Gauche the Cellist and Other Stories
Page 7
Nighthawk really was an ugly bird.
He had a patchy face as if bits of mud were stuck to it, and a flat beak that opened right up to his ears.
He was terribly shaky on his legs; he couldn't even walk two meters.
The other birds would only have to look at Nighthawk's face, and they would be horrified.
Take Skylark for example, not one of the prettiest birds itself, but it thought itself way above Nighthawk, so if of an evening it should run into Nighthawk, it would close its eyes tight and turn its head away as if it were truly disgusted. And the little talkative birds were always saying awful things about Nighthawk, right in front of his face;
"Hmph. There he goes again. Just look at that, would you. It makes me ashamed to be a bird."
"Yeah, look at that gaping mouth. I bet he's related to some kind of frog."
That sort of thing. But if it were Hawk instead of Nighthawk, just the mention of his name would be enough to make those superficial little birds shake with fright, and the color to drain from their faces, and they would have curled up in a ball and hidden away in the foliage of a tree somewhere. But Nighthawk was no brother to Hawk; he wasn't even a close relative. Nighthawk was actually a brother to the beautiful Kingfisher, and that jewel of all birds, Hummingbird. Hummingbird fed on pollen from the flowers, Kingfisher on fish, and Nighthawk caught and fed on winged insects. And because Nighthawk lacked sharp claws or a sharp beak, not even the weakest of birds were afraid of Nighthawk.
So it's quite strange that he carried the name hawk at all, but one reason was his powerful wings which cut through the wind, and made him look just like a hawk. The other reason was his high pitched cry that sounded very similar to that of a hawk. Of course this used to trouble Hawk terribly, and he was very much against Nighthawk using his name. And that's why every time he saw Nighthawk's face, he would square his shoulders at him, and say, "Hurry up and change your name! Change your name!"
One evening, Hawk came at last to Nighthawk's house.
"Oi! Are you there? Are you going to change your name or not? You really are a shameless bird, aren't you? You know you're nothing like me. For starters, on a clear day, I can fly as far as I want. But you? Unless it's a cloudy day with barely any sun, you don't even come out until it's dark. Now take a good look at my beak and my talons. Right, now compare them to yours."
"Hawk. I can't do it. I didn't give myself my own name. God gave it to me."
"No, that's not right. You might say God gave me my name, but you? Well, you've just borrowed one from me and one from the night. Now give it back."
"Hawk. I can't."
"Yes, you can. I'll tell you a good name. Call yourself Ichizo. Yeah, Ichizo. It's a good name. Now, to change your name, you have to make an announcement. You got me? What that means is, you hang a name plate around your neck that says Ichizo, and then you go 'round to everyone and say, 'From this day forth my name is Ichizo,' and then bow."
"There's no way I can do that."
"Yes, you can. So do it. I'll give you until the morning after next, and if you haven't done it, I'll go straight for you and finish you myself. Remember it, I'll come and get you if you don't. Early in the morning, the day after next, I'm going to call in and see every single bird, and I'll ask 'em whether you came or not. If there's just one bird you didn't visit, that's the end for you."
"But that's just impossible. I'd rather die than have to do that. Just kill me now."
"Well, you have a good think about it after I'm gone. Ichizo is not such a bad name." Hawk spread his wings right out and flew off in the direction of his own nest.
Nighthawk sat still, his eyes closed, thinking.
Why does everyone hate me so? Is it because I look like I have mud on my face, and I've got such a big mouth? But I've never done anything bad my whole life. Didn't I pick up that baby white-eye after it fell out of its nest, and take it back to its parents? And then they grabbed it off me like they were getting it back from a thief. Afterwards they made terrible fun of me. And now,...now this talk of changing my name to Ichizo, and making me wear a name plate around my neck. Why, it's just so painful.
All around it was starting to become dark. Nighthawk flew out from his nest. The clouds shone meanly in the sky, hanging down low. Nighthawk flew around in silence, almost brushing up against the cloud.
He then opened his mouth, straightened his wings, and cut across the sky like an arrow. Dozens of small winged insects, one after the other, flew straight down his throat.
Just when he looked as if he would hit the ground, he quickly rose back up into the air with great agility. The clouds were now gray, and the fire burning on the distant mountain was a vivid red.
When Nighthawk flies at full speed, the sky is split in two. A rhinoceros beetle went down Nighthawk's throat and put up a terrific struggle. Nighthawk quickly swallowed it down, but as he did so, he felt a shudder go down his spine.
The pitch black clouds made for a frightening scene, the only light coming from the red glow of the fire in the east. With a heavy heart, Nighthawk flew once more up into the sky.
Nighthawk swallowed another rhinoceros beetle. This one felt as if it were clawing at the inside of his throat. He forced it down, but suddenly he was overcome by a dreadful feeling inside, and he let out a scream and began to cry. He continued crying as he circled the sky, around and around and around.
Ahhh...every night, all those rhinoceros beetles and insects are killed by me. And now the only one of me, is going to be killed by Hawk. It's so painful. It hurts, it really hurts. I won't eat any more insects and I'll starve myself to death. No, I'll be killed by Hawk before I starve. No, before that happens, I'm going to fly far, far away to a different sky.
The fire was slowly flowing down the mountain side like water, and even the clouds looked as if they were on fire.
Nighthawk flew straight to his younger brother Kingfisher. Beautiful Kingfisher had just woken and had come out to look at the fire far off on the mountain. As he saw Nighthawk come in to land, he said,
"Good evening, brother. Is something wrong?
