Tree Tops - Short Story

		Art
English	中文	Painting

Writing

TREE TOPS

Tree Tops
I have known ducks all my long, long life, you know. Even been friends with many. Living near a lake seeing as isolated, I figure its but natural. Them's fascinating birds. Every time I reckon I have them figured out when bam, thems surprise me with something a new. Each one's got a personality. There's the timid one, the show-off, the philosopher and the ever unlucky one. Now mind you, them's all a curious and gentle bunch. Fascinating, quite really. Go about their business sincere like and don't meddle with each other or other birds or creatures. Good parents you know. Good, good parents. Sure them get all fighting like at mating time. But then who in God's kingdom don't? Yes sir, them's good, humble birds. Not given to airs. Live simple like and think simple.

This here story was happened a long, long time ago. Quite far offs too. Pfumbi, told it to me. He was the duck that lived here on this lake eight some years ago. Good friends, Pfumbi and I. Good, honest duck. Lived by the big rock you see next right to the big, old oak tree. Nested there every year, him and his dame. The story was told to him by his pa, from his pa and then his pa and then his pa for quite a ways back, who knew Prrthu, you know the duck in the story. So its real. It really happened, although like I said a ways back and a ways off. And Pfumbi was a good, honest duck. Yes sir, a good, honest duck. Good old Pfumbi!

Well, as I was saying, the name of the duck in this here story was Prrthu. An extraordinary duck, as you will's agree with me. Prrthu lived a ways back and a ways off. Him, his dame and 7 teeny, weeny ones. Thems liked their lake and were a happy lot. But something was happening to the lake they were on. The little fish in the lake were disappearing fast, at least in them shallows. And you know, ducks live on the little fish in them shallows. The little duckies were but a week old and needed food as them's were a growing. Things were okay for a while. There were still some little fish here and there and the Prrthus made as best they could. But with them's feeding and with whatever else was happening to the lake the little fish slowly were gone.

That's difficult for a ma and pa, you know, seeing their little ones starve. But what could they do? There wasn't none lake nearby and the little ones could not fly, so even a far off lake wouldn't done any good. It was hard times. Yes sir, sure was hard times. Them and the little ones paddled and paddled the lake, but no good. Sure there were some big fish in the further deeps, but what good would them do. Thems were bigger than ma and pa duck even. The ducks paddled and dove every nook and cranny of the lake. Even searched the little stream that ran into the lake. Now the stream was really just a little trickle. How could there be any fish in a little trickle, you might be tempting to ask. But see them's were desperate and so their searching was desperate. They also searched for worms near the shore, but them lived in the rocks with none. They searched for dead grass hoppers or crickets even, but save for one or two here and there, none. Not enough to live on, much less grow and be happy on.

And so the days passed. The little ones got littler. Their shinny feathers no longer shinny, but stuck out them like oh so many little black pins. They became quite so ugly, them poor little duckies and so quite sick too. They grew weak and could no longer swim with ma and pa and sat huddled in the nest. Ma sat with them comforting as best she could. Pa continued his search - the lake, the shore, the trickle and the grass. Round and round he went. Paddling, diving, searching and digging with no luck. He was frustrated. Yes sir, he was frustrated. Surely there must be food to be had he thinks to his self. Everything else seemed fine. The trees were green and tall, the grass lush, the big fish swimming in lazy circles, the clams brown as ever, the butterflies flitted just as many. But nothing that they could eat was to be found. No worms, no little fish, far too few little dead insects.

Several more days passed. The little ones looked even worse. Ma was losing hope and sat over them little ones with a brave smile and watery eyes. She had never seen such hard times. No sir, never such hard times. She was angry at the lake for stealing her little fish and starving them children. She was angry at the little insects that flew too quick or jumped too fast for her to catch. She was angry at the butterflies for they were content with the nectar. She was angry at the rocks for them could not hold worms. She was angry. And Pa was desperate. The constant search had made him worn and tired. He paddled along muttering and mumbling to his self, some times coming to a stop and napping without his knowing. Then shake his self wake and continue on the circle. Paddling, diving, searching and digging but no luck.

And so tired, he returned to the nest with nothing once again. Ma had stopped asking if he had found food. For what was the use? Prrthu sat down beside ma, sighed and fell into a twisted, tormented sleep, for sleep life is but a reflection of wake life. Suddenly clams floated into his dreams. Nice, big, juicy clams. They were large and many and they were open. Ah, the tasty, juicy, soft flesh. Prrthu's mouth was watering even in his sleep. The Prrthus were enjoying the clams and each one had as much as they wanted and them babies were soft and plump in the dreams with smooth yellow feathers. And ma looked so beautiful, not at all worried, and strained as she has been. It was a long dream.

