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psalm_onethirtyone) wrote2007-03-29 12:24 am
psalm_onethirtyone) wrote2007-03-29 12:24 am
"You Have had a Cruel Mother, Willie, and I Have had Another..."
So Manon gave me the photofic challenge 'Justin, Luther, frog' and I misread it as 'Percy, Luther, frog' and went EHEEEE they would be the sweetest randomest things ever! and then realised that my brain fails and wrote the correct photofic, but I had this idea in my head and. and. and then it turned into a full-length ficlet--!
And look! Rampant symbolism! A dorky baby Percy!
The wise man came to the forest when Percy was just eight years old. He was old, his hair was grey, his clothes were faded and torn, and he was terribly wounded in his side; Percy found him sitting beneath a tree while he looking for acorns. He'd never seen a man before in his life, and he gazed at this one in surprise, not knowing what he was. At first Percy thought he might be a rock, because he held so still and was so grey and brown and wrinkled and worn, just like the tall stones around the base of the mountain, or the worn rock by the river. Then, as he watched, he saw that the man was breathing.
After some thought, he came up and touched him. The man made a soft sighing sound and smiled at him. The smile was also like the rocks.
Then Percy discovered the blood. Rock don't bleed, his head told him, sounding a bit like Heli. He sat on the ground beside the man and wrinkled up his face in thought. There didn't seem to be any urgency. After a while he went down to the river and brought back the wooden pail full of water, the one that Heli had tied onto the tree hanging over the banks. He moved the man's shirt and washed the blood off steadily, and for some reason it seemed the right thing to do, though he had never done anything like it before. When the blood was washed away he paused. The wound was bleeding afresh.
"What should I do?" he asked.
The man smiled.
Percy put his hands over the wound, very gently, remembering how much it hurt when Heli used to pull splinters out of his fingers, and those weren't even very bad hurts, not like this. But he put his hands over the wound, and when he took them away there was no wound. The wise man was whole. Percy looked up at him and he smiled again. He seemed to be always smiling.
"It's better now, ain't it?"
"Yes," said the man.
And he came to live in the forest.
He lived in a small cave not far from the acorn tree. Sometimes Percy brought him things to eat, or things to look at. Every day the wise man seemed more like part of the earth, more like a rock or a twisted tree, deep-rooted in the ground. Percy still did not know he was a man. Because he bled, he must be something alive, so Percy supposed maybe he was a kind of bear, except he didn't have enough hair. He was shaped like Percy himself, but since Percy had never even seen himself except in the troubled reflection of the river, he couldn't tell that.
Whatever he was, he was Percy's only.
Once Percy brought him a small, fat green frog from a pool close to the river.
"Look!" he said. "He's all funny and he chirps all night."
The wise man nodded without speaking.
"Did you ever hear a frog chirpin'?"
"Yes."
Although the man spoke very little, he was never abrupt; his brief answers were just as comfortable as though they'd been long. Percy knew he was listening.
"I'm gonna have ta keep him wet 'til I put him back in the pond, or he'll get sick. That's what Heli says. Heli tells me all kindsa stuff."
The man listened.
"Like about how ta get home in the dark, and stuff. The trees tell you how. You just have ta listen to them. And the ground, and the animals and all. I found my way home all the time like that. Heli's always right. She knows pretty much everything."
"Sister?"
"Yeah! Ma doesn't talk a lot. She does lots. She fixes our clothes and like that. But Heli learnt me how to hunt, and some days I go huntin' for supper. Heli does it most often, though. Ma's teachin' me how ta sew so I can fix my own clothes, and how ta cook so I don't get hungry if I have ta look after myself." He smiled proudly. "To-night I'm cookin' supper by myself, it's rabbit."
The wise man smiled.
"And I know how to clean and plant stuff, too! Ma made a clearin' in the woods and cut down the trees and all, and she has these little boxes of seeds and like that, and she plants them and they come up good to eat. She says you have ta plant beans with their little eyes lookin' up so they can see God. They got these scrunchy little eyes in their middles."
"I know."
"Do you plant stuff too?"
"Yes."
Percy curled his toes to show how pleased he was. "You want me ta bring you some seeds and stuff?"
The man shook his head, and closed his eyes. There was sun coming down on them, and Percy put the frog carefully in the bowl of water he'd brought him in, just to make sure he didn't get too hot. Then he sighed happily.
"I'm glad you're here."
"So am I," said the wise man.
When Percy was twelve the man died. He'd come out to bring him a bowl of acorns and venison that he'd cooked himself, and found the man lying in the sun outside the cave. The man had always loved the sun, and Percy, who didn't know what was happening, thought he was sleeping. He shook him gently.
The man opened his eyes.
"Hi!" Percy said.
"Good-bye," said the wise man.
"Where you goin'?"
"Dying."
Percy frowned. He'd seen animals die when they were shot, and trees die when they were old, but he'd never seen a man die. "What's gonna happen?"
"I'll be gone."
"Can I fix it like last time? I fixed it last time. I can do that again!"
"Not now." The wise man smiled at him with great love, and placed Percy's hands over his side where the wound used to be. "Remember." Percy was still frowning, more perplexed than upset. He felt a knotted scar in the man's side that wasn't there before.
"Well, what if I--" he began to say, and then he realised that the man wasn't breathing any more, just like a deer brought down would cease to breathe after a while. It troubled him that there was no arrow to remove, no outward sign that would make it understandable. The scar might have explained something--Percy had plenty of scars from places that had once bled--if it had ever been there before, but its new presence made no sense.
