Hatched

by Bruce Coville

  I looked around a little more but didn’t find anything unusual. Then I climbed the ladder to the first loft. It stretches the width of the barn, a distance of about fifty feet. (I know because I paced it off one day last year.) It’s empty and has no walls to divide it up, so the floor area seems huge.

  Since there was no place for anything to hide, it was easy to see that there was nothing weird here. But as I was about to climb the steps to the next level, I heard a soft sound from above me.

  I turned to run, then stopped and said to myself, “Don’t be a derp. It’s just the wind!”

  I started up the steps. Even though I had told myself it was just the wind, I went slowly, ready to leap down and do the Big Scramboolian if I needed to. On the fourth step I leaned forward and pressed myself to the stairs, then lifted my eyes over the edge of the next level’s floor.

  Holy bouncing green tomatoes! I was looking at a griffin!

  A freaking griffin!!!

  I am not making this up, not imagining it, not playing a game. I know what a griffin looks like. I haven’t spent all that time reading myths and legends for nothing. This was the real thing…an enormous eaglelike head (with those doofy horse ears), massive wings folded along its sides, and the tawny body of a lion. It was bigger than a lion, though…more like a good-sized pony.

  I was still gawping when it turned its gaze in my direction, looked me right in the eye, then let out a loud GAAAH!

  Now I knew what I had heard yesterday! But there wasn’t much satisfaction in that, since I was afraid the creature was about to leap forward and bite off my head. Heart pounding, I scrambled down the steps, down the ladder, and out of the barn, half expecting the griffin to come rushing after me.

  It didn’t.

  In fact, I didn’t hear any sound at all, other than myself gasping for breath.

  But I know I didn’t imagine it! The thing was too big, too solid, too real.

  I don’t know what to do now. The fact that it didn’t chase me makes me wonder if it’s not really dangerous. What if it’s wounded or something and needs help?

  I kind of want to go up there with my cell phone and see if I can get a picture of the thing, since no one will believe me if I just tell them about it. But somehow that seems wrong. I feel like I was given the chance to see something sacred and strange, something that didn’t want to be seen, and I shouldn’t talk about it, shouldn’t spread it around.

  Also, if anyone found out a griffin was here, they would want to capture it. That idea horrifies me.

  I’ve decided not to tell Bibi about this, at least not yet. I know how it would go…most likely she would humor me, pretending to go along with some game I was playing, which would make me crazy. But there’s a small chance she might decide to go out and look for herself. What if the creature really is dangerous and doesn’t want an adult to see it? I can’t put Bibi in danger that way!

  Wednesday, July 1 (even later)

  I am paralyzed by fear. It’s broad daylight, so I can’t flee the barn. If I did, I would be seen by even more people!

  Besides, if I flee and Master Abelard returns, as I so fervently hope, how would he find me?

  Even worse, what if I were to be captured?

  No, that could never happen. I would just fly away!

  But what if I couldn’t? What if there are humans with nets out there right now, and they sent the boy to tempt me out?

  Oh, where is Master A? And why in the world did I ever decide to run away?!

  I have been crouching here for hours. But I have settled on what I will do if the boy comes back. My plan might be madness. It might be folly. But I am determined to carry through on it. After all, I can hardly make things worse.

  Now that I’ve made a decision, I feel easier of mind.

  Of course, it depends on the boy returning.

  Which he might not do.

  From Brad’s Real Journal

  7/1 (continued)

  Holy naked nectarines!

  I’m so excited I can barely stay in my skin! But I have to write this all down, to be sure I’ll remember it precisely.

  So…after a few hours here in the house, I decided to go back to the barn. Part of me was terrified, of course. But seriously, how could I not check this out?

  I climbed the ladder to the first loft, moving as silently as I could. Then, sticking close to the wall, I crawled over to the stairs that lead to the upper loft. I kind of snaked my way up them, then raised my head just high enough to peek over the edge.

  The griffin was there…and he was looking right at me!

  I slid down, terrified.

  The griffin didn’t attack. Instead, it called, “You can come back up if you want. I won’t hurt you.”

  I hadn’t been expecting that! But if a parrot can talk, then I guess there isn’t any reason an eagle-headed creature can’t do the same. Especially if it’s a mythical being to begin with.

  “Did you hear me?” it asked.

  “Yes, but how do I know I can believe that you won’t hurt me?”

  “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already!”

  That made sense. The creature had to be very fast. He could have pounced on me before I made it halfway across the floor.

  I took a deep breath, then climbed the steps. But I didn’t go all the way up. Once my head was above the upper loft’s floor level I stopped and said, “Promise you won’t hurt me?”

  “I am a civilized being,” the griffin replied, sounding offended. “I would never eat a person. What I mostly like is fish and bunnies. So you’re safe, and I’m pleased to meet you. Well, not entirely pleased, because I’m not supposed to be seen by humans at all. But mostly pleased, because I am lonely and frightened. Sorry, I’m dithering. I do that a lot.” He stopped, took a breath, then said, “My name is Gerald.”

