Omach and Zair watched in amazement as the Ozure threw his fire starting stones as far as he could out of anger and then reached down and picked up the two parts of the chair that had his eye and ear... Zair and the Omach could only guess at what he was yelling at him.
The Omach stood up and took the orb back to its place on the shelf. He walked to the door and looked out at the rain.
“I think it has rained enough here in the meadow.” The then the Omach clapped his hands three times and pushed his opened hands in the direction of the Ozure’s deadwood grove.
The rain that was still coming down hard started to move slowly away from the meadow towards the east.
“I am sure though that the Ozure would enjoy an all night downpour!” The Omach said with a smile and looked to Zair who again watched in amazement. “What do you think my little friend?”
“I think that is a great idea.” Zair exclaimed as he watched the move from over their heads and start slowly towards the Ozure.
The sky opened and revealed zillions of stars shedding enough light on the meadow to cast slight shadows. The coolness of night slipped in where the clouds once blanketed the small grove with warmth. The air became crisp and refreshing and smelled of fresh from rain flower fragrance.
Zair was fluffing his almost dry feathers and preening them one at a time with his beak. The Omach tidied up the hut, putting this and that where it belonged so that when he and Zair left at dawn to rescue the rickety old chair, there would be nothing to delay them.
“What time are we going to leave in the morning?” Zair asked the Omach after the last feather popped out of his beak.
“Oh…” the Omach answered quickly, “we are going to leave much before the morning. When you hear the zoles yipping and yapping and scurrying into their holes after a night of play, I will wake you.”
Zair shook his head… “But that is before the first sun even comes up!”
“Exactly, if we want to get to the deadwood grove before the Ozure finds his fire starting stones and his wood pile dries out, we need to be on our way first thing.”
“But what about the rain,” Zair asked flying onto the Omach’s shoulder?
“I imagine it will be stopping in a few hours. I can only make it rain for so long…’
“But you are the Omach!”
“You are right,” the Omach reached and lifted the little bird from his shoulder and walked slowly to the bedroom. “I have powers indeed, but they are limited by my being and my understanding, both of which are limited themselves by their source… my heart and the love that fills it.”
The Omach set the bird on a small branch that protruded from the wall right to the left of his bed. Zair looked at him and questioned.
“But you heart is filled with love. I know you love the chair and the trees and the flowers and the meadow and…”
“You,” the Omach smiled widely and tapped the bird gently on the beak. “You are correct my little friend, I have a heart filled with love because my life is filled with lovely and loving things.”
“Then how can it be limited?”
The Omach held forth a cupped hand… “How much can this hold... one large rock, a zillion grains of sand? Enough for one yet not enough for all… limited”
Zair shook his head and fluffed his feathers and let out a little yawn.
“As your concern for the chair has become overpowered by your need for sleep, my powers can be overpowered by all that is around me. Tomorrow I will have all that the Ozure can conjure up to defeat me to deal with.”
The Omach slipped off his pants and got slowly under the covers. “I need to empty my cupped hands for the night so that when the time comes tomorrow, I can grasp all that I need to save the chair.”
“I understand.” Zair said and closed his eyes.
“I know you do.” The Omach smiled and blew out the lamp. “I know you do.”
“HEY!” The chair yelled when the Ozure grabbed the piece of wood that his eye was carved in and jamming his thumb just above the chair’s eyelid. “That hurts!”
From his mouthboard that was in the Ozure’s other hand the busted up chair pleaded, “Can you please remove your thumb from my eye?”
The Ozure squeezed a bit harder. “There, how do you like that you loud mouth chair. A talking chair… only a creation of the Omach could be that ikord. I can not wait until you dry out enough for me to burn you to ashes.”