"No, but I'm about to fly off somewhere far away, so I wanted to visit you before I leave."
"Brother. You can't go. Hummingbird is already living so far away, and I'll be left here all on my own."
"I know, but there's nothing I can do. Please don't say anything more. And one more thing, apart from when you really have to, please don't catch fish just for fun. Alright, good bye."
"Brother. What's wrong? Please, wait just a little longer."
"No, it doesn't matter how long I wait, it won't change anything. Please give my regards to Hummingbird when you see him. Good bye. I won't see you again. Good bye."
Nighthawk cried as he flew back to his home. The short summer night was already drawing to a close.
The green fern leaves swayed gently in the cool air, breathing in the early morning mist. Nighthawk shrieked, keeshi - keeshi - keeshi! After neatly tidying up his nest and carefully combing all of his hair and feathers, he flew out from his home once more.
The fog had lifted and the sun was just starting to rise from the east. Fighting to withstand the blinding light that was enough to make him reel backwards, Nighthawk flew like an arrow, straight towards the sun.
"Oh Great Sun. Oh Great Sun. Please take me to where you are. I don't care if I'm burnt to a cinder. Surely even a bird with an ugly body like mine can give out a little light when it burns. Please take me."
Nighthawk flew on and on, but the sun never got any closer. Rather, it became smaller and distant, finally replying,
"So you are Nighthawk, are you? I see. It must be terribly hard for you. Next time, fly up and ask the stars to help you. You're not a bird of the daytime."
Nighthawk went to bow, but spun out of control, and ended up falling down into a grassy field. Everything became like a dream. His body seemed to be moving way, way up between stars of red and yellow, and then he was being blown for ever and ever
by the wind, and then Hawk came, and he was caught in his clutches.
Something cold landed on his face. Nighthawk opened his eyes. A dewdrop had fallen from the tip of a young pampas plant. It was now well into the night, the stars sparkling across the great expanse of dark-blue sky. Nighthawk flew up into the sky. Tonight the fire on the mountain was crimson red. Nighthawk flew in circles amidst a faint glow from that fire, and the cold starlight. He flew around one more time. Then he flew at top speed, straight toward the beautiful Orion in the western sky, all the while crying out,
"Oh Great star. Oh Great blue and white star of the west. Please take me to where you are. I don't care if I'm burnt to a cinder."
Orion paid no attention to Nighthawk whatsoever, but continued singing its song of bravery. Nighthawk almost broke into tears, and tumbled back down, but finally steadied himself, flying in a circle once more. He then flew straight towards Canis Major in the south, crying out,
"Oh Great star. Oh Great blue star of the south. Please take me to where you are. I don't care if I'm burnt to a cinder."
Canis Major, busily sparkling in the most beautiful blues, purples and yellows, answered,
"Don't be so silly. What in heaven's name are you? A hawk's just a bird, isn't it? It would take you a million, billion, trillion years to fly here with those wings," and turned to face another direction.
Nighthawk lost heart and tumbled back down, but steadied and flew in a circle two more times. He then flew straight towards Great Bear in the north, crying out,
"Oh Great blue star of the north, please take me to where you are."
Great Bear calmly replied,
"Where'd you get such a crazy idea? You need to cool your head down. The best thing for that is to dive into the ocean near an iceberg, but if there's no ocean nearby, diving into a glass of water with some ice in it should do the trick."
Nighthawk lost heart and tumbled back down, but steadied and flew in a circle four more times. Then he tried once more, crying out to Aquila on the far side of the Milky Way that had just risen from the east.
"Oh Great white star of the east, please take me to where you are. I don't care if I'm burnt to a cinder."
"Certainly not! What complete and utter nonsense," replied Aquila, quite haughtily. "To become a star, one needs to have a social status befitting of such an honor. It also takes quite a lot of money."
All the energy drained from Nighthawk and he closed his wings and fell toward earth. But when those feeble legs were mere inches from hitting the ground, Nighthawk re-launched himself into the sky like a firework. He flew to the middle range of the sky and, just like an eagle that is about to attack a bear, his entire body shook and his feathers stood on end.
He then gave an almighty high-pitched shriek, keeshi- keeshi - keeshi - keeshi - keeshi! It sounded exactly like the cry of a hawk. All the birds that were asleep in the fields and the forest, opened their eyes, and shivering all over, looked frightfully up at the star filled sky.
Nighthawk flew straight up into the sky, flying higher and higher and higher. The fire on the mountain was now no bigger than the end of a cigarette. Nighthawk flew higher and higher.
The cold air froze his breath white against his breast. Because of the thin air he had to flap his wings like crazy.
But even so, the size of the stars hadn't changed one little bit. His breathing was like a pair of bellows. The cold and wind-frost cut him like a sword. His wings were completely numb. With tears in his eyes, Nighthawk looked up at the sky one more time. This was it. This was Nighthawk's last. He could no longer tell if he was climbing or falling, whether he was upright, or upside down. But what he felt was an inner peace, and there was no doubt that that large blood-stained beak of his, even though it was bent sideways, had a faint smile on it.
After a short while Nighthawk opened his eyes wide. And he saw that his body was now quietly burning, emitting a beautiful blue light, like a flame of phosphorous. Beside him was Cassiopeia. The pale-blue light of the Milky Way was right behind. And the Nighthawk's star went on burning. It burnt on and on, forever and ever. Even now, it continues to burn.
THE END
Wild Pear – Yamanashi
by Kenji Miyazawa