Mike Shevdon: Sixty-One Nails

"Bbbbrrrraaaacckkkbiiirrrddd." The sound rolled like a glacier grinding gravel.

It knew her name?

I hesitated as I heard another noise. It was muffled, but it came from the figure pressed into the creature's chest.

Blackbird was laughing.

The scene transformed as my perceptions shifted.

The arms became a hug, though on a scale that was hard to believe. Blackbird's thrashing became her return of the enthusiastic greeting she was receiving. The growl was speech, though it was slowed and so low that most of it was wasted on my ears and found rest somewhere low in my gut.

The creature was still half-concealed in darkness, though it filled most of the tunnel. Grey shaggy hair covered it completely, sweeping down its shoulders and arms and hanging in loose dark curls where Blackbird was pressed against its chest, her arms buried up to her elbows in fur. Its head was wide where creamy tusks emerged from the darkly lined lips. Its eyes were black inside a ring of burnished gold and they were watching me.

Blackbird's feet descended slowly to the floor, though she clung with her face pressed into the fur for a moment longer before stepping back.

The creature swept its hand up then extended its palm, turning upwards.

"My apologies, Gramawl, I am losing my manners in the joy of seeing you again. He is called Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Gramawl." As she said this, she made a complicated gesture, rotating her middle finger downwards and then indicated me and made a little rabbit with her hands. As she was signing, I realised that the last sentence spoken was meant as a cue for me.

Blackbird stepped aside and I hesitantly stepped forward. I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. I staggered for a moment, unable to make sense of what was happening. I came to myself, clinging to the rail and finding my knees unsteady. Something washed over me, like waves of disorientation.

"I suppose I should have anticipated that." She turned back to Gramawl who retreated slightly into the dimness. She wobbled her fist and then tapped it sharply against her palm, then made a series of sharp sweeping motions, ushering Gramawl backwards.

Gramawl made a small circle to indicate us both then added an outstretched hand that tipped from side to side. The sensation dissipated and I found myself able to stand again.

"Yes, I know what you thought, but even if that were the case, that is a poor welcome, isn't it?" She pressed the knuckles of each hand together for emphasis. There was a reprimand in her voice, mixed with the sort of fondness reserved for a wellintentioned but over-protective uncle.

The shape retreated further into the dimness.

"Oh, stop it. Come out and meet Rabbit properly." She was both frustrated and amused.

Clearly the creature understood her speech as it came forward, this time fully into the light. As it emerged further I became aware that it was hunched over. Shoulders loomed behind the head, sloped down to fit in the tunnel. I thought it would shamble forward, but its step was light, full of grace and poise, like a dancer.

There was a seismic rumbling, accompanied by a complex bow and ending with an outstretched palm.

"He apologises for his misunderstanding, Rabbit, and offers you welcome, if you will accept it."

I gathered my wits.

"Thank you, Gramawl." I bowed in turn, keeping my eyes on the shaggy form. As he approached I became aware of his scent. I had thought he would smell like a beast, but instead there was the freshness of new-turned earth. I could see, now I was closer, that the shaggy fur was not matted and grey but layered with grey over brown, over black. It had the quality of a finely groomed horse's mane and I wondered who had spent time combing through that mountain of fur.

"I was about to explain that Rabbit had brought you a gift, Gramawl, but now I'm not sure whether he will want to part with it." She was comfortable speaking and signing at once, though Gramawl appeared to understand our speech well enough. Was there some etiquette to this?

Gramawl, lifted and then dropped his arms, pantomiming disappointment. At the same time his voice, if you could use that term, dropped in tone until I could only feel it rumbling in my bones. The hackles on my neck rose. I found myself stepping back.

"Only a little something," she teased, holding out her hand as if swinging a sweet by the wrapper or a tiny mouse by the tail and ignoring the shivering air.

The great eyes flicked back to me, luminescent in the overhead lights. His flat wet nose wriggled, seeking clues.

"Of course, that was before you offended my friend."

"I'm not offended," I interjected, a little too quickly.

He swept away the air with his hand, rubbed one palm against the other and added an opening and closing gesture.

Blackbird translated for me. "He says you have accepted his apology and that it was only a misunderstanding and now he would like to know what you've brought."

Blackbird stepped up to him, smiling, and affectionately stroked his cheek above her head. "I don't know, I bring people to meet you and this is how you welcome them. Why don't you show Gramawl his gift, Rabbit?"

Taking my cue, I reached into my jacket for the stones, but she shook her head. "Those are for a little later. Put the sack on the floor and leave it, somewhere in the open."

I stepped forward, still a little hesitant near Gramawl, and placed the sack on the ground and stepped back.

"You need to open it a little or it's not going to come out," Blackbird added.

"It'll fly off." I hesitated.

"That isn't going to be a problem, is it, Gramawl?"

There was a rhythmic huffing sound and my stomach vibrated to the sound of his amusement.

I stepped back to the sack and opened the neck, letting it fall open around the bird. It hopped out onto the sack in a flurry, getting its bearings. I stepped back again.

The bird was initially bemused to find itself underground. It looked about, putting its head on one side and then suddenly focused, darting sideways as it caught sight of the huge figure. It burst into the air in a clatter of wings.

There was a dull thump, like a pulse in the air. I blinked.

All was silent again. My brain caught up with my ears and I realised that Gramawl had taken it, mid-flight. I hadn't even seen him move.

Gramawl let out a low rumbling that might have been a purr if it had been high enough. He pressed his fist to his chest then touched his lips with his forefinger, opening his hand into a fluttering motion.

"He says it tastes of light and air," Blackbird translated, "and offers his thanks."

"You're welcome," I offered, still trying to figure out how something so big could move that fast.

"Delightful as it is to share such things with you, Gramawl, we really came to see your Mistress. Is she at home?"

He used a two-handed gesture, one hand inside the other, that I couldn't interpret, then placed his palm outwards, rotating it to point at the ground.

"We'll wait here then, while you check." She turned to me. "He thinks she might be sleeping, so we'll wait a moment."

He merged back into the dark and vanished, leaving me staring at the empty sack.

"Do they all eat pigeons?" I asked Blackbird.

"No, but Gramawl is a creature of open twilight and he's been living down here a long time. Bringing him something from the daylight world above is like offering him a taste of autumn sunshine."

"Can't he just leave?" I felt some sympathy for him. I had been stuck on the Underground for an hour once and that was long enough.

"He is tied to his Mistress and she won't leave, so he'll stay with her until she changes her mind."

"Is he bound to her, then?"

"In a way, yes."

"He doesn't need protection, if you ask me."