Roci and the skycat
by Carolyn Wada
Copyright CarolynWada 2009
* * *
Roci and the skycat
DEEP BROWN EYES LOOKED INTO DEEP GREY ONES
The electric fence was banded thickly, on the inside, with a ring of tall grass. The cat sat motionless in the grass in a ring of his own making, one large paw crossed over the other, hind feet tucked under. Muscular shoulders and haunches framed a broad back; silky blue-grey hair seemed to mirror the clear, cool morning sky. Two eyes stared unblinkingly ahead from a broad impassive face.
The cat was gazing across a mown field. Human children were darting around about the field, shrieking and laughing. The larger humans were all out of sight.
Most cats were afraid of the compound's humans, and stayed on the other side of the electric fence. The guardian humans were protective of the compound's food, and would kick and chase any animals they saw around their buildings. The cat race had darker collective memories as well. Human children from the compound had been known to capture cats, and then submit them to tortures unthinkable. Sometimes the children were barely bigger than their victims; but they had hands, and fire, and always great anger. The cats learned to stay away.
Any unusually brave and curious cat still had a great physical barrier before it. The fence was painful to touch; no animal ever needed to learn this more than once. Only one branch of one tall tree overhung the fence, and the fall from it was so great one might as well be falling from the sky. And then how would one leave? Curiosity alone could not create such courage.
This cat was not curious. Neither was he brave; for that would suggest the overcoming of fear, and there had been no fear. There had been purpose, and the cat watched for its fulfillment, motionless and impassive.
There was a soft, slight rustling in the grass to the east of the cat. The sound drew closer for many slow heartbeats, and then stopped.
The cat rose to his feet, turned to his right and began to move through the grass. The grass rustled with his passing too, and the boy's eyes were searching in his direction when the cat saw the boy. Deep brown eyes looked into deep grey ones. The cat sat belly down upon the ground, and waited.
Slowly, the boy turned through the grass and dropped onto his own belly, one hand folded over the other on the ground. He maintained this pose and his gaze for seconds; the cat held his own. Then slowly, but without hesitation, the boy stretched one arm out towards the cat. The tip of the boy's finger met and began to stroke the second toe on the cat's right paw. The boy's hand was the same size as the paw. The cat did not move.
Hello, said the boy softly.
Hello, said the cat.
* * *
HE WAS NOT SURPRISED BY THE WONDER
Roci did not know how old he was. He knew about the same number of children were bigger than him as were smaller than him. He'd been told he was too big to cry, was big enough to help clean, but not big enough to mow the lawn.
Roci wasn't sure how he felt about growing bigger. He really did want to mow the lawn, but he knew that soon after he grew that big, a guard would come to take him from the compound.
Roci had heard different things about this future. Most of it he had heard from Niti, always in a high, piercing hurried voice; always when she was frustrated with him. The guards will whip you every day if you act so dumb; they will beat you very bad if you don't do what you are told. This future didn't sound much different than the present, but Roci also knew he'd have to work each day for all of the day; and he didn't feel ready for that, yet.
Roci thought he liked his life right now just fine. He liked his small cleaning jobs: especially the windows. He would climb up and down the little ladder and push it around, and squirt the cleaner all over the glass, and then look for the patterns in the streaks before carefully wiping them off. In the beginning he would get into trouble for using too much cleaner, or staring too long at the streaks, or leaving a few at the top or the bottom or in the corners of the glass. But he'd done it right every time for a long time, now.
After cleaning the glass, he would always go out into the thick grass, to think. He would sit in the grass with his legs crossed, and make up stories about the world he'd seen in his streaks. It was a wispy white world with sharp peaks and cliffs, falling water; and unseen creatures living mysterious lives in its midst.
Roci liked to play with the other children. He liked to run and yell and help make up games. But the grass was; the grass was like his portal to endless other worlds. He'd found so much just pushing through that grass, at different points and at different times. He was never surprised to find a wonderful surprise on the other side of the tall blades.
So Roci had been surprised to find the beautiful, big cat in the grass; he had been awed by the wonder of it; but he was not surprised by the wonder. Roci stroked the cat's big soft toe, switching his gaze between it and the compelling deep grey eyes in the broad blue-grey face. The cat turned its paw slowly over. Roci tapped the black pads on the underside of the paw.
Did you climb over the fence? he said to the cat. No, said the cat.
How did you get here? The cat looked upwards, as did Roci.
Did you come from the sky? The cat merely gazed at Roci, who decided it had come from the sky indeed. It was what Roci wanted to believe, as well.
Tell me a story about the sky. Please?
