Chapter Seven, In Which Tain Bb And Hello? Met Trampeter-At-Down, And Bumblebee Hangs In The Air
In the house there was only one room, but this didn’t feel at all uncomfortable. Plenty of air, plenty of light, a high ceiling. In one corner – a low bed, in another – a table with crockery. And also a fireplace in the centre and a spiral staircase to the roof, entwined with cast-iron lilies. In front of the fire a young man was squatting and thoughtfully moving the coals with a poker.
Dumb raised his index finger to his lips and with the look of a conspirator winked at Hello? and Tain.
‘Shhhh…’ he whispered. ‘One is thinking,’ nodding at the person by the fire. And straight away started to laugh, seeing how the guests had frozen in indecision by the door.
‘Have a seat, my jolly friends,’ the person-by-the-fire said calmly, without turning his head.
‘Thank you,’ Hello? thanked him reservedly and, throwing off her sandals, curled her legs up in a cosy deep armchair, glancing around the room with curiosity. Pictures hung on the walls. Figurines of people and animals, carved from wood and stone, decorated the mantel piece. A multitude of books, some with unusual ancient covers, and various other curiosities pointed to the wide variety of their host’s interests. But without doubt it was a small bronze trumpet with three valves, standing separately on a marble stand, that drew the eye over everything else. It seemed that it wasn’t just a musical instrument but a certain vital part of the Light Forest and everything with which it was associated. Hello? jumped out of the armchair and, stepping barefoot across the wooden floor, moved closer. The tarnished bronze, scratched and slightly battered in places, seemed to draw one to itself, evoking the strongest desire to touch it with the tips of one’s fingers and to feel all the indents in its surface.
‘Go ahead,’ said the man, glancing to the side, ‘pick it up if you want.’
‘No, no…I couldn’t possibly,’ Hello? became embarrassed.
Dumb started to laugh and Tain joined in. The man by the fire turned around, a smile on his face as well.
‘The Trumpeter-at-Dawn,’ he introduced himself. ‘My friends call me the Trumpeter-at-Dawn.’ And again he smiled.
Tain Bb and Hello? stared at him, trying to reconcile their first impression of this man with what they had heard about him before. ‘He looks like a wizard – only a young one,’ Tain decided, a little confused by the small beard and bright eyes of the Trumpeter, which were the same shade of green as Dumb’s. As for Hello?, her eyebrows were flapping like the wings of a hummingbird , expressing the whole range of feelings that she was experiencing at that moment. Several dozen heroes of romance, starting with Byron, Romeo, Captain Kirk, d’Artagnan, and ending with tanned surfers, soaked with sea surf, and desperate racing-car drivers, now all merged for her into one figure… ‘Tanned, well-built, mysterious, and the eyes…eyes like emerald, sealed with a bright green flame,’ she thought, holding herself by her right ear-lobe in confusion.
‘You’ll rip your ear off,’ Tain Bbb whispered to her and started to introduce himself, but the Trumpeter-at-Dawn interrupted him softly:
‘I know who you are, where you come from, and why you came to the Light Forest. But don’t ask me how I came to know this, I wouldn’t be able to explain in any case. So, today you’ll spend the night with me, and tomorrow,’ he glanced from Tain Bb to Hello? ‘Tomorrow your paths will diverge.’
‘He sees everything! He knows everything!’ Dumb raised his eyes and hands. ‘O-Oh, the Great Trumpeter-at-Dawn. But you see, my friend here,’ Dumb slapped Tain on the shoulder, ‘is interested in one question. I don’t know whether you’d be able to answer it. What are we having for dinner today?’
Tain blushed. He hadn’t wanted to ask anything of the kind.
‘Tell your friend,’ the Trumpeter-at-Dawn replied heatedly, ‘for dinner we are having Kesge.’
‘Kesge is good,’ Dumb answered, business-like. ‘Fine, you two birds twitter together whilst Tain and I go for some water.’
And, clanging empty buckets, the friends went out the door.
Left alone with the little-known young man, Hello? didn’t feel at all awkward. On the contrary, she moved around the house easily and freely, inspecting pictures and all kinds of things.
‘If you want, we can go up on the roof and I’ll show you something,’ suggested the Trumpeter-at-Dawn.
The roof was a fenced-in square of medium proportions with a ping pong table in the centre. The Trumpeter-at-Dawn carefully led Hello? to the very edge and made a wide semi-circular gesture.
‘Look,’ he exclaimed.
And there really was something to look at. The Light Forest lay in front of them in all its green, yellow and red magnificence, lit by the rays of the setting sun.
