martinsmithstories

Image by cromaconceptovisual from Pixabay

Cheetah cursed the inked darkness as he slowed to a walk and inched his way forward. He paused and pricked his ears and sniffed with a raised snout. ‘Oh God!’ he said. ‘I’m lost.’

A beating of wings greeted his lament.

‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Who’s there? That you, Falc?’

‘No,’ a voice said. ‘It’s me. Owl.’

‘I say, you couldn’t tell me which way’s west?’

‘It’s a little to your left.’

‘Thanks.’ And Cheetah edged forward in the darkness.

On and on Cheetah crept towards what he thought was west, hoping for a glimmer of twilight. He bumped into trees and cursed, tripped on logs and swore, and stubbed his toes on rocks and cussed. He paused and heard rustling.

‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Who’s there?’

‘It’s me. Owl.’

‘What? Again? Why are you following me?’

‘I am not following you. I have not moved since you asked me for directions. Perched up here, I watched you complete a huge circle.’

‘What? You mean to tell me I’ve wasted an entire hour?’

‘More like two.’

‘Right! Am I facing west?’

‘A little to the right.’

‘My right or your right?’

‘Yours.’

‘Now?’

‘A little further.’

‘Now?’

‘Just a tad more.’

‘Now?’

‘Perfect. Good luck.’

On and on Cheetah crept, confident a glimmer would reappear ahead. Again he bumped into trees and cursed. Again he tripped on logs and swore. Again he stubbed his toes on rocks and cussed. He grew weary and footsore and stopped to rest. He pricked his ears. Silence. An eerie silence. An eerie, feels-like-I’m-being-watched silence.

‘Hello? Is … is … is anyone there?’

‘Me. Again.’

‘Oh, ha-ha. You’re a real hoot.’ And Cheetah stormed off into the pitch darkness.

***

Sailfish leapt from the inked sea and looked westward and saw twilight’s last blue salute. ‘No!’ he said. ‘I’m falling behind.’ He plunged into the cold, black water and swished his tail fin with all his might. The water warmed and the current quickened. ‘The Gulf Stream!’ Sailfish said, and he surged forward with renewed resolve. On and on he swam. He leapt from the ocean and saw a violet horizon. On and on he swam. He leapt from the ocean and saw a pink horizon. ‘Oh God! I’m catching up.’ On and on Sailfish swam. Another leap revealed a yellow horizon. ‘I’m going to win. I’m going to win.’ And with his enormous dorsal fin scything the surface, he streaked through the now translucent water.

Ahead, a large school of mackerel swam with languid insouciance. ‘Hmm, I am a tad peckish,’ Sailfish said. ‘Nothing like takeaway when travelling on the road.’ And he opened his mouth and snapped and caught his dinner.

A piercing pain bit the side of Sailfish’s mouth, and he came to an abrupt halt as a taut line pressed against the length of his body. ‘Snagged!’ he said. He writhed and thrashed, but the hook bit deeper, and the line dragged him around. Hard the line pulled; harder Sailfish tried to break free, but the line dragged him away from the horizon. He leapt above the surface and cast a beady eye back and saw a pink horizon. ‘No!’ he said. The line pulled and pulled and dragged him eastward. A second leap revealed a violet horizon; a third, blue. ‘No! Defeat snatched from the jaws of a glorious victory!’

The floodlights of a fishing boat bobbed in the distance before Sailfish, and he resolved to free himself and return to the great race. Down, down he plunged, deep to the dark recesses of the ocean floor. The line tugged and the hook gripped. He paused, gathered his strength, and with a mighty thrust of his tail fin, he surged upwards. Up, up Sailfish rose, towards the murky shallows. Through the sea surface Sailfish burst and up, up into the dark sky. He flicked his long bill to the left. The line tugged and the hook gripped. He flicked his long bill to the right. Still the line tugged and the hook gripped. But with one last mighty flick, the line snapped, and Sailfish flew free through the darkness.

***

Peregrine Falcon surveyed the pink horizon before him. From the skies he’d seen Snail stall at the starting line and Badger bury himself in a hole and Tortoise plod forward. He’d passed Cheetah as he streaked across the shadowed savannah, leaving a trail of dust. He’d flown over Sailfish and watched the giant fish glide through the dark sea and leave a bubbling phosphorescence in his wake.

Peregrine Falcon permitted himself a wing pump. He’d left his friends far, far behind. The race was his to lose.

He quickened the beating of his wings and advanced towards the horizon. A horizon now yellow. On and on he flew, and the horizon turned orange. ‘I’m almost there,’ he said. Harder he beat his wings and quicker he flew, and the horizon’s hue reddened. ‘Almost there. Another ten minutes and I’ll be the winner. Ha! Never bet against the red-hot favourite, I say!’

A headwind rose and stiffened in his face.

***

On and on Cheetah crept until he heard wailing in the dark before him.