* * *
THEY DID NOT FALL AS RAIN FELL, OR AS STARS FELL
The skycat sat high above and overlooking the world. The skycat was broad; the branch holding him in the sky was broader. The branch was old; the skycat was older. Little Brother, round and luminous, was climbing in the sky; the branch and the skycat were higher.
Thin columns of wispy smoke rose out of a hollow, near the far reaches of the skycat's view. Small round houses were clustered closely in the hollow, yellow light shining softly from their windows.
Little Brother-persistent, reliable, and unhurried-climbed towards the skycat and the branch. He climbed over, and sat for a while beside the skycat. Then he moved on, upwards, his pale light reaching softly out into the world below.
The small lights seemed to fall from Little Brother, as he reached and passed the top of the sky. They did not fall as rain fell, or as stars fell, but consciously and purposefully like a supremely patient bird of prey.
The many white lights and the few red ones descended together in formation, confident and capable. The skycat watched. The small lights fell lower, and the broad light from Little Brother struck the space between the lights. The light was reflected back, and the skycat saw the massive body between the lights. The body shone too, but very coldly. A shiver ran down the back and the limbs of the skycat, but otherwise he did not move.
The body with the lights descended down to the ground, coming softly to rest in the field below the skycat. For a while the body just sat and purred quietly to itself. The purr rose to a soft whine then quickly died off into silence. The small lights blinked out, and others, as big as Little Brother but more white, lit up and sent broad bands of light into the sky and onto the ground.
At the base of the body, a mouth opened. A ridged jaw lowered slowly until it touched the ground. The skypeople descended on the ridges of the jaw. They were longer-limbed than the Cory-people who dwelt in the round houses in the hollow. They moved with a sway and a saunter. They wore more coverings: more pieces and more colors, covering more of their bodies. The skycat saw both males and females.
The skypeople turned slowly around upon the ground. They saw the mountains to the west, and gazed for a while at their grandeur. But when the first skyperson saw the smoke rising thinly and straight into the sky, to the east, she exclaimed
and pointed. All of the others turned swiftly around. Hands were waved, voices raised in excitement. A tall male skyperson ran swiftly back up the jaw.
Another mouth opened, in the side of the cold-shining body. A smooth jaw lowered slowly until it touched the ground. A small cold-shining body glided down the smooth jaw; the small body had a purr of its own which grew louder when it was still. It was still while the skypeople entered it from many openings; and then it was in motion, towards the smoke and the hollow.
* * *
A BEAUTIFUL GAME?
Roci was turning the ball over and over again in his hands. Occasionally, he would run an index finger over the red ridge on the surface of the ball; following it across the ball, looping back around with it, and following it to the other hemisphere then looping back again. This ball was white, with only a few grey smudges on it. In the grass to Roci's left was a small pyramid of balls, in differing shades of brown.
The brynzian kids yell happy when one of them hits the ball over the fence, said Roci.
The cat looked out towards the field beyond the fence. The Borrynzian children were spread out across the field. Most of them had their backs to the fence, and the nearest was still some distance away from it.
Roci and the cat watched their pageant of sound and dance. For some time most of the figures would be mostly still and mostly silent. Sometimes an individual figure would sway back and forth; sometimes a single shout would pierce the air. Then there would be a loud crack! and the figures would break into motion: one or some moving with the ball; others flowing towards set points on the field. Speech noise would accompany the action through its resolution, and then fade out slowly as the figures reset.
There was a crack! and the cat saw the ball shooting like a star right at them. Roci began to scoot frantically backwards, pushing with his heels against the ground. Roci pushed himself out from the grass, the grass sprang back in front of him; but it was too late. The Borrynzian boy who had been chasing the ball shot a suspicious glance at where Roci had been. As the boy was running back across his field, Roci and the cat heard the words in his shout:
"Creepy slave is watching us again."
The cat turned around and pushed his head through the grass. Roci was sitting still, in hesitation. But then a resolute look overtook his face, and he got on his hands and knees and crawled back into the grass. He seated himself in his original spot, hugging his knees tightly. Roci and the cat watched the play. Occasionally the Borrynzian boy would turn around and glare at Roci, and Roci would stare expressionlessly back.
Roci left the grass when the children's dinner horn blew, and ran across the compound's field to the barracks. The cat continued to gaze across the outside field, occasionally shifting his feet and his pose, which gradually compacted as the chill came down.
The cat's right ear twitched backward when the guard entered the compound. He turned around, and watched the guard stride with violent quickness across the field. The guard entered the barracks. The cat heard only his own heart for a few beats, and then suddenly shrieks and wails and angry shouts erupting from the building.
