George the Orphan Crow and the Creatures of Blossom Valley

by Helen Fox

  Conti hopped quietly onto the tier above his and tapped Bond the red squirrel on his back.

  “Hear, hear!” he whispered. “George isn’t in a coma. He was, but he’s awake now and recovering. My buddy isn’t going to die. Pass it on to the crows and tell them to keep it to themselves and, if you want to know what a coma is, it’s when we fall into a very deep sleep and can’t wake up. Tawny Owl explained it to me. I was at his bedside, determined to tell him the dream I had. He was in it, and I reckon that did it. My dream pulled him out of his coma. Tawny Owl was very happy that I did.”

  After a short and dismal silence, Plato coughed to clear his throat and spoke.

  “Ladybird Rosa, You’ve been defending your daughter for some few minutes now. You described scenes that took place on Devil’s Gorge in detail, as if you were there. But you weren’t, were you, ladybird Rosa? We have witnesses who on that morning saw you inside the valley, moving secretively about and, to speak more plainly, lurking around the butterflies’ pen.”

  “I was on the gorge, not inside the valley,” Rosa shrieked.

  “Liar, Liar!” Glo shouted. “How come we didn’t see you up there? Liar! You’re not only poisonous and vile, you’re sick in the head.” She filled her cheeks with air, let it out with a loud whistling sound and flew at Rosa.

  “Bumblebee Gloria, return to you seat please,” Plato ordered. “We do not allow violent behaviour during a trial. Solve your differences outside the hall.”

  There was a short pause before Plato spoke again.

  “Will Heather’s sister come to the front, please?”

  A pretty ladybird, her wings shell a glossy red, lowered her head in a polite bow. “I’m Daisy,” she said, “and behind me is my younger sister Po...”

  “Be careful Daisy, my treasure,” Rosa blurted out in a softened voice. “Don’t let the old owl lead you on. You must protect your sister, our Heather.”

  The young ladybird looked right into Plato’s eyes, her voice steady and clear now and repeated. “I’m Daisy, and behind me is my younger sister, Poppy, and we are not Rosa’s daughters. Heather is, and she did it. She and her mother plotted the whole thing. Heather had tried the hypnotic power of the sleeping weed on some meadow ladybirds. It had worked, she told us. The meadow ladybirds, who she called common and worthless, had gone over the edge of the gorge and perished in the brambles. She was jealous of the butterflies’ beauty and loathed Thelma for the way she fawned over them. She did some dreadful things to the butterflies. We begged her to stop and she threatened to kill us, didn’t she, Poppy?”

  Poppy couldn’t utter a word.

  “Poppy?” her sister demanded.

  “She did,” Poppy stammered. “We’re sorry we couldn’t stop her...” The young ladybird choked on her tears and sat down.

  “You ungrateful creatures,” Rosa said, breaking into fake hysterics. “After all I’ve done for you, is this how you repay me?” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed on and on.

  “Yes it is,” Daisy answered firmly. “You told us we were strays and a merciful being that you were you’d take care of us. Instead, all you gave us was fear and punishment.” Then Daisy broke down with emotion.

  Sadness gripped the silent Music Hall. Only Conti’s loud sniffles and hiccups could be heard. Plato let out a long sigh and, standing up, spoke in a sombre voice. “Fellow creatures, are you ready to give your judgement?”

  “Yes we are,” they shouted.

  “Only the head of each family will answer my question. Do you judge the ladybirds Daisy and Poppy to be innocent or guilty?”

  “Innocent!” shouted the family heads at the top of their voices.

  “Do you judge Ladybird Heather to be innocent or guilty?”

  “Guilty!”

  The entire hall rocked as all the creatures stood up yelling angrily, “Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!”

  “Thank you,” Plato called. “Please seat down.” Then he fixed his gaze upon Heather, searching for signs of remorse, but what he saw in her eyes was malice, darkness and ill will that seemed to be coming from deep inside her.

  “Ladybird Heather,” he said, “you have been found guilty of a dreadful deed, and for this reason you are banished from Blossom Valley. You’ll be taken far beyond the hills and plains, so far that you’ll never find your way back. Guards, take her away.”