‘Who’s that?’ Cheetah said. ‘Not you again, Owl?’

‘No. It’s … <sob> … me.’

‘Tortoise?’

‘Y … <sob> … yes.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’m a loser … <sob> … a big, fat, slowcoach loser.’

‘The race isn’t over yet.’

‘For me it is … <sob> … I’ve been plodding along for hours and hours, and I’ve barely left the starting line … <sob>.’

‘What? The starting line?’

Cheetah cursed that obtuse Owl and its appalling sense of direction. To run half the night, to trip and bump and stub all that time, only to find himself almost back at the starting line. To allow the others to lead by miles and miles. And to let that cocky, dimwitted falcon beat him. By God, he’d never hear the end of it.

‘Look, Torts, I’d love to sit and chat, but I need to push on. Can you give me a heads-up on which way’s west?’

‘But … but … don’t you see? I was a giant in the world of competitive road racing. A heavyweight of renown. Indeed, I was the most famous undefeated heavyweight champion of the world. And now they’ll say I fluked my first win. That I didn’t win; rather, Hare lost. Oh God! … <sob> …Please, don’t leave me. I don’t know what I might do … <sob> … <sob>.’

‘There, there. I’m here for you, Torts. Remember: it’s only a race. One you were unlikely to win.’

‘Oh God! … <sob> … I’m such an also-ran … such a loser. … <sob> … All that slow and steady wins the day crap is just bullshit. … <sob> … What kind of fool lives their life by abiding to asinine adages? … <sob> … <sob>.’

‘Come on, old chap, where’s that stiff upper lip of yours? Give us a grin. Not that I’d see it.’

‘Oh God! … <sob> … I can’t. I’ve no teeth … <sob> … <sob>.’

‘There are worse things in life than losing a silly little race. Like losing a father’s respect.’

‘Oh God! … <sob> … I never actually knew my father … <sob> … <sob>.’

‘Or a mother’s love.’

‘Oh God! … <sob> … Mother! … <sob> … <sob> … She who abandoned me before I hatched … <sob> … <sob>.’

‘OK. OK. Let’s forget the past. Let’s look to your future. A future filled with love, laughter and little hatchlings.’

‘Oh God! … <sob> … Who’s going to love me with a head like mine? … <sob> … <sob>.’

‘Looks aren’t everything. Intelligence holds as much sway these days.’

‘Oh God! … <sob> … I’ve a pea-sized brain inside my pinhead. I’m just an airhead … <sob> … <sob>.’

‘At least you own the home on your back. Girls love a bit of security when settling down.’

‘Oh God! … <sob> … I’m leasing it … <sob> … <sob>.’

‘Well, Torts, I’m afraid you’re a lost cause. And given the leads of Sailfish and Falcon, I’d say I am, too. How about we head back to the beach? Pick up a slab of beer on the way? Nothing like an icy lager to cure the beaten blues.’

‘O … O … OK.’ Tortoise sniffled and then blew his nose, releasing a blare into the black night air.

‘Say, Tortoise,’ Cheetah said as the two headed off in the dark, ‘tell us about your childhood.’

‘Oh God! Waahhh-haaa-ha … waahhh-haaa-ha …’

Their race run, Cheetah and Tortoise walked on and on until a squelch greeted one of Tortoise’s despondent steps.

‘Ouch!’ a voice said.

‘Who’s that?’ Cheetah said.

‘It’s me. Peregrine Falcon. For goodness’ sake, Tortoise, lift your foot. You’re crushing my chest.’

‘Sorry.’

‘What the hell are you doing down there?’ Cheetah said.

‘I fell from the sky,’ Peregrine Falcon said. ‘I remember speeding towards a red twilight and the sun threatening to reappear above the western horizon. A breeze picked up and stiffened to a gale, then a raging storm and finally a full-force hurricane. One of those Beaufort 12 jobs. All my feathers blew off, and being plucked and fucked, I tumbled and tumbled, and as I plummeted, I think I blacked out. I must be blind now. I’m buggered if I can see a thing.’

‘You’re not the only one. This is the darkest night of my life. And don’t get me started on the blackness of Torts’ mood.’

‘How’re you travelling, Tortoise?’

‘Oh God! Waahhh-haaa-ha … Waahhh-haaa-ha …’

A thud clunked in the night air.

‘Ouch!’ Peregrine Falcon said. ‘Hey, who kicked me in the shin?’

‘Me,’ Cheetah said. ‘For goodness’ sake, go easy on Torts.’

‘OK. OK. Sorry. Well, it looks like Sailfish will win. I can’t see Badger putting up much of a fight. If I know him, he’s got his head buried in the sand. Never did like competition much, old Badge.’

‘I heard that,’ a voice said.

‘Badge? What the hell are you doing here? And what in God’s name is that awful stench?’

‘I miscalculated my dig. I hit a sewage pipe and lost my angle of depression.’

‘Shit happens, hey?’ Cheetah said.

