the cub toward its belly. ‘You were almost easten by a mountain cat. Here, I’ve lost my cubs and I’m full of milk. Why don’t you have some?’

        Then,” here John slowed down his voice and distinguished carefully between the words, as if fully enjoying each impression the cub was experiencing, “the cub felt a scent somehow familiar and forgotten. In the dark, it pushed its head toward the big animal, it felt the scent of its fur and the strange forgotten smell, and finally it felt a trickle of milk coming down toward its muzzle. It inhaled the smell, feeling suddenly safe and warm, it sucked a bit of the good liquid and while warmth was filling up its belly, and the cosy darkness surrounded it, it thought to itself, ‘So, this is how home... feels like...’ Then it closed its eyes, cuddled close to the she-wolf, and for the first time in its life, it peacefully fell deep into sleep.”

      

 

 

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