CHAPTER FOUR           Story Table of Contents          Finding Martin Game

There once was a boy who had no words. No one knew whence he came for he could not say. But the people of the village gave him food and clothing, and in return he carried their water buckets high up the mountain to fill them with the cold clean water of the mountain spring.

All day he filled buckets and brought them back down to people of the village. But each day when the sun grew low in the sky, the boy would go back up the mountain to sit upon a flat rock. Next to a pool where the mountain waters rested before continuing on their way downstream, the boy could be seen sitting quietly and staring at the fish whose colors gleamed like jewels in the fire of the setting sun.

Now some will say that the patterns of the fish in this mountain pool have always been strangely beautiful. Others will say the fish were changed by a rock that fell from the sky and sank to the bottom of the pool. And still others will tell you that the fish had been touched by the fire spirit of the mountain, which sometimes bubbles up from below and heats the water with puffs of steam.

But the boy who watched the fish understood none of these stories. He watched the fish and studied the tiny flaps on their mouths that looked so much like mustaches. Each evening he saw fish entering the pool and fish leaving the pool. But always the fish who chose to remain were the ones with the most spectacular colors and most intricate patterns. These are the fish who lived their lives in the mountain pool, there with the boy who watched them in silence as the sun set into darkness and cold stars filled the night.

One day the village received a visit from an important man who had traveled from afar. This man asked many questions, and as the villagers spoke he nodded and made marks upon parchment with brush and ink. When he asked to see the jeweled fish of the mountain, the villagers sent the boy with no words to lead him up the mountain.

At first the important man became puzzled when he looked at the boy, who seemed to possess some similarity of face to a great poet and philosopher that he had once met in the imperial city. The man became excited as he began to make plans to use the boy to further his own position. A reward perhaps? Could he pass the child off as a long lost relative of the great philosopher, perhaps an infant who had wandered from home and grew up as a wildling?

But when the man and the boy reached the mountain pool and the man saw the fish, his excitement turned into awe. It seemed that the impossible rumors were indeed true -- The patterns on these fish were in the form of letters and words, characters that matched the brushstrokes on his parchment! And then the man looked back at the boy’s face, and he tried to shake from his mind a disturbing idea. What if the fish were speaking with words that had been trapped inside of the boy? No, no, an absurd idea, the man told himself.

The man left hurriedly, but before the next full moon he returned with servants and a large tar-coated basket to take the fish down from the mountain. They also took the boy, although he ran from them and tried to hide. These strange and beautiful fish would make fine gifts to the emperor, the important man thought.

But before reaching the imperial city they were attacked by foreigners. The man was killed and his servants ran away. The boy and the fish were put aboard a black ship and taken to a far-away land, where a powerful sorceress imprisoned them in a cave.

Inside the cave, a giant cauldron was hung by black chains above a bubbling mudpot. The basket containing the fish was laid upon on the ground next to cages filled with small animals. The boy was put to work stirring the cauldron with a long stick. Inside the cauldron bubbled a magical potion that contained the power of all the words that had ever been and all the languages ever known.

That night the sorceress returned to the cave and the animals in their cages became agitated. They called out to the boy, saying "Save us, save us!" The boy saw their fear but he did not understand the words that they were saying to him.

The sorceress took a hawk from its cage. Holding its feet in her hand, she spoke an incantation and plunged the hawk into the boiling cauldron. The bird let forth a scream as it died, and the hand of the sorceress contorted painfully in the hissing liquid. But her face was filled with ecstasy as the knowledge of all words and all languages passed into her.

But the spirit of the sorceress was full of evil ambitions and wicked plans, and so there was not enough room inside her to keep what she had taken from the cauldron. Her face grew angry as the words escaped her memory and the knowledge of the languages was forgotten. Lost again! She needed more time, more animals. The potion was not strong enough yet! Then the sorceress transformed herself into the shape of a hawk, let forth a course birdlike cry, and flew from the cave.

The boy was afraid and didn’t know what to do. If he freed the animals, the sorceress would surely put him into the pot instead\! And away from the glow of the heated cauldron, the cave was so dark that he would not be able to find the way out.

But he opened the cages anyway, and the animals scurried off into the darkness. Then the boy did the only thing he knew how to do. He sat down beside the basket of fish and watched them quietly.

After a time the cave floor beneath him began to tremble. The ground began to shake vigorously and a crack broke open in the rock, revealing a torrent of rushing water that was a great underground stream. The boy poured the fish into the stream and dropped the basket, hoping to jump into the basket as it fell and thereby make his escape.

At that moment the sorceress appeared screaming in fury, just in time to see the ground beneath the cauldron give way. The cauldron tipped over, and drops of liquid spilled onto the boy and onto the two tiny fish as they fell.

The sorceress extended her hand and a cold spell of vengeance flew from her fingers. But before the spell could strike the boy’s chest, she saw the boy using the power of the cauldron to transform his body into sparks of fire. The boy had disappeared! The sparks flew into the mouths of the two tiny fish as they fell into the roaring stream, and the spirit of the boy became joined with the fish.

Then the sorceress transformed herself into an otter and she jumped into the stream, swimming and chasing after the fish. She chased them until the stream poured into the sea, and she chased them across the sea throughout the night. As the sun rose the next morning, the two fish came to an island beach of white sand. The fish transformed themselves into rabbits and sprinted across the sand into the tall grass beyond.

The sorceress then turned herself into a greyhound to chase them. But the rabbits soon reached a large lake, and in the center of the lake was a volcano. The rabbits transformed themselves into swallows and flew across the lake towards the peak of the volcano. The sorceress then took the form of a hawk and followed in swift pursuit.

The trees surrounding the lake bent in welcome to the swallows, waving exotic purple flowers and lush green fronds. So the swallows changed back into tiny jewel-colored fish and began to fall down towards the lake. As they fell, they spoke to the volcano in the language of fire. "Rano," said the fish. "Ani," said the other fish. "Aku he gaukauha ki te kaiga."

The sorceress, still in the form of a hawk, began a steep dive to intercept the fish before they reached the lake. But the volcano rumbled and shook, and a fiery blast lashed out to destroy the sorceress, burning her completely and leaving nothing but smoke and ash to be scattered by the wind.

The fish remained in this lake, taking nourishment from the purple flowers and bringing prosperity and safety to the people who lived under the shadow of the volcano. In the years to come there would be many generations of these fish, sometimes leaving to wander through distant lands, but always returning home to the lake to share their tales of adventure with the other fish. Tiny fish with beautiful patterns of white and red and blue and yellow and black, with tiny mustaches, sharing the spirit of a little boy and the power of all words and all languages ever known.

The fish in the tank, watching Tim's lips move, seemed fascinated.  Apparently this story was their favorite, and they tend to get grouchy unless someone takes the time to read it to them now and then.

The strands of beads hanging from the ceiling shimmered slightly, undulating ripples of blue and green.  They appeared insubstantial, almost as if they were made out of holographic light patterns rather than actual beads.  Timothy walked through the ripples and entered the dining room.

Chapter Five          Story Table of Contents          Finding Martin Game