George the Orphan Crow and the Creatures of Blossom Valley

by Helen Fox

  The crows promised they’d fly over places where funfairs were held and salvage those balloons that broke free from children’s grasps.

  Thelma was on her way to the hospital to cheer the sick and injured with the news that they’d soon be out to celebrate the arrival of spring. She was shielding her eyes from the harsh sunlight when she jolted to a halt. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the intruder. “What on earth are you doing, here?” she yelled. “This is private land and you’re trespassing. Leave at once.”

  The grasshopper stooped, snapped the stem of a white daisy and waved it in the air. “I’ve come in peace. There’s no need to be annoyed,” he said, looking around. The sky was empty of birds but on the ground, a number of red squirrels had darted onto the bushes around him, all eyes fixed on him.

  “I’m Gaspar,” the grasshopper said with a grin, “head of a powerful and respectable family of grasshoppers. But before I state the reason for my visit, I need to put something straight and make it clear to you that I have as much right to be on this land as you have, cause the land belongs to us all and neither you nor any other creature, whether big or small, weak or powerful, can claim it as theirs. So I am not trespassing.”

  Holding her head right up, Thelma replied to his remark with defiance and pride in her voice. “This land, which the trees and ivy seclude from the outside world, has belonged to our ancestors for centuries and has been passed down to our generations. I should know better than you, grasshopper. So yes, this land is ours.”

  Gaspar was taken aback by Thelma’s grand manner but only for a short second. He’d stashed some wicked lies in his head, certain that one of them would shackle the old spider’s arrogance.

  “That’s a great shame, lady,” he said with a devious grin, “cause my friends, the wood flies, are looking for a place to move in and Blossom Valley seems like a...”

  “Stop!” Thelma cried out. “I want to hear nothing from you, for as far as time goes back, your kind, have been liars, bullies and deceivers.”

  Gaspar took a step closer to Thelma. His bloodshot eyes stared directly at hers and his hot breath almost touched her face. Thelma drew back in disgust.

  “You’ve spoken badly of us, lady,” he said angrily, “and you, being as clever as you make out, should know that all creatures are different and none of us are perfect, but we’re not the names you’ve just called us. You have insulted the grasshoppers’ world, and neither me nor my people will take kindly to it.”

  Thelma ignored his angry talk and said scornfully, “So, grasshopper, the wood flies have sent you to speak on their behalf, have they? If the wood flies want to move in with us,” she went on, “they should state their wish themselves, not through a representative such as a grasshopper. We’ve never refused kindly creatures, and there’s plenty of room in Blossom Valley.” She wasn’t keen on the wood flies living on their land but the grasshopper needn’t know that. “You can tell the wood flies, they’ll be welcomed here, only they’ll have to come and see me.”

  Gaspar’s temper was heating up and sweat started rolling down his craggy cheeks. But a cooling smile lit up his face as in that instant the spark in his brain ignited an explosive lie that would blast the spider. He swiped his arm across his runny nose and, picking his words carefully said. “The truth is, lady, the wood flies aren’t bothered much about your land. It’s your butterflies they want. The young leader, head of the wood fly swarms, heard about your butterflies and sneaked in to see them. He was enchanted by them, but his eyes settled on one with exceptional beauty, the one you call princess, I believe. He fell in love with her at first sight and wants to marry her. Don’t worry about the rest - there are quite a few second-in-command grooms.”

  “Over my dead body will our princess or any of our butterflies marry a wood fly. Did you hear me, grasshopper? Now get out of here.”

  Grinding their chiselling teeth, the red squirrels shot out of the bushes and surrounded him.

  “No need to use force, fellas,” said the grasshopper, waving the white daisy in front of their eyes. “I’m almost done. There’s one more thing, Thelma. Your name has been on the tip of my tongue all this time and it’s just come to me. It is Thelma, isn’t it? The wood flies are ferocious, brutal and stubborn. They always get what they’ve set their mind upon. They’ll storm your valley and snatch your butterflies in front of your very eyes.” With a horrible cackle the grasshopper turned his back and stalked away with the red squirrels at his heels.