For a long time Percy sat with the wise man, and then with great care he pulled him into the sun, for the sun had moved, and sat him against a rock that he almost blended into; and then he put the bowl of venison and acorns beside him.
"There. I guess that's okay."
The wise man just smiled.
And look! Rampant symbolism! A dorky baby Percy!
The wise man came to the forest when Percy was just eight years old. He was old, his hair was grey, his clothes were faded and torn, and he was terribly wounded in his side; Percy found him sitting beneath a tree while he looking for acorns. He'd never seen a man before in his life, and he gazed at this one in surprise, not knowing what he was. At first Percy thought he might be a rock, because he held so still and was so grey and brown and wrinkled and worn, just like the tall stones around the base of the mountain, or the worn rock by the river. Then, as he watched, he saw that the man was breathing.
After some thought, he came up and touched him. The man made a soft sighing sound and smiled at him. The smile was also like the rocks.
Then Percy discovered the blood. Rock don't bleed, his head told him, sounding a bit like Heli. He sat on the ground beside the man and wrinkled up his face in thought. There didn't seem to be any urgency. After a while he went down to the river and brought back the wooden pail full of water, the one that Heli had tied onto the tree hanging over the banks. He moved the man's shirt and washed the blood off steadily, and for some reason it seemed the right thing to do, though he had never done anything like it before. When the blood was washed away he paused. The wound was bleeding afresh.
"What should I do?" he asked.
The man smiled.
Percy put his hands over the wound, very gently, remembering how much it hurt when Heli used to pull splinters out of his fingers, and those weren't even very bad hurts, not like this. But he put his hands over the wound, and when he took them away there was no wound. The wise man was whole. Percy looked up at him and he smiled again. He seemed to be always smiling.
"It's better now, ain't it?"
"Yes," said the man.
And he came to live in the forest.
He lived in a small cave not far from the acorn tree. Sometimes Percy brought him things to eat, or things to look at. Every day the wise man seemed more like part of the earth, more like a rock or a twisted tree, deep-rooted in the ground. Percy still did not know he was a man. Because he bled, he must be something alive, so Percy supposed maybe he was a kind of bear, except he didn't have enough hair. He was shaped like Percy himself, but since Percy had never even seen himself except in the troubled reflection of the river, he couldn't tell that.
Whatever he was, he was Percy's only.
Once Percy brought him a small, fat green frog from a pool close to the river.
"Look!" he said. "He's all funny and he chirps all night."
The wise man nodded without speaking.
"Did you ever hear a frog chirpin'?"
"Yes."
Although the man spoke very little, he was never abrupt; his brief answers were just as comfortable as though they'd been long. Percy knew he was listening.
"I'm gonna have ta keep him wet 'til I put him back in the pond, or he'll get sick. That's what Heli says. Heli tells me all kindsa stuff."
The man listened.
"Like about how ta get home in the dark, and stuff. The trees tell you how. You just have ta listen to them. And the ground, and the animals and all. I found my way home all the time like that. Heli's always right. She knows pretty much everything."
"Sister?"
"Yeah! Ma doesn't talk a lot. She does lots. She fixes our clothes and like that. But Heli learnt me how to hunt, and some days I go huntin' for supper. Heli does it most often, though. Ma's teachin' me how ta sew so I can fix my own clothes, and how ta cook so I don't get hungry if I have ta look after myself." He smiled proudly. "To-night I'm cookin' supper by myself, it's rabbit."
The wise man smiled.
"And I know how to clean and plant stuff, too! Ma made a clearin' in the woods and cut down the trees and all, and she has these little boxes of seeds and like that, and she plants them and they come up good to eat. She says you have ta plant beans with their little eyes lookin' up so they can see God. They got these scrunchy little eyes in their middles."
"I know."
"Do you plant stuff too?"
"Yes."
Percy curled his toes to show how pleased he was. "You want me ta bring you some seeds and stuff?"
The man shook his head, and closed his eyes. There was sun coming down on them, and Percy put the frog carefully in the bowl of water he'd brought him in, just to make sure he didn't get too hot. Then he sighed happily.
"I'm glad you're here."
"So am I," said the wise man.
When Percy was twelve the man died. He'd come out to bring him a bowl of acorns and venison that he'd cooked himself, and found the man lying in the sun outside the cave. The man had always loved the sun, and Percy, who didn't know what was happening, thought he was sleeping. He shook him gently.
The man opened his eyes.
"Hi!" Percy said.
"Good-bye," said the wise man.
"Where you goin'?"
"Dying."
Percy frowned. He'd seen animals die when they were shot, and trees die when they were old, but he'd never seen a man die. "What's gonna happen?"
"I'll be gone."
"Can I fix it like last time? I fixed it last time. I can do that again!"
"Not now." The wise man smiled at him with great love, and placed Percy's hands over his side where the wound used to be. "Remember." Percy was still frowning, more perplexed than upset. He felt a knotted scar in the man's side that wasn't there before.
"Well, what if I--" he began to say, and then he realised that the man wasn't breathing any more, just like a deer brought down would cease to breathe after a while. It troubled him that there was no arrow to remove, no outward sign that would make it understandable. The scar might have explained something--Percy had plenty of scars from places that had once bled--if it had ever been there before, but its new presence made no sense.
For a long time Percy sat with the wise man, and then with great care he pulled him into the sun, for the sun had moved, and sat him against a rock that he almost blended into; and then he put the bowl of venison and acorns beside him.
"There. I guess that's okay."
The wise man just smiled.
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