Flametips

The sun was saying farewell to us as the fire we had just set up awoke grumpily. James was lying on the ground breathing life into it, being careful to keep his face somewhat shielded by his hand. The trees around us slowly snuck back into the shadows, they would get caught in the light every once in a while by a wisp of flame more daring than the others from the blaze. My friends and I had been coming out to the wilds once a year since we were old enough to set up a tent and be trusted enough not to set the entire area asunder in charred remains. We had pulled large logs from the nearby fallen trees and set them up in a circle around the campfire, just close enough for warmth and vision.

It was traditional for us to trade stories at our annual meeting. Generally they were awful tales of debauchery, corruption, and immorality. Perhaps this was our way of cleansing ourselves of the human condition we didn’t feel quite right calling ourselves a part of? Who knows, I was half the mind that most of these stories were made up. In our youth, the stories were usually some sort of horror tale, the scariest one we could think up, but as one ages we tend to know that most of them are a pack of lies and don’t let ourselves fall for them.

Already a few anecdotes and fables had been relayed, it was now my turn, but this year something unusual happened. Before I could even get my first word out an unknown person in the circle began speaking.

“I will tell you a story of Earth Mother and Field Mouse.” We all turned, confused, to our new companion. None of us were frightened by his appearance; there was something very soothing about him being a part of our circle. Without asking I knew his name, Mr. Jeam. Perhaps he had different names in different places or situations, but right now I knew that’s who he was.

“Field Mouse was playing in his field enjoying the summer day. He ran to the edge of his field and stood on a large rock. From here he could see far and wide and he would dream of going out into the vastness before him. ‘Oh how I wish I could go far and see great things,’ Field Mouse said aloud. ‘You are a field mouse,’ replied Earth Mother, surprising Field Mouse. ‘You must stay in your field and live your life as a field mouse.’

“Field Mouse did not like this at all. ‘But if I wasn’t a field mouse I could go anywhere I wanted!’ He yelled back at Earth Mother. ‘Perhaps,’ she answered, ‘but you are what you are, and you must be what you are.’ Field Mouse was unhappy with this. ‘But you are Earth Mother,’ he said back, ‘you can change things. Can’t you help me see the world?’ She stared at him a moment and nodded.

“Father Eagle came out of the sky and plucked up Field Mouse, digging his talons into Field Mouse’s sides, and pulled him up into the sky. From here Father Eagle flew Field Mouse farther than he had ever seen before. In Field Mouse’s dying moments he felt true happiness that he had finally seen the world.”

With that Mr. Jeam stood up and walked into the shadows. We all sat pondering his unusual story. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand what he was trying to tell any of us, but I felt touched by the story nonetheless.

-V-