‘Boom-boom, Cheet. I resurfaced five minutes ago. Geez, I could really go a Budweiser. That digging sure is thirsty business.’

‘Well, Badge, join the party. Tortoise and I are heading back to the beach, and I’m sure Falcon, given he’s a pheasant plucked and grounded, won’t say no.’

‘Given my race is run and lost, then, yes, I won’t say no.’

And the quartet headed off in the dark, Cheetah leading and Tortoise bringing up the rear.

Cheetah stopped. ‘Shhh. What’s that noise?’ he said.

‘What noise?’ Badger said.

‘That whistling noise.’

‘What whistling noise?’ Peregrine Falcon said.

‘It’s not you, Torts, is it? Feeling a tad chipper?’

‘No … <sob> … <sob> … no.’

‘Then where’s it coming from? It’s getting louder. If you ask me, it smells and sounds fishy.’

‘I can hear it now,’ Badger said.

‘Me, too,’ Peregrine Falcon said.

‘It’s coming from over there.’

‘Where?’ Cheetah said.

‘Th—’ But Badger did not finish as a flying sailfish landed on Badger and his unfortunate companions, knocking all, including the fish, out.

***

Cheetah opened his eyes and blinked as he tried to focus. He raised his head and saw a tawny twilight upon the eastern horizon.

‘Falc. Sails. Badge. Torts,’ he said, and he shook and stirred his four friends. ‘But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill.’

‘What the fuck are you on about?’ Peregrine Falcon said, rubbing his head.

‘You don’t read much Shakespeare, do you, Falc? You probably spend your leisure hours skimming the articles in Playtiercel and leering at the stapled bird in the centrefold.’

‘I do not! I’ll have you know that there are some very interesting and informative articles in that publication.’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘So what’s this russy thing you’re going on about?’

‘Morning twilight, you illiterate fool,’ Cheetah said, pointing to the east.

‘So?’

‘You’re not the brightest bird in the birdbath, are you, Falc? Morning twilight. Dawn’s first light. Break of day.’

‘So?’

‘OK, Falc. I’ll spell this out real slow for you. The … sun … is … rising.’

‘The sun!’ Sailfish said, and he floundered about with beady-eyed panic, willing his body to advance towards the greying east.

‘The sun!’ Badger said, and he dug his claws in and set forth with a waddle.

‘The sun!’ Tortoise said, and he broke into a plod.

‘The sun?’ Peregrine Falcon said. ‘Oh, I get it. The sun! It’s rising!’ And he hopped forward with renewed yet featherless resolve.

‘Suffer, you landlocked losers,’ Cheetah said. ‘Victory is mine. All mine.’ And he took off in pursuit of his prize.

He passed Sailfish, but the big fish swished his long bill and opened his jaws and bit down on Cheetah’s tail. The cat dragged the fish past Tortoise, but he stretched his long neck and snapped his beak down on Sailfish’s tail fin. The cat dragged the fish and the tortoise past Badger, but he reached out and wrapped his claws around Tortoise’s stumpy tail. The cat dragged the fish and the tortoise and the badger past Peregrine Falcon, but he hopped upon Badger’s back and gripped his talons into the furred pelt.

‘Get off me!’ Cheetah said, but his opponents tightened their grips.

On and on Cheetah staggered eastward, dragging the others towards the lightening horizon.

‘At least I am in the lead,’ he said to himself. ‘It will be my face that the sun’s first ray kisses.’

On and on the five advanced, as a head-bent, teeth-gritting Cheetah strained and panted in his exertion, yet the flushed-faced others kept their perilous grips. On and on the five advanced. And the sky in the east blued. On and on the five advanced. And the sky in the east yellowed. A fierce, glaring, sun-about-to-appear yellow. And Cheetah raised his head and presented his face to capture the first ray and his victory and … and … and saw Snail! Sitting atop the icebox with his head raised and his eyes closed and his face aglow with the first golden ray that Helios and his chariot had dragged into the new day.

‘Noooooooo!’ Cheetah said as he ground to a halt before the icebox. The four behind him piled up, and after much cursing and groaning, they separated and rose as one and stared at Snail in disbelief.

‘I won! I won!’ Snail said. ‘I’m the fastest. I’m the fastest. The fastest of all God’s creatures.’ As his eyes danced atop his upper tentacles, his shell swayed from side to side. He then moonslid along the rim of the icebox, leaving a glittery, silver slime trail in front of him. He looked up into the red, scowling faces of his defeated opponents and said, ‘A word to the wise, lads. When facing one of life’s little challenges, rather than rushing in head first, I find by having a good night’s sleep and waking with a fresh perspective in the morning, the solution will be staring me in the face.’

‘Oh, ha-ha, you slimy, smug little slug,’ Peregrine Falcon said. And he reached down and picked up Snail in his beak and swallowed him whole. ‘Not so speedy now, Gonzales, huh?’