F Trope: Talking
animals
Noah Rhydderch
shook his head angrily, “No, I know what I heard!”
Machig Labdrön
pursed her lips, then took her lower lip between her thumb and finger. Finally
she said, “Ravens can’t really speak, you know.”
Noah rolled his
eyes. “I know that they aren’t supposed to speak English. I know they’re mimics
– but the bird wasn’t just mimicking me. It was trying to tell me something!”
Machig sighed.
“Look, Noah. I know we want our research to show that they’re smarter than
we’ve given them credit for...”
“Machig! Don’t
patronize me!” He shook his head and dropped down onto the lab stool. The raven
loft was attached to the lab building of the International Wolf Institute. They
were working under a grant from the National Science Foundation – but that did
little to make Noah forget his ancestral involvement with the birds. Machig had
the same connections – ancient Hebrews, the Welsh and Bhutanese cultures all
revered the raven. It was what had drawn them together in the first place
(though in a distressingly asexual way). He continued, “Don’t you think I’m
weirded out by what I think I heard?”
She dropped down
on the stool next to him and put her hand on his knee, though she didn’t look
at him. She said, “So tell me again – what did Katoohk say to you?” They’d
named raven #13 of their survey flock an Anglicized version of an Far Eastern
Russian creator god.
“See that was what
was weird, he didn’t actually say anything to me. I...” he paused, shot her a
look and said, “I dreamed it.”
She took her hand
away, rolling her eyes as she stood up. “Oh, great! I can just see the section
in our paper on ‘Dream Interpretation and Communication Skills of Corvus corax’!”
“I didn’t ask for
the dream! I’m just telling you about it!”
“You’re acting
like it’s significant to our studies!”
“I’m not the one
who said it was – Kahoohk said what he had to tell me was significant!”
Machig took a deep
breath, sat back down and faced Noah. She said, “All right. I’ll listen to your
dream – but don’t interpret for me. Just tell me what happened to the best of
your memory.” She set her ipik down and turned it on. “If what you say is
relevant in any way, I’ll think about it and let you know if I think it has any
significance.”
“You mean you get
last say? That’s not fair! This is my research, too!”
She snorted,
“That’s exactly what’s fair! It’s yours ‘too’! My name will be attached to it
and I don’t know if I want it attached to some fairy tale!”
He opened his
mouth. Shut it. Dropped back down on the stool and said, “All right. This is
what Kahoohk said: “A hero of Ireland, Cú Chulainn had a son whose name was
Connla, by Aífe. Connla has been long separated from his father and seeking him
to sit with him and do the things fathers and sons enjoy, comes to Ireland in
search of him. Cú Chulainn takes the son he does not recognize as an intruder
and kills him when he refuses to identify himself. Connla's last words to his
father as he dies are that they would have ‘carried the flag of Ulster to the
gates of Rome and beyond’, leaving Cú Chulainn both without an heir and grief-stricken
and with no understanding of what he did.”
Machig made a face and sagged in the chair. “I thought you were going to
say something significant.” She laughed. “You don’t even have a kid!” When she
looked at him again, his face was white. “What?”
“I suppose before we move any farther ahead or back in our relationship –
or non-relationship as the case may be, I have something I should tell you…”
Names: ♀ Bhutan; ♂ Hebrew, Welsh
Image: http://www.skyscrapernews.com/images/pics/6255CaernarfonCastle_pic1.jpg
No comments:
Post a Comment