neetha Napew - The Time Of The Transferance

“Bruised yourself pretty good?”

“Not at all. You see, the tether was around my neck and the door was taller than I was. So I was trapped against it, hanging from my neck. I tried to right myself by flapping my wings but they were pinned between my back and the door. I hung there against it slowly strangling until a mare who was a friend of my dame happened to come strolling by. She bit the tether in half, but by that time I had blacked out. That memory has remained with me always. Now if I try to fly all the fear and pain comes rushing back in on me and I feel as though I am strangling. You see, there is no great mystery about it. Just as there is nothing I can do about it.”

Jon-Tom nodded. “Perfectly understandable.”

Teyva eyed him in surprise. “It is?”

“Certainly. You can’t fly if you’re grounded by a childhood terror. Many people know the cause of their irrational fears. They simply have no idea how to overcome them. The first thing you have to realize is that your fear is irrational. That all took place a long time ago, when you were barely an infant. You have to convince yourself there’s nothing wrong with your mind, just as you know there’s nothing wrong with your wings, your legs or any other part of your body.” He took a couple of steps forward until he was practically eyeball to eyeball with the stallion.

“You can overcome your fear, Teyva. All you have to do is talk yourself out of it. There’s no tether around your neck except the one in your memory. You can’t choke on a memory. Doesn’t the fact that you’re about to be gutted and spitted and served up as someone’s dinner make you want to get out of here?”

“I have no more interest in becoming a premature meal than you do, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” Again he flapped his great wings. The backblast of air from those powerful limbs blew dust in Jon-Tom’s fact. Teyva rose off the ground an inch, two inches, three, half a foot this time before dropping back to earth. He was sweating and beginning to froth at the mouth.

“I just can’t do it,” he said tightly. “I can feel the,tether around my neck. I can feel it tightening and constricting, cutting off my breath. If I got ten feet up I’d black out from lack of air and come crashing down. I know it.” He glared at Jon-Tom. “You don’t know what it’s like, that feeling. You can’t imagine it. So don’t try to tell me that you do.”

“I won’t.” Jon-Tom wanted to be patient, to be gentle. Unfortunately, the light from the fire pit was beginning to glow brightly. There was no time for patience or gentleness. He had to push.

“Let’s try something.”

“They’ve gone an’ got themselves caught, the stupid twits.” Mudge was squatting in the middle of the big outrigger he and Weegee had spirited away from the boat landing, looking back toward the village. Two wolves had been guarding the trim little vessels, but some commotion among the huts had providentially drawn their attention. Now Mudge knew what the cause of the commotion had been, and providence hadn’t been involved.

“They ought to ‘ave been ‘ere by now.”

“Give them another few minutes.”

He turned to stare at her in the darkness. “No. I know that Jon-Tom, I do. The poor bald-bodied ape don’t ‘ave the brains of a worm. Got ‘imself caught ‘e did. Well, we did our best. I tried to warn Mm, but no, ‘e ‘ad to go an’ play the noble man, ‘e did. It were ‘is choice, it were, an’ it don’t ‘ave nothin’ to do with us. We’ve a life of our own to live. Tis time to go.” He hopped out of the boat and leaned his shoulder against the side preparatory to pushing it off the low sandbar where they’d beached the hull.

Weegee leaned out and rubbed her nose against his to get his attention. “We can’t just let them die like that, Mudge.”

“We didn’t make the choice on ‘ow they’re goin’ to die, luv. They did that themselves. Wot about me and you then, eh?” He stood straight and kissed her, leaning over the gunwale to do so. Then he ran a finger over her whiskers. “I never met no one like you, lass. Never expected to. Never planned on settlin’ down because I never thought I’d ‘ave a reason to. Now I’ve got me a reason an’ I ain’t blowin’ it because some nitwit of a ‘uman from another world ‘asn’t got the sense to know when to mind ‘is own business. Jon-Tom’s been pullin’ idiotic stunts like this ever since I’ve known ‘im, which is as long as ‘e’s been in our world. I knew ‘e’d pull one too many one day and that would be the end o’ an interestin’ friendship. Today’s that day. ‘E’s made the choice. There’s no one else at risk in this. This time the fate o’ the world don’t ‘ang in the balance. Tis just Jon-Tom, an’ fate’s decided ‘is end ‘as come.”

“Someone once told me that fate never decided anything.”

“Wot fool told you that?”

She leaned close. “You did, Mudge.”

He pulled away from her but he couldn’t get away from her eyes. “Damn all females to ‘ell anyway. You ‘ear me, Weegee? I say damn you!”

“I heard you.” She slipped over the side into the water. “We’ll haVe a nice long mutual cursing session later. Right now we’re wasting time.”

Together they swam for the village, easily outracing the startled fish that crossed their path.

Jon-Tom’s halting attempts at equine psychoanalysis were going nowhere fast when he was interrupted by the sound of a gate opening at the far end of the corral. At first he thought the cooks had come for them, but the opening was only to permit the injection of some new ingredients to the stew. These ingredients were unceremoniously tossed inside. The gate was slammed behind them.

He didn’t wave. “Hello, Mudge. Hi, Weegee.”

Teyva pawed the earth. “More of your friends? You certainly do have a number of foolish acquaintances, man.”

Mudge was brushing himself off. The expression on his face ought to have been sharp enough to cut through the pen all by itself. “You don’t know the ‘alf o’ it, four-legs. I should’ve brought me longbow but the water would’ve ruined it. Should’ve brought it anyway an’ taken the chance. Too bleedin’ late now.” He ran back to the gate and bestowed some choice epithets on his captors.

“Very smart this bunch.” Cautious was cleaning his tail. “You got to be real quick or they drop down on you from trees.”

“I’ll keep that useful advice right where it’ll do the most good,” the otter growled. “Only trouble is ‘tis about three minutes shy o’ bein’ of any use. I didn’t think to keep an eye on the trees. Didn’t see no monkeys livin’ ‘ere.” He stared straight at Jon-Tom. “ ‘Course they got one now.”

Weegee walked slowly up to Jon-Tom. “This is my fault. Mudge didn’t want to come. He was probably right, but I insisted.”

“Wot do you mean I didn’t want to come? Are you sayin’ I ‘ad thoughts o’ abandonin’ me good mate ‘ere to the cookpot without at least tryin’ to save “im?”

Weegee turned on her paramour, stared at him for a moment, then looked quietly back up at Jon-Tom. “Everything you told me about him is true.” She strolled over to whisper something to Cautious. Meanwhile Jon-Tom, vaguely aware that he might be missing something, walked over to rejoin his brave friend.

“I appreciate the effort, Mudge. I’m just sorry you didn’t succeed.” He nodded toward the gate. “You bought us some time, anyway. They’re going to have to enlarge the firepit again.” Through the fence posts they could observe the delighted villagers doing just that.

“Why don’t they just cook us one at a time?” the otter muttered.

“That’s what I do not understand,” said Teyva.