The Ozure tossed the chairs eye board through the air and onto the repositioned pile of firewood. Settling on top of his back leg, the chair watched the Ozure as he started looking fiendishly for his starting stones. Tearing through the rubbish that surrounded his hut the Ozure became more and more frustrated and soon started babbling nonsense over and over again
“Rain… it never rains. The Omach… is trying to protect his precious little chair… I hate rain… I hate the Omach… I hate that chair… Rain… it never rains.” The Ozure became more and more angry, mostly with himself for just throwing his starting stones the night before when it started raining. He did that sort of thing a lot and every time he turned sourer inside.
The Omach swung his legs out of bed and looked to the corner that just the morning before, the rickety old chair sat.
“Do not worry my lost and broken friend,” the Omach said to the empty spot. “I will have you home where you belong before the suns set… I promise.”
“Omach,” Zair stretched his wings and fluffed his feathers… “Is it time to go?”
“Not quite yet my little friend, first we must nourish our bodies, our minds and our spirit. We have a great and monumental task ahead of us… I do not want to begin without first being prepared.” The Omach reached his finger for the little bird… “You must go out into the meadow and eat and drink. Rally your friends and let them know that they are being called upon to help defeat evil this morning. Let them know that their numbers are needed and they will be a part of something that will be talked about for many, many omzs to come.”
The Omach walked into the main room and towards the door. When he was almost out, Zair sprang from his finger and flew swiftly towards the trees that surrounded the Omach’s hut, chirping and cheeping loudly.
“I will Omach,” Zair said loudly with great purpose in his voice, “I will gather al of my friends together and tell them what the Ozure has done and that they must join us today. I will not let you down!”
The Omach turned back into his hut smiling. He went to his cupboard and took out his bowl and a wooden container of grains and seeds.
“First things first,” the Omach said out loud to himself while pouring the grainy mixture in his bowl. “A full stomach will prepare my body for the physical challenge that is ahead of me.”
“Perhaps,” the chair said to the Ozure, who was still searching franticly for his starting stones, “you should not have just thrown them into the darkness. I know you think you are smarter that I am, but it seems that even though I am in quite the predicament and a bit at your mercy… you are not as smart as you might think.”
The Ozure ran over to the chairs mouth board and snatched it up. “You listen to me chair… if you are not careful, I will not wait to burn you. I could think of many other ways to destroy the great Omach’s creation.”
The Ozure raised the mouth board high above his head; “Maybe I will just beat you and all of your incredibly irritating parts into little pieces… very small and impossible for even the great Omach to put back together again pieces. How would you like that, you and your wise mouth attitude? “
“Like I said, perhaps you do not think before you act out your anger… If you do what you say and smash me into splinters, will you be making another mistake? Can you be sure that the Omach would not be able to put me back together again?”
The Ozure brought the mouth board down to eye-level and scowled.
“I am sure of one thing mouthy mouth… after I burn you the Omach will not be able to make wood from ashes… No not even the great Oma
ch can do that!”
The Ozure tossed the mouth board back onto the pile of wood.
“The other thing I am sure of is that there are other starting stones… all I have to do is find them.” The Ozure turned away from the chair in pieces and walked towards the deadwood grove. “You are not going to be such a smart mouth board when I return with new starting stones!”
The chair felt afraid and could only hope that it would take longer for the Ozure to find new starting stones in the deadwood grove than it would for him to find the ones he knew were nearby.
The Omach and Zair started on their way to the deadwood grove and the unavoidable conflict that was before them. Zair being a little frightened sat on the Omach’s shoulder where he felt more secure. The Omach walked quickly and aggressively along the path that led through the meadow and towards the babbling brook, planting each step firmly on the ground. Then suddenly he stopped, with his right leg still suspended in the air.
“I would not want to smash you tiny critters”, he said to the scurrying about group of zants that were busy building a nest for the night. “I would eventually never see the marvelous zuttahflyz you would become.” The Omach stepped down and away from the zants that seemed oblivious to his presence or the danger they had avoided.
Zair poked at the Omach’s ear and said; “Not to mention they are ferociously violent if you try and eat them!”
The Omach let out an entertained laugh.