  “Liars, liars...!” Rosa raved. “What’s banishment, huh? You’re going to kill her. Say it clearly. Murderers! You’ll kill my beautiful daughter, and you”- her searing eyes stopped at Thelma - “you, wretched spider, listen to my words cause you’ll hear them only once. I vow revenge on you and your precious butterflies.” Foam flecked the corners of her mouth and her eyes blazed with such raging hatred that Thelma shrank back, shivering.

  While Heather was shrieking, pushing and kicking to wrench herself free from the guards, Rosa stormed out of the hall. She filled her lungs with gulps of fresh air then hid under a nearby cluster of bluebells.

  Fourteen

  When the Music Hall had emptied, and all the talk and whispers had died away, Rosa came out of hiding. She checked the trees, bushes and the sky above for she feared the crows might avenge George and all the crows she’d called evil. She squirmed through a gap in the ivy and into the undergrowth outside the northern wall. She took a few long breaths and let herself sail in the gentle wind until she reached the meadow. There, she rested on the blossoms of a wild cherry tree and looked around.

  A cluster of meadow ladybirds flew onto the branch next to her and one spoke. “You are a stranger in these parts, aren’t you? What meadow have you come from?”

  “Five spot ladybirds don’t live in meadows,” Rosa snapped and turned round so they could see her vivid black spots. “We’re rare. There are very few of us about.”

  The words five spot and rare rang a bell with the old ladybird who’d been peacefully napping on a meadow orchid. She jerked awake and flew over. She had questions that needed answers.

  “Oi, I remember you! So, why are you lying? Your arrogance and gloating has given you away. You took some of our girls, didn’t you? Where are they?”

  “I didn’t take them. They begged me to let them come with me to Blossom Valley and I did. They were awed by the beauty of the place and the butterflies, especially the prince and princess. Aren’t they back?” she asked with fake concern in her voice.

  “No, they never returned.”

  “And is this my fault? They could have drifted elsewhere unless...”

  “What do you mean unless?” the old ladybird demanded.

  “The spider, who is the head of the creatures there, has a thing against ladybirds. So she probably killed them. I can’t think of anything else.”

  “What were they doing in the air if they’d been killed then? cause our sparrow friend and permanent resident here told us he saw ladybirds flying towards the northern rocks, and sparrows’ eyes miss nothing that goes on in the sky. Did you take them there?” The old ladybird glared at her suspiciously.

  “No dear,” Rosa said mockingly. “I didn’t. They wanted to see Blossom Valley, not Devil’s Gorge.”

  “Hold it, hold it right there, for I’m smelling something very suspicious here. How come you know that Devil’s Gorge is on the northern rocks if you’ve never been there?”

  Anger boiled inside Rosa for she’d never been cornered like this before, and anger loosened her tongue. “You’re more stupid than you look,” she snorted. “But I shouldn’t expect any better from a common empty-headed meadow ladybird. The answer to your question is plain. Now watch my lips as the words will be coming out one by one. I have heard the big birds talk about the Devil’s Gorge and Blossom Valley, the place where I live, has hundreds of them, happy, now?”

  Straight away Rosa was mad at herself and that was rare for she realiz
ed she’d gone too far, replying to the old ladybird with such very insulting words. Meadow ladybirds could come in useful. They might even be the answer to her problem. This was the reason she was here. Stupid and worthless they were, but they had strong jaws that could snap a delicate butterfly’s neck with little effort.

  “I didn’t mean to be rude,” she apologised hastily. “I’m very sorry if I have offended you. I can’t think straight. They’ve killed my daughters.” She pretended she was choking with emotion. “They killed my three angels.”

  The young ladybirds, interested in any piece of news or gossip that came from beyond the meadow, gathered around her.

  “Who killed your daughters? Why?”

  “It’s a long story. It’s best that I start from the beginning,” she said with a sigh.