‘O-o-oh!...Cool!’ Hello? wanted to admire, but only the first part of the phrase resounded in the evening air. The second word, feeling awkward, changed its mind about coming out and, huddling in on itself, quietly crawled into that dull place inhabited by words like ‘ace’, ‘well good’, ‘wow’ and ‘yuck’.
Hello?’s attention was captured by a large rock that lay in the very corner and reminded her a little of a diving stand.
‘That rock is the highest point in the Light Forest. And in the morning when the sun is coming up I climb up on it and play the song of the new day.’ Explained the Trumpeter-at-Dawn.
Hello? hesitated. She had a question on the tip of her tongue, but she hadn’t decided whether to pose it. Finally she asked bravely:
‘Listen, what about friends, acquaintances? Do you visit anyone? Or does anyone come to see you?’ Girls for example, she added to herself.
‘I can’t leave here. For all the many years I’ve lived here I’ve had to play the song at dawn, the song of the Light Forest. That’s the Rule, and it can’t be broken. The thing is, the song and I, we’re all part of the Light Forest. And it doesn’t matter whether it exists in reality or in people’s minds. What’s important is something else. It was, is, and always will be. There will always be a place in the world for Light Ideas and Light Deeds,’ the Trumpeter fell silent for a short while.
‘And as for friends…yes, sometimes Dumb will bring me new friends, but only for a day. And in the morning I’m left on my own again, waiting for the next meeting,’ he said a little sorrowfully, but firmly.
Hello? became terribly sad. She couldn’t understand why this man who was wonderful in every way should have to spend all his life alone and play every morning, even if it was the most wonderful song.
‘Should we play?’ she nodded in the direction of the table-tennis table, so as to rid herself of this sad thought. ‘Is there a ball?’
‘Well,’ smiled the Trumpeter-at-Dawn, ‘we have a ball…the daddy of all balls.’ He made a strange noise with his lips, sharp and buzzing. A large goldish bumblebee flew by with a rumble, landed on one of the bats, and began to jump up and down on it enthusiastically, precisely imitating the flight of a normal ball.
‘Oh!’ cried Hello?, rotating the bat in her hand and noticing with surprise how the bumblebee yielded to all the movements of her wrist. ‘But doesn’t it hurt it?’‘Of course not,’ the Trumpeter-at-Dawn assured her. ‘Its lightning reactions allow it to only barely touch the bat at the point of each shot. Then it flies off where you aim it, just like in the real game. Try it.’
‘What? Can’t we just play with a normal ball?’ asked Hello?, taking the first serve.
‘Of course you can, why not?’ the Trumpeter-at-Dawn replied happily, sending the striped little ball into the other half of the table. ‘We’re high up here and down there are such bushes…never mind a ping-pong ball, you wouldn’t find a football.’
The bumblebee really was brilliant. It flew like it was supposed to do, albeit sometimes braking, thoughtfully hanging in the air for several seconds, which, however, only added to the fun.
‘It’s tired,’ explained the Trumpeter-at-Dawn. ‘It needs to sleep.’ Meanwhile the sun was already setting,
and as soon as it happened the Light Forest blazed up all around with a million bright little bulbs. They twinkled and flowed with various colours. It seemed as if dozens of Christmas garlands hung on every tree and bush.
‘Aaaah,’ Hello? could only sigh, ‘How beautiful it is!’
‘Every day when the sun goes down, and the evening catches up with the day, I look upon this picture and never tire of admiring it. And by the way, do you know who the main director of this show is?’
Hello? shook her head.
‘Dumb.’
‘Dumb? What’s he got to do with it?’ Hello? asked with bewilderment.
‘What? Has he really not told you? Well, he meets people at the borders of the forest, they tell him their stories, and from them he puts songs together.’
‘Oh, yes, I’ve heard all about that,’ Hello? interrupted. ‘Yes, he puts songs together, then he gathers them in a pile like fallen leaves, and covers them with soil. I don’t know why but I don’t like that at all.’
‘Don’t be like that. You haven’t heard the rest, the Trumpeter-at-Dawn patiently explained. ‘In that very place after a couple of weeks special blue bushes begin to grow. And it happens that on these very bushes particularly large fireflies settle. They are safe there, they are fine there, but the main thing is the fireflies get the strength there for an especially bright illumination, so that they can scatter it throughout the Light Forest. As a matter of fact it’s for this very reason that the forest becomes light at night. Therein lies the delicate work of our wonderful Master – the Dumbheaded Traveller, and this work is his alone, and nobody else’s.’
Stunned by what she had heard, Hello? was at a loss as to what to say. How could it be? That bumpkin in an idiot’s hat, so annoying with his dumb jokes, was in fact directly involved in this wonder of wonders? And, what’s more, was even one of its creators. She couldn’t understand it.
