I was completely fed up with it. Stormgale and the others in the harras constantly told me I should be happy and free, like them. For the life of me, I tried. I tried to fit in with my peers, but something seemed strangely wrong about that. What was wrong with freedom and belonging, and why could I not do it? Why could I not gallop in unison with the rest of the harras? Why could I not achieve freedom like my peers? I would always stumble behind the others as they galloped across the High Plains. I was less than the scape goat of a goat tribe. I was less than the loose wheel on one of those rancher’s infernal, horse-drawn wagons.
Stormgale seemed to be the only member in the harras to give me any form of good company. She met well, she did, but she suggested the same thing that the others had demanded, and I wondered if she or anyone in the harras actually understood what they were talking about. They seemed free, but…I could never be free with them, and I finally gave up trying to gallop with the harras. I would stand aside, in the dry fields, watching the members of the group run together, with their manes flowing in the wind.
Being with the harras was supposed to be leagues better than living in the Forest, down River. In the High Plains, I didn’t have to feel the hot, humid air of the enclosed forest and didn’t have to live like the silly Racoons that I had lived with before. So, I solemnly watched the Horses of my harras, before the Ranchers arrived with the Hounds and collected everyone.
The Ranchers and their Hounds didn’t like me. I was somehow an exception in the harras. The Ranchers would try to kick me, and the Hounds would chase me off, like I was some lame Ground Squirrel. I didn’t leave the harras behind though, and Stormgale would always protect me. The Ranchers tolerated me, as long as I was next to her and I would follow her into her cell. Every afternoon, and I really mean every afternoon, after the harras has had their free time, we would be sent back to the stables by the Ranchers and Hounds and we would stay in these stuffy rooms, all night and well into the next day.
There were others in the stable next to us, a herd of Sheep who were the oddest thing I had ever seen. They would be sheared. That’s right, sheared, and these fools seemed to be completely content with it. “You are all naked,” I would occasionally squawk at them.
One of them remarked “You know you know you shouldn’t be so judgmental. With our wool gone, all vanity has been taken from us. With the wool, we were puffed in our own self-admiration. Maybe you should be sheared and know what it means to be humble.” Yeah, right. Why would I want to be in their state? They grow such beautiful plumage, mostly white, often grey and occasionally black. They are beautiful creatures, until those Ranchers take out the shears every year. It was humiliating just to see them in the nude, with small pockets left from what once had made them complete, and yet they were somehow content with being incomplete. And when the ranch hands are at work with the Sheep, they consecutively pull each Sheep in awkward positions, while standing over them. The Sheep don’t fight it. They just let it happen, every single time. The sight of it dumbfounds me.
It wasn’t just the Sheep that disgusted me, but the entire ranch itself. It was time for me to get away from this ranch in the High Plains. I was fed up with trying to live up to Stormgale and the other Horses. I was fed up with being rejected by the Ranchers and chased down by the Hounds. I was fed up with having to watch the uncomfortable sight of the Sheep letting the Ranchers elope with their wool and dignity.
I confessed to Stormgale about my plans to leave, who became understandably upset with me. She thought me a part of the harras, even if I couldn’t keep up with it. “What would become of you if you leave, Ruffles,” she asked. “You hate it in the Forest.”
“I am not going back to the Forest. It’s too crowded there.”
“Then where are going? I hope, not to the Mountains.”
“Maybe, if I find my freedom, there, like the Cougars and Rams.”
“The Rams are irresponsible, Ruffles. Constantly, mountain climbing, risking their lives by rockslide or tumbling down the slopes of the Mountains. And the Cougars? They are not much better. Each of them live alone and seek only to harm others. Meet a Cougar, and it will tear you apart.”
“If I can’t go to the Mountains, than I will go where no other terrestrial creature has gone before, free from danger, free from expectations and free from exploitation.”
“The Sea is full of creatures much different than we are, Ruffles. You wouldn’t last a day there.”
“I wasn’t referring to the Sea.”
“And where else could you possibly go?”
“Silly, Stormgale. It hangs right over your head. You and the other Horses often speak of freedom, but can’t comprehend the presence of its existence.”
“You are a Horse, too, Ruffles. If we can’t comprehend freedom, what makes you so different?”
“That is what you don’t seem to understand. I am no more a Horse, than I am a Rabbit. I left the Forest to find freedom and belonging. I found this place. But it is no different than the Forest or the Mountains, or the River or even the Sea. I can no longer live in the shadows of others. I can’t take it, anymore. I will take to the Sky. I will leave the Ranch, the High Plains and even the Earth itself far behind me. Quite frankly, I am sick of this place.”
“Whatever you find up there, if anything at all, it won’t last. You are always welcome at the Ranch.”
“If it is freedom I find, I will embrace it, as long as it lasts. The Ranch has nothing for me, anymore.”