  “I’m Bradley,” I answered, “and I am mostly pleased to meet you, too. Actually, as long as you’re not going to eat me, I’m enormously pleased!”

  “I would stand to greet you,” said the griffin, “but I fear it might alarm you. So I will remain seated for now.”

  “Thank you, Gerald. I think I will also remain where I am for now.” Trying to think of what to say next, I asked, “If you’re not supposed to be seen by humans, why are you here?”

  To my horror, he began to cry! Not loud sobs, just big tears that slowly rolled out of his eyes and down his enormous beak.

  “I ran away from home. My teacher, Master Abelard, came with me, but he’s disappeared, and I don’t know what to do! I’m very frightened. It was very bad for me to let myself be seen by a human. I am afraid I will get in a lot of trouble for it.”

  Which was when I realized this griffin was really just a kid like me. I wanted to go pat him on the shoulder and tell him everything would be all right, but I wasn’t ready to get that close. So I just said, “That must be very frightening for you. Where is your home?”

  Gerald shrugged his wings. “Oh, around here somewhere.”

  “Do you mean you live right here in the Catskills?”

  “No, no. I live in the Enchanted Realm. I say ‘around here somewhere’ because the Realm is connected to the human world. It’s hard to explain. Think of it as the world next door. We’re separated by a thing called the Transcendental Curtain. I came through the curtain not far from here.”

  He shuddered, and I could tell it had been a difficult journey.

  “The thing is,” he continued, “now that I’m in your world, home might as well be a million miles away, because I don’t know how to go back!” His wings slumped and he wailed, “I can’t go back anyway! I’ve done such a bad thing.”

  I was beginning to think Gerald was awfully high-strung for a griffin. I would have expected more boldness, and maybe less emotion.

  He shook himself, then said, “Why don’t you come up here? It will be easier to talk.”

  “I’m fine where I am,” I answered, still not feeling entirely safe.

&nbs
p; “So you’re just going to stand on the stair and stare?” he asked.

  I laughed. “I didn’t know griffins made puns!”

  “Most of us don’t. I’m an unusual griffin.” He shook his head and added, “In many ways.”

  Just then I heard Bibi calling. She sounded like she was right downstairs.

  “That’s my grandmother,” I said. “I gotta go, otherwise she might come up here looking for me!”

  “Go!” urged the griffin. “I can’t afford to be seen by yet another human! But come back soon. Please?”

  He sounded so lonely I couldn’t help myself.

  “I will,” I said. “I promise!”

  But I couldn’t right away, because of who was waiting in the barn with Bibi.

  That’s all I can write for now. I’m being called for dinner.

  Oh! Dinner makes me think of one more quick thing. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to worry about Gerald wanting to eat me. If he were simply after food, he would have had me call for Bibi to come up to the loft, rather than urging me to hurry down so she wouldn’t see him. Then he could have had two meals without much trouble.

  So that’s cool. I was hoping to make a friend this summer. I just never imagined it would be a griffin!

  After supper, I’m definitely going back out to the barn.

  Wednesday, July 1 (late afternoon)

  My gamble of talking to the human paid off! His name is Bradley, and he seems to be a pleasant boy. It’s hard to say for sure…we had only chatted for a little while before his grandmother called him and he had to hurry away.

  I hope he will come back soon. It was good to have some company. Only now that he is gone I feel lonelier and more miserable than ever.

  Should I go look for Master Abelard? I can’t do it in the daytime, of course. And I wouldn’t know where to begin anyway. He is so small he could be anywhere. For all I know he fell through some hole in the barn floor.

  No! My teacher is smart and tough and resourceful. I am sure he is all right.

  But why has he not returned?

  What will I do if he never comes back?

  And what about my family? To my surprise, I am really missing them. A lot.

  From Brad’s Real Journal

  7/1 (evening)

  Holy farm cooking, Bibi’s meals are heaven on a plate!

  As planned, Herb came over for dinner. I get the impression he will be with us most nights.

  I can’t decide whether it’s cute or weird that my grandmother has a boyfriend.

  The downside to having Bibi cook is that I have to help with cleanup, since there is no dishwasher. Well, there’s no machine that washes dishes. There is a dishwasher. His name is Herb.

  Tonight I was the designated dryer.

  (Heh. That’s a good one!)

  The funny thing is, I don’t mind having to dry the dishes, even though it takes a lot longer than it does to empty the dishwasher at home, which is something I hate.

  Maybe it’s because I empty the dishwasher alone, but when I am drying the dishes, whether it’s with Bibi or Herb, we talk. Herb is usually very jokey, but tonight he was in a serious mood and told me the story of how he lost his hand. I admire the way he deals with that. It’s astonishing to watch him do dishes. He washes them faster with one hand than I can manage with two!