  George, who’d been within the valley, still recovering, found Thelma shaking. “We heard it all, Thelma,” he said in a whisper. “Plato was with me and he has already alerted his scout bird to keep a close watch on the grasshopper and the wood flies. Don’t be upset. We won’t let any creature come into the valley. Anyway, the wood flies may not even exist.”

  “They do exist, George. There’s a big population of them at Penny Clearing. It’s not them that worry me, it’s Rosa. This was her work, I know it was. The grasshopper knew all about us. He even knew my name. It’s her that scares me George. She won’t rest until the butterflies are...” she choked.

  Sixteen

  After he’d left Blossom Valley well behind, Gaspar sat in the shade of a tree and went over what had just taken place. He was chuffed that his lies had shaken the old spider. This was what he’d done his whole life. Posing as a powerful and respectable leader, he’d deceived, caused misery and ruined creatures’ lives. But he was now tired of being on the run, hunted by those he’d wronged. This wood fly - Blossom Valley scheme of his, could be the biggest and most successful one yet and he’d be a fool to let it slip through his fingers. He could live in the luxury he’d dreamed about his whole miserable life. Thousands of hard working ants would provide the best grain in the region. He’d bring in families of grasshoppers from neighbouring and faraway places and gather a strong army of them. He’d make a family of his own, have sons, like any normal creature, and he would build the biggest and most powerful grasshopper dynasty to rule across Blossom Valley in the years to come. The wood flies would be his neighbours and trusted allies, and with their huge swarms, and his powerful army of grasshoppers no bird or other predator would attempt to threaten them.

  With these tempting thoughts in his head and a huge smile across his face, Gaspar hopped towards Penny Reeds to meet his men.

  It was Dafty who came out of the reeds to greet him. He was the youngest in the gang, nicknamed Dafty, because he was very naive. “How was Blossom Valley, boss?” he asked.

  “It was good, Dafty,” Gaspar replied flatly.

  “I say, boss, did you mean what you said to the ladybird about helping her? What’s in it for us, boss?” Dafty persisted.

  “Ants, Dafty,” Gaspar replied peevishly. “There’re lots of ants in Blossom Valley, and what do ants, do? From dawn to dusk they collect all sorts of food, mainly grain, and stow it in their underground chambers. Well, they won’t be doing much stowing away cause they’ll be handing it over to us.”

  “But, boss...”

  “I’m going to boss you good and proper if you don’t stop firing stupid questions at me like that. You’re doing my head in.”

  “Hold it there, boss,” an old member of the gang interrupted. “The lad only wants to know, we all want to know. All along we’ve followed you through thick and thin and, with respect boss, you’ve led us into big trouble most of the time. You promised us we’d get something good out of each scheme of yours but it always went wrong and we ended up in nasty situations, fights and stuff. I lost one eye. Others lost limbs and some their lives. We’ve had enough, boss. We’re tired of this life, I’m telling you.”

  Gaspar sat on the grass and motioned to the gang to do the same. He drew breath and began. “You’re right to feel this way, fellas. I feel the same. We’ve had a hard life, I admit, but all this is about to change. I’ve been looking
for a permanent and secure place for us all to settle down to a peaceful life and I believe Blossom Valley will do us nicely. That’s why I went there to survey the place and I’m telling you, you’re going to love it there. Besides, we won’t have to worry about food. The ants will provide us with as much grain as we want. I have something big up my sleeve that will change our lives for good. Cheer up, fellas, a bright future awaits us. All that remains now is to get myself down to Penny Clearing and talk to the wood flies.”

  “The wood flies? Why, boss?” one of his men asked.

  “To, offer them the opportunity to move into Blossom Valley with us. It’s good to share the land with creatures that you know, and who better than the trustworthy wood flies whom we’ve known for donkeys’ years?”

  “Boss,” Dug, the one eyed grasshopper, said, “are we going to be involved in fighting? If not, how are we going to get in Blossom Valley?”

  “The wood flies, will do the fighting. Their swarms are huge and well trained to scare the life out of birds of any size. I’ll contribute the plans that take brains to lay out. I have a very important task to deal with, fellas, and must leave you now. I will bring you news tomorrow.”