“That my little friend is why I only eat that which could not eat me back! Especially when they travel in such numbers.”
The Omach stopped and turned around so quickly that Zair lost his footing, fell off his shoulder and hovered in front of the Omach.
“What is it!” Zair looked into the Omach’s piercing eyes.
“Numbers… we need numbers!” The Omach reached a finger to the little bird that quickly landed on it. “You my little friend, must fly as fast as you can back to the meadow and gather your friends. You must tell them they are to be part of what will never be forgotten. They will be among those that are talked about for all time eternal.”
Zair tipped his head this way and that.
“I know you do not understand me, and that is alright. Just gather them together and as fast as you and yours can, meet me at the top of the darkrock butte that over looks the deadwood grove.”
“And then,” the little bird asked.
And then we will start the time none will ever forget!”
Zair sprang from the Omach’s finger and flew for the meadow. “We will be there waiting for you Omach, I promise!”
“I know you will my little friend, I know you will.”
The Omach turned from the zants and cupped his hands around his eyes. He knew it would not take Zair and the other birds very long to get from the meadow to the darkrock butte and he really wanted to be there to greet them. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Looking straight up into the sky he narrowed his field of vision by moving his cupped hands closer together.
“Vision of hope, vision of mine…” the Omach said softly as he lowered his head and looked towards the darkrock butte, “show me the way, show me the line.”
The Omach stared intently in the direction of the butte. Little by little he could see a path opening up before him, a path unobstructed. He knew that this would be the fastest and most direct route to his destination. Now it was time to do what he learned from the zabits many omz ago.
“I have not done this in forty-two omz,” the Omach said aloud to himself, “I hope I remember how.”
The Omach lowered his hands and clenched his fists. When he opened his eyes as wide as they would open he took a deep breath and said the magic word… Powie! He felt his feet leave the ground and the wind rushed into his eyes so fast that he had to close them. Then it was still and he felt the ground against his feet. He opened his eyes and saw Zair on a branch directly in front of him.
“You zipped!”
“I did,” the Omach said and smiled. “I am really glad to see I remembered how.”
Zair turned to all of his friends in the trees all around him and shouted; “Did you all see what the Omach did? He zipped… like the zabits.”
Then the little bird turned to the Omach and asked; “Did you teach the zabits how to do that? I think you did.”
“Actually my little friend, they taught me.” The Omach looked at his feet… they were glowing orangello a bit. “I do not remember though, if my feet are supposed to do that.”
“Oh my, do they hurt?” Zair asked dropping off the branch and fluttering to the ground just next to the Omach’s feet.
“No, I think it is from the friction of moving so very fast. It should pass.” The Omach held out a finger for his little friend to land on. “Come closer my little friend.”
Zair flew onto the Omach’s finger and all of his friends flew nearer and hopped from branch to branch getting as close as they could get. Then when all their little ears were focused and their eyes were fixed, the Omach laid out the plan.
“Oh my,” Zair said right in the midst of the Omach speaking. “I do not think a plan is going to do much good! LOOK!”
The Omach turned his head towards the deadwood grove… “Smoke… We may already be too late!”
“Oh Omach.” Zair pleaded with a panicked voice, “It can not be too late, we have to save the chair. It is truly all my fault. There has to be something we can do!”
“You are right Zair,” The Omach lifted him directly in front of his face and looked him in the eyes. “You and all your friends fly as fast as you can and let your instincts take control! Do not think of what to do or about your personal safety. Let the energy of your entire emotions guide you and the forces that surround you will control your actions. Go now… I will be close behind!”
The Omach snatched the orb from his pocket, said the magic words and after a soft breath the fate of the chair appeared in the orb. The Ozure had started quite a large fire and was dancing like the madman he was, around and around the blaze. He had the chair in pieces a small distance from the pyre propped up against a dead tree stump.
“It looks like he is going to burn the chair one piece at a time,” the Omach said out loud. “Only the Ozure would think of something so cruel… I have to hurry!”