It was on that night, that I left. I left to the dismay of Stormgale. I left, unbeknownst to the other Horses, the Sheep or the Rancher. I fled into the High Plains, much to the delight of those dastardly Hounds. I stood still among the grass, with my yellow eyes staring intently into the starry Sky. Then, I spread my wings…Wings. Wings! I have wings! Since when did I have wings? Did I always have them? If not, where did they come from? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. I need to get off the ground. I flapped my wings for the first time, and yet, it was all too easy to catch the wind and lift off. It was if I have been flying my entire life, or that I was simply meant to do so.
To my awe, my wings carried me, higher and higher. To a new perspective, I ascended. The Earth seemed small and so far away from me now, and it was only getting farther as I rose. The High Plains seemed like nothing to me now, and the Ranch could no longer contain me. The River was but a line to me, having power only over its borders and currents. The Forest in its distance, was miniscule. The Mountains reached high and scraped the Sky, but even in their spectacular glory, they could not reach me. No place on Earth can touch me now, and I gladly flew up and up, away from the wretched place.
I found a comfortable altitude and began to fly forward. I looked down upon the lands of the Earth. My eyes glazed across the terrain, below. The High Plains seemed marvelous to me, now that I was seeing it from the Sky. The Ranch seemed like a tiny scab. The air felt cool and crisp over my black, feathery wings. The lone clouds, looked more like Sheep than the Sheep at the Ranch, white, fluffy and beautiful. It was cathartic.
Freely, I flew over the River and found myself over the Forest. Looking down into a lone meadow, I saw the Racoons. I could have sworn one of them was looking up at me. I continued to follow that blue line called the River, and flew over the Lowlands, where the Forest clashed with the Swamp, the Swamp clashed with the Marsh and the Marsh clashed with the Sea.
The air over the Lowlands felt muggy and was nothing like what I felt over the High Plains. My feathers were sticking together and made me feel uncomfortable, but it was nothing compared to the void of uncertainty I felt when I roamed among the Earth. I flew over the Sea, and the air became fierce. I flapped my wings constantly to maintain my trajectory, fighting with the Sky. In the distance I saw a storm cloud, of the likes I have never seen before. It reached far higher into the Sky than I could, and its face was the face of dark brooding and flashing rage. It was moving over the Sea, moving closer to the Earth.
I did not waver. I wasn’t about to let this storm take from me what I have taken so long trying to understand and achieve. I will stay aloft in the Sky, as long as I have wings to fly. I will only return by hitting the Earth, of which will be the cause of my death. I flew towards the storm, fighting the wind along the way, and as I got closer, the wind grew stronger and persistently demanded my defeat. The face of the storm seemed to grow bigger as I got closer, until I was staring into its colossal, angry void.
I found myself at the point of no return, as I was swallowed by the storm, and taken into a blind, wild ride. I had no control of my wings, as they were thrown around by the storm. I was blinded by the flashes of lighting and the black clouds of the storm. It was within that moment that I regretted my decision to fly into this unwelcoming wall of anger. The storm now had complete control over me, like chaos enforcing authority. Where was my freedom now? I would have flown in the other direction, I would still have control. I guess it doesn’t matter now.
Though I had lost all hope and blacked out in the storm, thanks to my stupid decision, I was spat out the other end. I saw daylight spiraling around me, followed by a wall of pale red, sand. I could barely move for a time, but I was somehow alive, with my face buried in the red, sand. Then I heard a loud screeching “aeiiiiyaaaa-ha-ha-ha” that seemed to below next to me. I lift my head and saw the feet of a Seagull standing next to me. Looking up, I saw the Seagull staring directly down at me, with curious eyes.
“What might you be,” the Seagull asked.
“What kind of question is that,” I asked.
“It’s a straight forward, question. Just answer it, yeah?”
I suppose it was a straight and basic question, though for the life of me, I had no answer to it. What was I really? I mean it had only realized I even had wings when I left the High Plains for the Sky. And now I was back on Earth, sore and being asked a question be a Seagull, which was the last thing I wanted. I had crashed landed on an island, isolated from the rest of the Earth, by the Sea.
“If I were to be frankly honest with you, I don’t know what I am,” I answered. “I’ve just been taken to be called by Ruffles.”
“Well. You took a nasty spill, Ruffles. What were you doing in that nasty storm?”
“I…I don’t know. I was being stupidly brave, I guess.”
“Well, by the looks of you, it may take you a while to recover.”
“That won’t do. I have to get back into the Sky…and stay there.”
“Aeiiiiiyaaaaaa-ha-ha-ha!”
I paused and looked at the Seagull with annoyance. “What was that about?”
“No bird cans stay air born forever, mate. Why do you think I am standing on this beach?”
“…So I’m a bird?”
“Of course you’re a bird. You really are stupid.”
By what authority did some obnoxious Seagull have on who was what? I don’t care what he had to say. I was getting back into the Sky, sore or not. I did not get this far just to chill with a Seagull on some island beach. “I’m out of here,” I said.
“Hey, just take it easy, my Ruffles friend.”
Needless to say, the Seagull’s advice was ignored. I wasn’t going to take it easy now. I have taken it easy for far too long in my life and I wasn’t going to let some storm defeat me. I took flight once more and left that lonely island behind. I flew high enough to see the coastlands that I had found before encountering the storm.