  He walked out of the reeds, heading for Penny Hollow, a secluded safe place where in peace and quiet he would go over the scheme he would put across to the wood flies, the next morning.

  Seventeen

  Nothing much had changed since the last time Gaspar had been down this way. The majestic old oak tree still stood there, its great limbs gnarled and darkened, stretching across the clearing. He shaded his eyes from the dazzling sun and slowly trudged along.

  The old oak tree hollow was crammed with wood flies. A huge number were chasing each other up and down the enormous oak tree trunk and loads more were loafing on the grass. The humming was loud and the smell unwelcoming.

  One wood fly spotted him and sluggishly walked towards him. It was his old mate, Wilfred, head of the wood flies. His face was withered with age and his swollen belly wobbled like soft jelly as he moved closer.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Gaspar, our long lost mate,” he said with a chuckle. “Come and see fellas.”

  Heaps of wood flies poured out of the hollow as if tipped out of a huge bucket. They blinked and peered at him, as if they’d just woken up or had sore eyes.

  “We had you for dead mate,” Wilfred said, “cause you do get yourself mixed up in some dodgy doings and...”

  “I’m done with dodgy stuff,” Gaspar interrupted. “And if you’re asking about my gang, they’re still loyal to me. I left them behind cause it’s something very important I’ve come to talk to you about. But first let me hear your news, Wilfred. How has it been for you?”

  “We aren’t complaining, mate,” Wilfred replied, patting his belly. “Life’s been good for us. Food is plentiful around here and our women look after us well. Other than that, it’s the same old life. Mind you, we’re glad now that spring’s here. We can stretch out in the sun, the best part of the day.”

  “Some life,” Gaspar snorted. “Dull, boring no excitement no purpose. Idle life has made you obese, Wilfred. You need to be active, have fun, exercise.”

  “We do exercise,” a group of wood flies resting on the brim of the hollow blurted out.

  “We go over the fields.” Wilfred took over. “We do our formation flights. We’re the best in the wood fly world, you know. Mind you, me and my age group don’t do much. We mostly watch and advise.” Then he went silent, staring at the grasshopper, his eyes full of suspicion. “What is it you’re after, Gaspar? You haven’t showed up to give us advice on healthy living, that’s for sure. So I’d better warn you, if it’s anything to do with your old pranks, you’re wasting your time and ours.”

  “I know that a lot of my doings haven’t been good, Wilfred, and some have been terrible.” Gaspar tried to sound regretful. “But it takes all sorts to make the world, doesn’t it? Those bad old days are long gone. Age has changed me to a better being. No more scheming, bullying and fighting. I’ve done it all. I’ve been looking for a place for me and my men to settle down and lead a peaceful life and that’s the reason I’m here, Wilfred. Wandering through the meadow the other day, I overheard some ladybirds talking about a place called Blossom Valley. Have you heard of it?”

  Wilfred let his head drop in a nod, then opened his mouth and let out a long loud yawn. “I’m getting bored, mate,” he moaned. “Where are you taking us with all this?”

  “Be patient, it’ll get more interesting as I go on. The ladybirds were saying that Blossom Valley is a magical place where butterfly princes and princesses live, and I couldn’t believe my ears when they said an enormous spider runs the place. To cut a long story short, I found the place and sneaked in. Mates, you’ve never seen anything like it. Its beauty blew me away. I was trotting along, trying to take it all in, when the spider stomped in front of me. This place is private land and you are trespassing, she said. I am the head of this place and I order you out or I’ll have you removed. Five or six squirrels darted out of nowhere and stood in front of me waiting for the spider’s order to tear me apart. I was scared stiff, of course I was, but I was determined to stand up to her. This isn’t private land, I said to her. It belongs to us all to live in, and no creature whether small or big, weak or mighty, can claim it as theirs. Isn’t that right, mate? Correct me if you think I’m wrong.”

  “No, you’re not wrong, mate,” Wilfred replied, shaking his head.

  “No, no,” the wood flies mumbled together, shaking their heads.