Awakening he looks at ma and sighed "If only we could get them clams open we could get as much as we wanted for there are clams a plenty". But clams as you all know are not easy to open and as hard as rocks. Yes sir, hard as rocks they are. Ma looked at pa thoughtfully. "May be if we tried hard enough with our beaks they might open". "No, they are too hard for our beaks" says pa duck. But ma, you see was a tough old duck and would not give up so easily. "Why don't you bring some here and I will try to open one" says ma. Seeing as there was nothing to lose pa goes a shore to get some clams. There were numerous at the bottom a few feet deep. He dove and collected a few and returned to ma.

Ma pecked it, rolled it, bit it and stomped it, but them shells were just too hard. It was frustrating, you know - all this good food right in her beak only separated by a little shell, but no way of getting to it. Pa joined in. He was stronger than ma but still not strong enough for them shells. He bit on them till his jaws ached, but nothing. The clam looked untouched. And so they spent several hours messing with it. The little ones also joined in for they knew there was food to be had inside them shells. Then ma's head lit up like with an idea. "Pa, why don't you drop it from a tree like I see them crows do all the time to break sticks for their nests"? Pa looked at ma stunned. Good heavens what an idea! It was good to have a smart one for a dame, he reckoned.

And so pa flew to the top of the big old pine tree and dropped the clam. But alas! The shell just fell and rolled some, intact. He tried again several times at different trees and rocks but all no good. Then ma tried even though she was so weak. Still the shell was hard to crack. They gave up after a while. What a pitiable sight it was indeed. Yes sir, down right pitiable. They sat drooping with heads bent. They were beaten and starved with food just a shell away. Suddenly, pa sat up and exclaimed, "I will fly higher and drop the shell". "But" - ma says with a touch of sadness "them tree tops is about as high as we ducks can fly". But pa was angry. He would not listen to logic. Seeing his family starved and suffering drove him insane like.

"I will fly as high as I can if that's the last thing I do" exclaimed Prrthu. And so he started flying. He flew above the tree tops quite easily. He was so insane like. He had never done that before. It was quite scary to be quite oh so high. He dropped the clam and flew down. He reckoned that it would smash open this time. Ma came flying in too. But as they flew near they could see that it wasn't so. They looked and rolled it over. Not even a crack! Curses and damnation! What miserable life! But Prrthu was not one to give up so easily. He picked up the shell again in his beak and started flying. Round and round he went, and higher and higher he flew. Then he dropped the shell. Once again they both flew in for the inspection. And again the same result. Not a single crack. No sir, not a single crack. Prrthu was not beaten yet. With a deep breath, he bravely picked up the shell and flew again. Round and round he went, higher and higher he flew still. And dropped it. The shell came tumbling down and landed with a sharp knock bounced several times and rolled to a stop. They hurried over a look. No, not again. Them clams were just too hard to be cracked. They rolled it over and God almighty if their eyes did not light up. The smallest of cracks was on the other side. A ray of hope shining through that little crack. Yes sir, a ray of hope, God almighty. Thems were too afraid to celebrate and too overjoyed for sorrow. 'Fly again pa Prrthu, fly as high as you can. We are not licked yet' - ma says with a tremble in her voice.

And so Prrthu continued yet again. This time he flew with all his strength, as high as he could. Round and round he went and higher and higher yet. So high the tree tops were now almost gone. He never reckoned the lake could look so small. Everything was so different and grand here. He could see far and wide. He was in a different world. His wings were beating in a perfect rhythm as though they had been meant for it. Was he really flying so high. By Golly, wasn't that an eagle flying not too far oft? Prrthu was frightened yet calm. But the tree tops - what had happened to them tree tops? Who had told them that tree tops were about as high as ducks could fly? Prrthu could not remember. But all them ducks knew that the tree tops were as high as they could fly. But yet … yet he was so far above it right here.

And then he dropped the shell. As he soon as he let go he realized that he had absolutely no doubt that the shell would smash open. It was as though he had somehow known it all along. He slowly flew down to look. Soon he could see that the shell had indeed broken to pieces and ma was standing with tears running down her eyes. "My hero" - she softly sobbed. Pa was embarrassed like. "Well lets get some of them to the little ones", he said awkwardly. The little ones danced and shrieked when they saw ma and pa with food. They gulped it down, shrieking all the time. Oh how sweet it tasted and oh so soft and juicy. They had never eaten anything that tasted quite like it. Oh how sweet! The little ones ate noisily while ma and pa looked at them with tears in their eyes. They now had as much food as they cared for.