Singing Wind: A Short Story

bright noonday sun, and Singing Wind’s beauty was such that he decided to help her. Therefore he said,

  “And what is this poor puny monster you fear? Why, I could crush it with one flick of my little claw,” he told her, and held up his paw. But Singing Wind hesitated, for she remembered the Bear.

  “Great Lion, the Witch named Alitha is coming, and- ” she began, but the Cat cut her off. A look of bright terror came over his face.

  “The Witch will burn both of us right down to ashes! There’s nothing I can do against a monster like that! But go to the Snake, and perhaps he will help you. I dare not. Now go!” the Cat said, and fled into his cave.

  Singing Wind was frightened, but she still kept on, for what else could she do except wait for the skull?

  In the meantime the Witch had burned her way through the thicket, and came to the cave of the Mountain Lion.

  “Milk licker! Where has that ugly girl gone, for I know she came here to see you!” the Witch demanded.

  And the Lion poked only his nose from his cave, and with trembling and terror he answered the Witch.

  “She went that way, oh great one, to see the old Snake. I gave her no help, I promise!” he cried. The Witch said no more to the Cat, and rolled off, and before long she had almost caught up with her prey.

  “Now I’ve got you!” she cried, coming close indeed. But Singing Wind reached for her bundle, and pulled out the bottle of water inside. She poured it all out on the path right behind her, and at once there arose a wide lake between them. The lake was so wide, and so icy and deep, that she knew it would take quite some time to get around it. That gave her time to get to the Snake.

  Before too much longer, the girl reached a place where a deep hole was dug, and that, she thought, must be where the Snake lived.

  “Great Snake, there’s no one to save me but you, for a monster is chasing me that no one can resist,” she cried. And the Snake heard her cries, and slithered swiftly to meet her. He hissed when he saw her, her beauty was so great, and he thought he would help her, if only for that.

  “So tell me, then. . . what is this poor little monster you fear? I will crush it with one flick of my tail,” he boasted, and rattled his tine. And Singing Wind was happy, for the Snake seemed sure. But she thought of the Bear and the Cat, and she feared.

  “Great Snake, the evil Witch Alitha has followed me here, and unless you destroy her I fear all is lost,” she told him.

  “Sss, no!” the Snake hissed, “Not the Witch! She will roast me for supper and burn you to ashes! You are lost!” the Snake told her, and dived underground.

  Singing Wind was in terror now, for there was nowhere else to go, and before long the Witch would overtake her. But she still kept on, for what else could she do?

  Indeed, before long the old Witch rolled up close, laughing and spewing her burning hot coals.

  And Singing Wind reached in her bag one more time, to take out the very last thing that she had, and that was the mussel shell, shiny and white. She crushed the shell and threw it behind her, and at once the ground was covered with glittering diamonds, so many and so bright that the Witch could not count them.

  She was sure of catching the girl at that point, so she stopped there awhile and took her own form. She picked up the diamonds as fast as she could, but there were so many it took quite some time. And then when she finally picked them all up, she found a little bag in the folds of her dress to put them inside, and the bag she hid in the hole of a tree, where it would be safe till she came back for it later. Then at last she took form as a skull once again, and rolled off after the girl she hated.

  Singing Wind at last had come to a river, and it blocked her way forward completely. It was too wide to swim and too deep to wade, and at last she despaired of escaping.

  But at the edge of the river she spied a tall boy, and not far down the bank was a solid wood hut. She had nothing to lose, and no time to think, so she went to the handsome young man.

  “Boy, there’s a monster that intends to destroy me, and none of the Beasts will help. Can you hide me awhile, till the monster is gone?” she pleaded.

  And the boy saw her beauty, and he loved her at once, but he said nothing of that just yet.

  “My name is Little Bear, and of course I will. Go inside the hut and hide under the bed, and if the monster does come then I’ll kill it for you,” he promised. Singing Wind didn’t believe him, but took his advice, hoping to flee back the way she had come. The Witch might give up looking, sooner or later.

  So she went in the hut and crawled under the bed, and there she waited for the skull to come. Little Bear stayed by the river outside, calm as can be, with a red wooden club in his hand.

  In time the skull came, hateful and ugly, her eyes glowing red as hot coals. She saw the wide river and the tall young man, and Singing Wind nowhere in sight.

  “Have you seen an ugly girl pass by, young man? If you have, tell me quickly which way did she go?” the Witch threatened, spitting out a few sparks.

  Little Bear shrugged his strong shoulders a bit, either not scared at all or hiding it well.

  “The girl is inside, and she is my guest. So turn tail and run, old Monster,” he told her. The Witch was so shocked by this threat from the boy that at first she was speechless, but soon flew into a rage.

  “Very well, then. I’ll burn you both to ashes!” she screamed, and her eyes began to glow.

  But before she could spew out her flaming hot coals, the boy raised the sacred red club high above her. And then, with one leap and a terrible cry, he smashed down the club between her eyes.

  The skull cracked and shattered into a thousand small pieces, then Little Bear told his guest to come see.

  Singing Wind stared at the broken up skull, all that was left of the terrible Witch, and then she looked back at the boy who had killed her.

  “But how?” she asked wonderingly, touching a piece. She wondered, at first, if he was even truly human. For what normal man could have done such a thing?

  “It was only a skull after all, you know. If you hit hard enough, it will break,” he replied.

  “But the Beasts were in terror, and my people as well,” she insisted, still not quite believing it. Little Bear shrugged his shoulders.

  “Ah, so was I, but I love you, you see, and how else was I ever to save you, if I lacked the courage to try?” he asked.

  “You might have been killed, and us both burned to ashes,” she said, but her heart was full.

  “Maybe so, but we weren’t, and I still love you dearly,” he told her, with a practical smile. She laughed, for what else could she answer to that? So she took him with joy, and their love was deep.

  Together they ground up the skull into powder, and burned it to ashes in a fire they built. In the spring they set out from that place by the river, and soon found her people not far across the Plain.

  The people rejoiced at the story they told, and the death of the Witch filled them all with awe. The headman was shamed, for it was whispered among the huts that a boy and a girl had done what no leader ever dared.

  In time all that people took Little Bear to lead them, and Singing Wind stood beside him in all that he did, and they lived many years in joy.

  And in days long after, when they both slept with God, the people still remembered the tale of their deeds, till at last they are told here today.

  The End

  Dear Reader,

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  First chapter from the novel “Unclouded Day”

  Brian found the amulet in an old cigar box in the attic. He wasn’t looking for it, or anything in particular really. He just liked rooting around up there sometimes, especially on days when Mama was in a bad mood. He’d learned long ago that it was best to disappear for a while at times like that, if he didn’t want a smack in the face. Out of sight, out of mind.

  She’d finally passed out on the couch around two a.m. last night, and Brian had known even then that she’d probably wake up with a killer hangover the next morning. That was never something you wanted to stick around for; not if you were smart, so he’d planned to get up early and take Brandon fishing for a while. At least till she had a chance to mellow out a little bit.

  But there’d been a cold gray rain falling when he opened his eyes that morning, forcing him to rethink his plans. It wouldn’t do, to take Brandon out in the weather like that; the kid was always catching colds. Bran was still two weeks shy of four years old; a bit more than ten years younger than his big brother, and Brian loved him above all things in the world.

  So instead he’d come up to the attic, to root around amongst