  “We lived in the Abbey gardens and were very happy there, until they opened the place to the humans. Then I kept losing my young ones. Children took them away in glass jars and it was happening all the time. It left me heartbroken. I’d heard of Blossom Valley. I took my three daughters and moved there, hoping for a better life. But the damn spider, the head of all the creatures there, made our life hell. She wouldn’t let my daughters mix with her butterflies. As I said, the spider has a thing against us ladybirds. My daughters were blamed and punished for any trivial misdoing, even if it were an accident. A small accident took place the other day. The butterflies weren’t hurt. Only a crow who happened to be close by got in a bit of trouble and slightly injured himself. My daughters got the blame for it, and the spider banished them from Blossom Valley. But she can’t fool me. She snatched the opportunity to get rid of them and kill them.” Rosa burst out in loud sobs. “I want to see justice done.”

  The old ladybird wasn’t touched by Rosa’s sobbing story.

  “So,” she said, “I suppose you want to see the spider punished, dead perhaps?”

  “No, I want her precious butterflies dead. The spider must live to grieve and suffer for their loss, like I’ll be doing for my daughters for the rest of my living days. I know of a good and tested way to get rid of them but I can’t do it alone.”

  “So you want us to help you kill the butterflies who have never done you wrong? That’s ghastly, cruel and appalling. How dare you ask such a thing from us? Go away and never...”

  Just then, the leaves and dry twigs on the ground rustled and a husky voice spoke. “Excuse us for barging in on you like this, ladies, we are...”

  “I know who you are,” Rosa snapped. “ A gang of bedraggled grasshoppers on the run.”

  “Bedraggled we might be, for we’ve travelled far, but I can assure you, lady, we’re not on the run.”

  The ladybirds glared at Rosa then at the grasshopper and flew away in disgust.

  The grasshopper introduced himself. “I’m Gaspar, the leader of this team.”

  His gang stayed well back, half-smiles on their faces.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing the sad story you told the ladybirds and I thought I might be able to help.”

  Rosa took a few paces closer and gave Gaspar a long stare. His face was scarred in more than one place and his eyes were swollen, as if he’d been struck by a nasty blow.

  “So,” Gaspar continued, “you believe your daughters were unfairly punished?”

  “I believe, if the truth be known, that my daughters are dead,” Rosa answered. “The spider made sure of that and I want to pay her back.”

  “Hmmm...It is revenge you’re after, and who can blame you?” He paced up and down, stroking his forehead.

  “Well, lady,” he said with a sly grin, “you might be in luck cause my brain has just come up with a brilliant idea. Shall I call you lady, or you have a name?”

  “It’s Rosa,” she said drily then fell silent, pondering. Grasshoppers were the last creatures she would turn to for help at the best of times. On the other hand, they were strong, ruthless and cunning. She had nothing to lose by listening to his so-called brilliant idea. She cleared her throat and asked, “What’s this brilliant idea of yours? And anyway what means could a grasshopper have...”

  “Ha!” Gaspar interrupted. Holding his head up, he paced up and down as if he were somebody of great importance. “I’ll tell you what means I have Rosa. I’m a well-known and highly respected creature. You don’t know me cause you’re a mere newcomer to these parts. I have many connections, friends, if you know what I mean. I have great power over them and can persuade them to go along with any cleverly thought-out idea of mine.”

  “I don’t want to listen to fancy talk and big ideas, for they count for nothing,” Rosa said in an ice-cold voice. “I want facts. Who are these friends of yours then? Tell me.”

  “It’s not for you to worry your pretty little head over,” he replied. “I can’t tell you much at this stage. I do things properly, me. I think before I plan and never make plans before I investigate. But I can tell you this much. My friends, or mates as I call them, are powerful, ferocious and stubborn creatures capable of causing great damage. Now you tell me about Blossom Valley. What is it like?”

  “Well,” she began, “it’s a vast place and very beautiful but everyone there is very hostile. There’s Thelma, a ghastly enormous spider who’s the boss of pretty much everything and everybody. The butterflies, and I admit they’re very beautiful, especially the prince and his princess. There’s a wrinkly old frog who croaks non- stop and drives you crazy. Then the ant colonies, thousands of these horrible midgets that give me the creeps.”