The Omach tucked the orb back in his pocket and prepared for another zip!
Zair led the barrage of birds swiftly through the trees, keeping his eyes focused on the smoke ahead. He felt what little fear he had of what lie ahead slowly fade away. Little by little his heart was filled with overpowering love for the chair. His guilt turned into compassion and all he wanted to do was save his friend from a horrible death.
“Hurry!” he shouted back to his comrades, “keep the smoke ahead of you and any concern for yourself behind. This is a day all will speak of for a thousand omzs!”
The birds that followed him all cheered and squawked loudly with an excitement they had never felt before. They also felt no fear, just an incredible feeling that fate was in charge and that nothing bad was going to happen…
When the Omach touched down he was on a small hill overlooking the Ozure’s hut and the now enormous blaze. He could see the pieces of the chair and could hear the mouth saying over and over ‘this has to be a bad dream, this has to be a bad dream’!
The Ozure was nowhere in sight. “But where is the Ozure,” he asked himself.
Then with a whir and swift fluttering of wings, Zair and all his friends landed on the branches in the trees nearest him. He held out a finger for Zair who quickly took his special spot and looked with the Omach at the scene before them.
“Oh my goodness,” Zair shouted, “Omach you have to make it rain before it is too late!”
The Omach pointed with his other hand towards the spectacle that was before them. “There is not enough time for that my friend. Do you see over there where the Ozure has the bits and pieces of the chair stacked against the rock?”
Zair nod
ded his head ‘yes’.
“You and your friends must fly as fast as you can. Work together, gather him up and carry him to safety! Can you do that?”
Zair looked at his friends and said; “We can! You heard the Omach. We need to do this and we need to do it now!”
Not one of the birds hesitated, instead they all flew like the wind straight for the soon to be doomed chair. The Omach started down the hill as fast as his feet would carry him, all the time watching for the Ozure to reappear.
Zair and three other birds swooped down to the stacked up chair and landed right in front of the eye-piece that was leaning against the ear-piece. Several others grabbed the chair’s mouth- piece and started flying away.
“Oh I am so happy to see you Zair.” The mouthpiece said as it was lifted slowly off the ground. “Please hurry! Where is the Omach? The Ozure will be back soon. Did you see the size of that fire? Oh my, I do not want to burn!”
Zair reassured the panicked chair; “ my friends and I are going to take all of your pieces to a safe place. I am sorry if I hurt you,” Zair said jumping to the top of the eye-piece; digging in his talons.
“I do not feel a thing,” said the mouth as it was carried high into the air and over the fire.
Zair and the other two birds started up with the eye-piece. Two more snatched the chair’s right arm following close behind. Many other birds landed and started scurrying about unsure of which pieces should be taken next.
“The ear-piece is very important!” It was the Omach. He was coming down the hill fast and straight for the fire. “Make sure to get the ear-piece!”
Reacting to the Omach, several birds dropped the leg they were starting away with and rushed to save the ear-piece. The leg was headed straight for the fire. A close by smaller bird dove and grabbed it tightly with his talons. The little bird did not realize that it was too heavy for only him to carry and it pulled him straight down like a rock into the fire.
“No,” the Omach shouted as the flames swallowed the bird and the chair’s leg in a puff of smoke. “Do not panic, you must work together!”
Just then the Ozure seemed to appear from nowhere. “I knew you would show up and try to save that ridiculous creation. The great Omach, what a joke! Did you really think you and a bunch of birds could stop me?”
The Omach turned and pointed a finger at him. “I will do what I must to save the chair from your wickedness…”
“I think not, my favorite foe… you have stepped right where I want you!”
The Omach looked down and saw the Evilines that only grew in the deadwood grove coil themselves around his ankles. Before he could respond they pulled him to the ground and started to move up around his legs.
“Omach!” It was Zair, he was swooping down towards the Omach to try and help.
“Save the chair!” the Omach shouted as he lifted himself up and grabbed at the tightening Evilines. “I will be fine… Just get the chair to safety!”