The guard left the building as violently as he had come. A few beats later Roci burst from the barracks, and began to run towards where the cat was in the grass. Roci found and kicked his little pyramid of balls, then began to pick up balls one by one or two by two and fling them angrily into the fence.
The cat backed up a little ways and stayed back until the throwing stopped; but then Roci sat heavily down and the cat rushed towards him and climbed with two paws onto Roci's leg. Roci wrapped his arms tightly around the cat and whispered his ordeal into its ear: being tied up, and the hard ball smacking into his arm and leg, and not being able to do anything about it. Roci kept repeating the part about not being able to do anything about it. The cat let Roci repeat himself, and hug him too tightly, and rock him back and forth and wet his fur with his tears.
I don't like that game anymore, said Roci. It's a really stupid game.
The cat was silent for a few moments before answering.
Don't let the ugly block out the beauty, he said.
He looked up at the overcast, darkened sky.
Do you think the stars are still there? he asked.
Yes, said Roci.
Do you think they're still beautiful?
Yes.
When ugly tries to cover the beauty, you have to try to remember the beauty's still there. Then the ugly will never cover over your heart.
The cat said, I will tell you a story about the skypeople, the game and the stars.
* * *
THIS TIME IT WOULD LAST FOREVER
The skypeople had time and space; they owned these and controlled them. No fence held back their determination; no horn told them when to stop and then start. They were free.
Their sky home was for the most part a place of color and light. Dark blue, then translucent grey; then light blue deepening throughout the day; then fierce fire colors-yellow, red and orange-streaming from the hearth of the sky; then purple and grey before deepening blue; and a sudden fade to black.
The skypeople owned time and space, and the dark of the night did not constrain them. The skypeople had many small lights in their keep; they would affix these to the purring, cold-shining bodies in which they moved together through the sky. The skypeople's lights were small and steady, bright and pointed; while down below the lights of the Corypeople swelled big and glowed soft, and waved in a constant capricious dance.
A young skyperson held a small light in his hand. He was young and had great energy; and he was free. No force made him stop what he was doing when the dark came down. He could sit upon his cloud and think of new things to do; and then he could do his thoughts.
The young skyperson suddenly stood up upon his cloud. He had thought of a new thing to do.
When the skypeople needed great light at night, light to fill the sky, they used their thundersticks. They would strike the sticks together, and a blade of light would slice through the sky. Bright white light would explode from this spark, throwing every house and tree and curve and angle of Cory into sharp relief.
The young skyperson found a single thunderstick. He was going to make light, and it was going to fill the sky, but this time it would last forever.
The young skyperson tossed the small light from his hand up into the air. The small light fell back down; the skyperson caught it and tossed it upwards again. Again and again he tossed the small light. After the last toss, he did not catch the light again. Instead, as the light was dropping back down towards the cloud, the skyperson grasped the thunderstick one hand below another. He brought the thunderstick around in a smooth fast arc from behind to level with to before and below his shoulders.
The stick struck the star, and it skipped in short hops across the sky, and stayed where it stopped. The skyperson struck another light, this time swinging his stick in an up-tilting plane. The star cut a beautiful arc through the night sky, coming to rest far beyond the first.
The Corypeople looked up and saw the game. At first they watched its beauty in breathless silence.
The skyperson tossed and swung again and again, skipping and shooting stars across the sky, spraying them from different angles until the entire grid was saturated with points of light. In one series he landed three stars close to one another in a row. The Corypeople clapped and called out in amazement.
The skyperson was moved by the cheers. He sprang from the cloud with his thunderstick and his bottomless pouch of lights. He would bring them the beautiful game. He would bring them joy and joy in their praise. They would share in mutual delight.
* * *
YOU KNOW ABOUT THE STARS; HERE'S HOW BASEBALL REALLY CAME TO CORY
"This is such an honor," said jacoby. "Such an honor."
Big Jake did not respond. He was gazing at the screen on his computer notebook. Occasionally, a wistful expression would c
ross his face, evidently triggered by something on his screen.
Jake and jake in the Afternoon was a popular Urtthrian sports talk show. Jake, jake (called by his full given name in written works, for differentiation) and their production team were holding an important meeting, in preparation for the great honor.
"Play it again," said jacoby to his producer. "I want to hear it again."
"What are you doing?" he demanded of big Jake, who still had not responded or looked up.
jacoby remotely turned up the sound on Jake's computer. The soundtrack to American Football Classics swelled through the room. jacoby affected an exasperated groan.
"It's so sad," said Jake. "So sad."
"It is," said jacoby. "I miss it too. But that's in the past. We have a chance to be part of the future here-the future; and you're missing it."
Jake swung his head around and back, as if following a particularly stunning automobile that had just passed his.