  At the mention of the word ants a spark flickered across Gaspar’s eyes. He turned and winked at his gang.

  “And the birds...” Rosa paused, as she noticed Gaspar’s slit eyes widen with apprehension. She realised she’d slipped up. Birds were the grasshoppers’ dreaded enemy.

  “Mind you,” she continued, trying to patch up her mistake, “you won’t find a single bird inside the valley, and come to think about it, I never saw a bird’s nest in all the time I’ve lived there. That’s all really.”

  “I see,” Gaspar said with a groan, giving Rosa a sidelong glare so intense that it sent a shiver through her body.

  “I don’t like to be glared at in that way, grasshopper,” she hissed. “What’s on your mind? Be straight with me. I don’t have to accept help from any odd creature who comes along. So don’t overstretch yourself to impress me with stories about your connections and the power you have over them. Who do you think you are? You’re only a grasshopper, for pity’s sake.”

  The grasshopper felt his anger welling up inside him, and had to struggle to hold it down. “As I said, Ladybird Rosa,” he said in a sour voice, “there’s a lot of thinking and planning to be done before I meet with my friends and put my thoughts across to them. I don’t want to brag but I can almost guarantee they’ll accept my proposal, as it’ll be to their advantage as well. I can even go as far as say that Blossom Valley could easily be taken over, the spider got rid of, and then, my dear lady, the prince, the princess and the rest of them will be left totally unprotected and at anyone’s mercy. So be a good girl and keep our conversation to yourself for if as much as a whisper gets out, I lose nothing while you, you’ll see your chance for revenge crumble to nothing. Have I made myself, clear? I may have news in a few days, so stick around and I’ll make sure to find you.”

  Without further word, the grasshopper turned his back on her and motioned to his gang to follow.

  “Where are we heading to, boss?” one of his men asked. “Cause there’s a few things we want to have out with you and there’s no better time than now that they’re fresh in our heads.”

  Gaspar flung both hands up. “Not now, not now, fellas. My head is spinning. I need a bit of time to sort my mind out. There will be plenty of time to talk after I’ve paid a visit to Blossom Valley and seen the spider.”

  The gang gasped. “You’r
e crazy, boss,” they said.

  “I know what I’m doing, fellas,” Gaspar said. “I need to see things for myself. You can’t trust anyone these days. I’ll meet you before sundown in the reeds on the west bank of Penny Creek.”

  Fifteen

  Blossom Valley was fervently preparing for the celebration, as any day now the cuckoo would be flying over with his spring message.

  The stage where the dancing, singing and acting would be performed was finished. But the repairs on the stands had fallen behind as senior rabbit carpenters were in hospital with injuries and broken legs.

  Luckily, the jack rabbits, craftsmen in carpentry, offered a helping hand and in no time the stands were restored. Soon afterwards a buzz of activity took over as everyone did their bit to get Blossom Valley spick and span for the big day.

  The hedgehogs were rolling along the stage and the stands, their spikes working hard on the wooden planks until they came out smooth and shiny.

  The girl ants were making daisy chains, one for every creature to wear round their neck and some spares for visitors who might drop in.

  Teams of squirrels and rabbits, trundling the wooden wheelbarrows uphill and downhill, chattering away, whistling and singing, were clearing paths, grass and flower beds of dead leaves, twigs and flower petals. They stored the twigs on the far northern hill, for as they did every spring, the herons would be picking those twigs up for their nest building.

  Conti, a gourd swinging from each hand, tore to and fro to fetch water from the pond to water the plants that were wilting under the hot sun. The gourds were the large hollow fruit of a trailing plant that grew wild inside the valley. When their hard skin dried, the squirrels would chisel them into pails. Gourds were scattered across the grounds to provide water for the creatures, or a bath for the smaller birds, and it was Conti’s responsibility to keep them full at all times.

  The butterflies and bumblebees were making streamers with flowers of different, dazzling colours to decorate the stage and stands.