“You will be fine? I do not think so!” The Ozure sprang in the air and landed with his feet directly in front of the Omach. “Remember this?”
The Ozure blew red dust in the Omach’s face… “Remind you of something?”
The Omach fell back unable to move.
“That is right Omach… it is the dried and powdered blood of the bleeding heart from Tabeuiboo that you thought you destroyed. Well you were wrong. After you left me lying there broken and with nothing but my evil will to cheer me up… I heard it beating. That is right old friend from under that huge pile of rocks you broke loose from the mountainside the bleeding heart still pounded. It pounded and pounded a healing beat that warmed my evil spirit”
The Omach remembered… way back when he was much younger and his father met with him and his brother. They were sitting by the fire on a cold windy night. The sky was a strange blood red color and the sound of the wind was like soft moaning. The Omach and his younger brother the Ozure felt a chill that they had not felt before and a fear that was unfamiliar.
“My sons,” their father spoke softly and deliberately, “ I have never told you about the three suns that circle our world. Long ago, there was only one, one very large, very bright sun that circled so far from our world, that it was cold and lifeless. This sun was called Hupae… and was alive and alone.
“One day Hupae became aware of his loneliness and was saddened, distraught. His sadness grew and grew; building within his being such pressure that he eventually exploded into three parts. Two of the parts were smaller and carried within them each a part of Hupae.
“The one soft yellowish sun that we call Kafetivot, carried within him the compassionate and loving traits of Hupae. The other red sun that we call Tabeuiboo, the smaller of the two carried the bitter resentful side. They both looked to Hupae for guidance and direction graciously taking their proper place orbiting Zato.”
The Omach remembered he and his brother both looking at their father, listening with amazement. They had always been curious about the three suns that circled their planet and were happy their questions were finally being answered.
“For a long time,” their father continued, “they all three circled the planet being drawn closer and closer because of their diminished size. After a time they stabilized where they are today and with their radiant heat spread evenly, our world was soon filled with life. Eventually, it became the home of all the creatures and plant life we see today, all happy and living in peace.
“It was not the same for the three suns. The lesser sun Tabeuiboo became more and more resentful of the commonality shared between Hupae and Kafetivot. More and more there was a division between the three suns, almost as there is between the three of us.”
The Omach and his brother looked at each other feeling ashamed. They looked at their father and knew what he was speaking of. The Ozure felt angry with his brother because he was more like their father and the Omach took joy in the knowledge of his brother’s insecurity. The two boys never talked about it and were somewhat surprised that their father brought it up… they both at that moment realized that he had known all along.
“Yes my sons,” their father said with sadness in his voice, “I know that there is little love shared between my sons and it is because of what happened next that it is so.”
The Omach’s father kneeled down to tend the fire. He stirred the burning branches and red-hot coals, and then he carefully placed another two chunks of wood in the flames.
“What happened next Father?” the Ozure asked.
“Yes father… Please continue,” the Omach added.
Their father sat back down on the stump in front of his boys and picked up where he had left off.
“OH, IK,” the Ozure interrupted the Omach’s memory shouting… seeing several birds carrying the last of the chair up and away from the danger of the fire.
“Your friends have almost done it, they have almost saved all of that wooden loud mouthed creation… almost all of it!”
The Ozure reached down and picked up a large rock and threw it as hard as he could at the birds that were escaping with the last pieces of the chair. The Omach turned his head and watched as the rock hit the chair’s right arm that Zair and another bird were carrying to safety. The arm fell into the fire and Zair was knocked lifeless into the trees.
“You are truly mad Ozure.” The Omach said with disgust and pity in his voice. “I can not believe you would go through all of this just to destroy a talking chair.”
“Oh, but you are wrong.” The Ozure knelt down next to the Omach and took hold of his long sandy beard. “It was never about the chair, no not that rickety old blabbering chair. Oh ikord man, I could have burned that atrocity long before that bird got half way to you. The chair… the importance of your creation flatters only you!”