The journey back to the mainland was an arduous one. It wasn’t like before, as I flew through the Sky without restraint. I was sore from feather to bone, thanks to that trip through the storm. I did my best to stay aloft, fighting the fatigue in my wings. I flew, erratically, as I struggled to retain a straight trajectory. The thwomping strain in my wings and the rest of my body, demanded rest, but if I were to rest, I would be claimed by a life of indifference. I can not let that happen….I just can’t. The Earth will not keep me. The Sea will not take me. The Sky will not defeat me.
I was flying slower by the time I reached the coast. The strain was overbearing, but I kept to the Sky. By this time, I had a complicated relationship with the Sky. It was supposed to hold my liberation, but it was trying to repel me. I was getting closer to defeat, but I did not allow myself to stop. I demand to be free. I demand it, and I will not stop flying until the Sky accepts me.
Though I didn’t ask for it, I was carried away by an air current. Cool, soft air caressed me once more, as my wings were carried by the current and I was offered some form of rest. Like a road in the Sky, the current led me along a winding path until I was met with the Lake City. It was one of the Cities of the Earth. I had heard of these places by the Ranchers of the High Plains. They are places filled with creatures, much like the Ranchers, but different in behavior. They are crowded places, much like the Forest, but to a much higher magnitude. The current let me off over the Lake City. At this point, my body could resist the strain no longer. I glided towards the Lake City to find a roost to rest on.
I found myself on some sort of rope being hung up by wooden posts, but these ropes were different. They were black and felt smooth to my curling feet. I observed the corridors of the Lake City, and the smooth, hard roads that occupy them. The walls of these corridors occupied massive structures that seemed to be made from the Earth, and some of these structures even reached high enough to touch the Sky. The Rancher-like creatures crowded each other on the perimeters of the roads, while strange, hard-shelled creatures glided along the roads themselves, following some sort of orderly pattern, as colored lines and lights guided their way.
I was not left alone on my black, roped roost for long, as other birds began to accompany me, much to my dismay. One bird looked straight at me with its yellow, eyes of intent and I stared back…I seemed to be staring back at myself. The bird looked just like me, from black feathers with purple gloss, to those unblinking, yellow eyes, and slender body. He wasn’t just the only one. There were others with him, just like him and just like myself. It seemed so eerie to me.
“Hey, ah, let’s hit the supermarket,” the bird said to me, which almost sounded like a command.
“Excuse me,” I asked.
“The supermarket,” the bird said. “It’s lunch hour for the Busybodies. Come on, let’s go, before the Pigeons get their first!”
It didn’t take me enough time to respond when my multiple doppelgangers flew away in unison towards a wide, low-laying structure and the black and grey, grassless field that lay in front of it. Deciding it would be in my best interest, I followed the flock. The flock landed on the edges of the structure and the tall, shelled posts that stand in a pattern across the stony, grassless field.
The Rancher-like creatures were moving in and out of the building, pushing strange, framed containers that carried food and other strange objects. Some of these creatures even pushed chains of those strange, framed containers in front of them, with what seemed to me like great feats of strength. The Rancher-like creatures loaded their items from these containers into the inside of those hard-shelled creatures, like they were Mules with Possum pouches.
My doppelgangers intently watched the Rancher-like creatures, sitting and waiting for something, something that I would assume to be interesting. Then one of the doppelgangers, stances her body for flight and floated towards food left aside by the Rancher-like creatures. Taking notice, the other doppelgangers closed in on the same food. Their behavior bothered me to no end, so I had to follow them and ask why they are crowding a piece of stinky meat.
“Hey back off,” one of the doppelgangers demanded, that is the one who addressed me on the rope. “What you think you’re doing, huh?! I get first dibs!”
“No, hold on, Glaze,” another male doppelganger responded. “What gives you the right to eat it?”
“Well because I am the biggest Grackle here, obviously!”
“You think so?!” The opposing male Grackle moved closer to Glaze, stood tall and pointed its beak straight towards the Sky.
Glaze took on the challenge, taking the same pose, spreading out his wings and squawking furiously. The two male Grackles scuffled, as the other Grackles, male and female took the opportunity to feed on the wrapped meat, festering against the hard ground. I took one long sight at these birds and realized. I am one of them. I am a Grackle…Was I really supposed to act like…this? How could I possibly be comfortable living like this? I nodded my head and kept my head down in shame. It was a shame of my kind and of myself.
I flew to the top of one of the shelled poles to roost and looked up into the Sky…A storm was rolling in. Just perfect. I wasn’t about to fly into another storm. I learned my lesson after the first one. I guess I am going to have to put up with these morons a little longer…I’ll have to learn more about them and this City, while I’m here. I am a Grackle, after all. How unfortunate for me to be among their kind. It devastates me. The Sky truly has defeated me, if I was led here to see…this spectacle. Maybe this is what I am supposed to be. I guess there is no use in fighting it.
ns 18.68.41.141da2