‘Mind you don’t fall,’ the Trumpeter-at-Dawn began to laugh. ‘Right, let’s go downstairs.’
And they went down into the room where Tain Bb and Dumb were heatedly discussing the best method of cooking ‘X’s and ‘Y’s.
‘Looks like they’ve made friends,’ thought Hello?, looking at Dumb in a completely new light.She remembered all her recent annoyance and, feeling a little guilty, quietly sat in the corner, and cleaned a whole pan-full of potatoes. And then she also swept the porch.
The Trumpeter-at-Dawn cooked Kesge, which turned out to be potato with mushrooms, and they enjoyed a very tasty meal. After which the host gave everyone a sleeping bag, and, having wished each other good night, they all fell asleep.
And only Hello?, who had waited till everyone was breathing peacefully and evenly, tiptoed across the room and went outside, carefully closing the door behind her. She returned before morning and, just as carefully, without waking anyone, got under her covers and fell silent. The night gradually disappeared. And in the rustling of the leaves and the outline of the distant hills one could discern the beginnings of a mighty movement. The orchestra of the forest fell silent, obeying an invisible conductor, paused, following a movement of his hand, in order to release in unison a wave of universal morning jubilation. The Light Forest stood still and waited for a signal.
And the signaller was already awake. As usual at this time, he lay with his eyes open and sang several notes to himself. Hello? wasn’t sleeping either, observing what was happening through closed eyelashes.
The Trumpeter got up, slowly washed himself, and did a few exercises. Then he got dressed and, winking at his reflection in the mirror, started to make his way to the place where his trumpet was – but froze, startled.
No, no! Everything was in order, the trumpet was were it usually stood. Only it seemed completely different. Bright gold with a red sheen, it shone with all its bronze might, reflecting the surprised face of the Trumpeter and Hello?’s eyebrows, which were drawn together in embarrassment.
‘I really don’t know…I’ve probably overstepped my bounds,’ she said quietly. ‘There, by the stream, I found some very fine sand and used it to clean your trumpet. I tried very hard not to rush and did everything very carefully. I hope I didn’t spoil anything.’ Her voice shook and she stood in agitation with bright red cheeks. The Trumpeter looked at her and was lost for words. A hot wave of gratitude rose straight from the bottom of his heart and stuck in his throat, preventing any words from coming out.
Without taking her eyes from him, the girl sighed softly and added more firmly:
‘I want you to know I’ve done what I came here for: I’ve cleaned my Tarnished Path. And thank you for making me understand how to do that. And more. Every day from this morning forth I want your trumpet to reflect our faces together. Trust me, I will look after it, so that this bronze and our feelings will never tarnish. If it’s what you want too, I’m ready to stay.’
Instead of answering the Trumpeter hugged her, and they stood like that, maybe for just a second and maybe for ages.
‘It’s time,’ he said.
They got up onto the platform and the Trumpeter easily jumped on the rock. And took the mouth-piece to his lips. Hello? felt her body begin to tremble, just like tightened string, reacting to the gigantic vibration that rose up all at once through the tense air. In complete silence it formed a circle and rolled through the Light Forest in an instant with vibrant energy, bending down the tree-tops on its way. The Morning Song resounded, high, clear and festive. The Forest breathed out and a deafening cascade of sounds marked the start of a new day. The first ray of sunlight, reflected in the shiny bronze, provided the signaller with another, hand-made, beam as a sign of its disposition, following the good news.
The song had stopped. It was short and beautiful, rather like any few notes sounding at the right place and time.
‘I’m staying,’ announced Hello? to her friends when she got back to the room. The Trumpeter stood behind her back and looked confused. Dumb and Tain Bb had already gotten up by this time and, to shake off the remnants of their dreams, they wrestled drowsily, muttering at the same time, ‘Hey, You?’
Having heard this news they stopped playing the fool.
‘Really?’ Tain Bb was surprised, and looked at the confused Trumpeter, adding straight away: ‘And why not? Isn’t that right, Dumb?’
Dumb didn’t say anything. He just patted the Trumpeter on the shoulder and carefully took Hello? by the wrist and kissed her refined fingers.
What happened next? Well, something not at all important. The last thing that Tain remembered as he reached the bottom of the hill was two tiny figures.
They stood on the roof of the house, holding hands, and were waving goodbye to him. ‘Maybe it’s forever,’ Tain was poked by the unpleasant thought but, pining for but a second, he forgot about it and hurried to follow Dumb with a light heart. The business on account of which he had come here in the first place was still unfinished, and the problem was awaiting its resolution. Full of fervour and confidence in himself, he walked into parts unknown to meet the Head Feathermuncher himself.