The Omach tried to move his arms but the paralyzing powder made it impossible. The Ozure gave his beard a violent tug and keeping tension on it caused the Omach to grimace in pain. The Omach looked with his eyes and
could see the lifeless body of his little friend laying in the dirt.
“How could you…” the Omach questioned, “even you Ozure, find joy in taking the life of a little bird? A little bird that was only trying to save the life of his friend…”
“Just another of your ego stroking creations. A talking bird… a talking chair…” The Ozure looked into the Omach’s eyes and lifted his head off the ground by his beard. “Why do you think what you have to talk about is so important, that others want to listen?”
“You have it wrong,” the Omach smiled through the pain, “it is my need to listen to them! What I have to say, I have already heard. What they have to say is where learning is found.”
“Ik,” the Ozure said and released the Omach’s beard letting his head fall hard to the ground. “No body has anything to say that I need to hear.”
The Omach smiled at the frowning Ozure and concluded; “That my friend is why you are the way you are.”
The Ozure stood up, walked over and pulled the Evilines out of the ground by their roots and started to drag the Omach towards his hut. He stopped about half way and threw more dead wood onto the fire. The fire blazed even hotter than before with the new fuel… the Ozure laughed with joy.
The Omach tried to relax his body. He was pulled across the rough ground. He ignored the sharpness of the rocks and broken branches his back scraped over. Even thought the pain was intense, he thought only of being back at his meadow where he lived and loved his life.
Then he heard a faint, small voice off in the distance… it was Zair.
He looked over to the left beyond the fire and saw his little friend very much alive and hiding in the shadows of the only tree in the deadwood grove with leaves. Zair was not alone; all of his friends were there too. All hiding and waiting for the right time to do something… the Omach could only wonder what that might be.
When they reached the Ozure’s hut, the Omach was propped up against the rock like the bits and pieces of the chair. He noticed that the more he let go of the pain and discomfort and let his heart feel only the love that filled his being his paralysis faded.
“One thing that you can be certain of oh great and powerful Omach,” the Ozure said laughing. “There are not enough birds in the whole of Midworld to carry you to safety. Oh but wait, do you think I am going to throw you on that beautiful fire. Is it your burning flesh you think I want to see, your screams of pain I want to hear echo through the deadwood grove?”
“I think not…” the Ozure went into his hut. “I think not!”
The Omach sat there feeling his fingers beginning to come back to life as well as his toes. He knew it was only a matter of time that he would be able to get up and walk away. He knew though that there was still the Ozure and the bleeding heart of Tabeuiboo keeping him there. It was something that was placed before him long ago that was never finished…
“Omach…” it was Zair speaking his name softly from a nearby bush, “Omach, are you alright?”
“I am fine my little friend.” The Omach smiled at the sight of Zair… “And so very happy to see you alive.”
“Where did the Ozure go?” Zair asked and hopped closer.
The Omach motioned with his head; “He went inside his hut. Can you perhaps peek in a window and see what he is doing?”
“I will,” Zair said and flew around the side where he could look in. He returned quickly and continued in a whisper. “He is sleeping. How could he be sleeping?”
“Do not worry about that my friend,” the Omach smiled. “You need to come closer so that I might tell you what has to happen.”
Zair hopped onto the Omach’s chest and looked at him smiling with his eyes. “We saved the chair Omach. You were right, we could work together and do it.”
“You did just as I knew you could. You and your friends were the bravest of all the creatures I have ever known.”
“But,” Zair looked away for a moment feeling ashamed and then back into the Omach’s eyes. “We lost an arm and a leg.”
“And one of your comrades…” The Omach nodded his head; “I think your loss was greater. When this is all over there will be a time to mourn and a time to celebrate. But first there is even a greater and more dangerous task at hand.
“Somewhere nearby there is a bright red rock that is shaped like no other with nothing growing near it. It will seem to
The One Armed, Three Legged Chair Page 6