  Even though I was enjoying our conversation, I was dying to get back to the barn so I could tell Gerald what had happened this afternoon. Here it is: When I came down from the loft Bibi was standing at the barn door. Next to her was a guy in some kind of uniform.

  “Brad, this is Sergeant McConnell,” Bibi said. “He wants to ask you a few questions.”

  “About what?” I asked nervously.

  The man smiled. “Just checking up on something.” He was trying to sound casual, but I could tell he was serious. “The other night, radar over at Huntsline picked up a strange, low-flying object during that big storm. We tracked it for a while but finally lost it. We think it might have crashed somewhere around here. Your grandmother tells me you like to ramble around in the woods, so I was wondering if you had seen any sign of it—maybe even just some scraps of metal?”

  “Are you telling me you’re looking for a UFO?” I asked.

  He scowled. “I’d rather not use that term. So, have you seen anything?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, if either of you does run across something, please give me a call. Here’s my card, ma’am.”

  As he was driving off the truth hit me. What they had picked up on their radar wasn’t a UFO…it was Gerald!

  I can’t wait to tell him about this. I think it’s hilarious!

  Wednesday, July 1 (early evening)

  I spent the afternoon alternating between worry about Master Abelard and fear over what penalty I might face for having been seen by a human.

  Despite that fear, I am desperately hoping the boy will come back. I need someone to talk to!

  From the Notebook of

  Abelard Chronicus

  July 1 (later)

  In the space of but a few moments I have experienced the best of all possible news and the worst of all possible news.

  The best is simple and wonderful. After nearly three centuries, I have found my twin! Eduard is here in New Batavia, just as I had hoped he would be. It turns out he was away on a mission when that patrol found me, which is why they mistook me for him. I guess there was quite a fuss when he returned and they realized their error.

  He showed up at my door about an hour ago, and we both burst into tears at finally seeing each other again. We jabbered away happily, thrilled at our reunion, until Magda, the woman in charge of my healing, insisted I had to rest. So Eduard bid me farewell and has returned to his family.

  Alas, I cannot go with him, which is the bad side of the news. It turns out that if the gnomes who found me had realized I was not a citizen of New Batavia, they would have taken me to one of the humans who help keep the city a secret. No one is allowed entry here without permission…not even another gnome! It seems New Batavia is as strict about keeping its existence a secret as is the university and indeed all of the power structure of the Enchanted Realm. Clearly it was a mistake not to inform them I was not Eduard when I first awoke, as they now feel that I am untrustworthy. It makes no difference that I have a brother here and that I myself was a citizen of the original Batavia. They fear I might have turned on them and will reveal their location to the emperor. Once again my tendency to withhold the truth, to keep my secrets, has led me into trouble. Though in this case I don’t know if telling the truth would have made any difference. The Batavians would still have held me under house arrest. It’s particularly aggravating because I long with all my heart to explore the city.

  Alas, they insist I must post bond before they will allow me out of this room, for fear I might make an escape attempt.

  I have nothing to offer, of course, and I have only one way to get something…though the thought of asking for it almost sickens me with self-disgust.

  Unfortunately, I see no other way.

  Poor Gerald.

  Wednesday, July 1 (late evening)

  To my relief, Bradley reappeared an hour before it got dark. I was happy to see him, but he gave me some disturbing information when he said, “The reason I had to leave earlier was that someone was here looking for you.”

  Jumping up with a squawk, I cried, “Was it someone from the Enchanted Realm?”

  I realized at once this was a silly question. No one from the Realm would have revealed himself to humans that way.

  “Whoa, whoa, calm down!” said Bradley. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I wasn’t frightened,” I replied, trying to maintain a bit of dignity. “I was alarmed. It’s different.”

  “Well, I didn’t mean to alarm you. Actually, it’s pretty funny. It was someone from the government. They picked you up on radar when you flew through the storm the other night.”

  “What i
s radar?”

  Bradley thought for a minute, scowling as if it were hard to explain. Finally he said, “It’s a way we have of tracking what’s flying around.”

  “So it’s a kind of magic!”

  “No, it’s not magic. It’s science.”

  “Sounds like magic to me.”

  Bradley laughed. “According to my father—”

  He stopped, and I could tell that for Bradley, as for me, the word “father” is packed with emotion.

  “Go on,” I said softly.

  He nodded. “My father was a Grade A science fiction geek. He told me once that one of the greatest science fiction writers of all time, a guy named Arthur C. Clarke, had said that ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ So even though radar might sound like magic, there’s a scientific explanation for it. Anyway, that’s not the important thing. Here’s why it was funny. They thought you were a UFO!”

  I only understood about half of what he had just said. But rather than ask him about “science fiction” or what a geek is, I went for the most important question: “What is a UFO?”

  “An unidentified flying object.”

  “But then they were right!”

  “Of course they weren’t.”

  “I was flying, right? And they didn’t know what I was, right? Therefore, I was clearly an unidentified flying object.”

  Bradley sighed. “Well, yes. But when we talk about UFOs, we’re really talking about ships from outer space.”