  “Once we had a fox,” an old wood fly started. “Do you remember, fellas?”

  They all nodded.

  “A pack of hounds were after her. She dashed into our hollow. We didn’t turn her away cause it was our own home. Instead we blocked the hollow with our bodies. The hounds lost her scent and we were chuffed we’d saved her life. Isn’t that right, fellas?”

  “Y...eees” they all groaned.

  “Private land, be blowed,” said the old wood fly, belching loudly. “Farmers call their land private, cause they’re humans and buy the farmland from other humans, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well said, my friend,” said Gaspar, eager to carry on. “Going back to the spider, I said to her, me and my friends the wood flies are looking for a place to live and Blossom Valley seems nice enough. So what makes you think you’ve got the right to refuse us? Without any hesitation and with an air of superiority she said, I have complete authority over this place and wood flies are not the sort of creatures I’d welcome in. They’re rough and foul and I wouldn’t welcome conniving grasshoppers either. You’ve heard my answer, she said, now get out. I was boiling with anger and wanted to give her a kick when the squirrels darted at me, gnashing their teeth.” Gaspar drew breath and was about to carry on, when Wilfred stopped him.

  “Hold it there, mate,” he said, cause you’ve got me a little confused. Did you ever hear us say we’re in need of a home? It’s you and your gang that have always been homeless. Besides, who gave you the right to speak to the spider on our behalf? Cause I’m telling you her remarks have upset me real deep.” He gave Gaspar a long considering look. “If I know you, and I know you well, you’ve never given a toss about us nor, anyone else. All you’ve ever cared was what you’d get out of it. So what’s the catch, grasshopper? What’s inside that cunning brain of yours?”

  Never before had Wilfred called him grasshopper, and that worried Gaspar. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead and his jaw twitched nervously. He glanced over at the crowds of wood flies and his gaze rested on Wilfred’s suspicious face.

  “There’s no catch mate,” he said with certainty in his voice. “It’s genuine through and through. I have friends, of course I have, who’d give their right arm to live in place like Blossom Valley. But they’re the troublesome lot from my old days and I’ve broken
away from them. Blossom Valley is a vast place, too big for a handful of us. My gang has shrunk since I last saw you.” He faked sadness in his voice. “I’ve lost some of my best men. You’ve been my mates for donkeys’ years and I trust you cause you’re honest creatures. This is the reason I’m here today, to offer you this golden opportunity to move with me and my men to Blossom Valley.

  “Your population has grown since I last saw you, and the squalid conditions you live in crammed up in these hollows are unacceptable for you but more so for your females and the young ones. Blossom Valley is a paradise with gardens you’ve never imagined, streams and ponds where you can wash yourselves or have a swim and there’s more trees and hollows than you can count. The females will love it there, especially the young ones who can mix with the noble butterflies, and you never know, some butterfly prince may fall in love with them.”

  The young female wood flies hid themselves behind each other and squealed bashfully.

  Gaspar spotted the excitement in their eyes, and the shy smile that came to their faces and a tingle of encouragement went through him. “Well?” he prompted Wilfred with a long stare.

  But the old wood fly, wise to the grasshopper’s devious nature, remained unimpressed and disinterested.

  The grasshopper coughed to draw everyone’s attention for all he could do now was bluff.

  “Well mates,” he said trying to hide all trace of disappointment, “you’ve heard all that I said. If you’re still, doubting me you’ve only got to say so, and I’ll be on my way.”

  Wilfred glanced at his people and his people glanced at him. It seemed that Gaspar’s words had brightened their cheerless faces and put a sparkle in their dull eyes.

  “I must say, Gaspar,” he began, “you did well to stand up to the spider the way you did. Her arrogance has angered me but her harsh words against us wood flies have hurt me deeply cause all us creatures are what we are. That’s how nature made us; we didn’t choose what to be. But we all have a purpose on this earth and no creature more privileged than us should despise us. So somebody should tell the spider that. As to whether we want to move, it’s not up to me to decide. I’ve handed the leadership over to my eldest son, Hugo, who makes the decisions now.”