Wabi

I WAS IN GREAT PAIN. An ache had blossomed in the center of my being as soon as Dojihla had exposed me as something other than I had pretended to be. How could I have thought they would accept me as a human? What a fool I am, I thought as I stumbled away from Valley Village.

Stumbled, indeed. Admittedly, another part of my pain was from the big bump on my forehead. I’d gotten that by walking head-on into a large maple tree soon after I stalked out into the darkness. Not only had it spoiled the dignity of my exit (the Kabonk-Ouch! had to have been audible to all those I left behind), but it also reminded me that I no longer had the acute night vision of an owl.

I intended to go straight back to Great-grandmother’s tree, but it was much harder than I expected. I didn’t know where I was. Moon was not showing her face. There was not enough light for me to find my way. What would have once been an easy flight above the trees was now so difficult. My arms and legs became caught in the brush, tangles of berry bushes grabbed at my hair and scratched my face. In my usual stubborn way, I kept pressing onward. But nothing was familiar to me in the darkness beneath the canopy of branches that had been my home territory. On and on I went, my hands held out before me to help me feel my way. It was so different from flying.

I do not know how long I walked. But I do know that gradually yet another feeling came over me. It was something I had never felt before at night. Rather than being wakeful and alert, I was becoming tired. Very tired, indeed. Even though it was the middle of the night, I had to sleep. My human legs refused to carry me any farther. I allowed them to collapse beneath me.

A familiar growl came from the darkness nearby. It was Malsumsis. His large shadow came close, and his wet nose touched my cheek. I had thought I heard something following close to me as I walked through the dark, but I had paid it no heed. I had not been afraid. Quite frankly, there was an edge of anger to my despair. I had half hoped it was some unfriendly being planning to attack me. I was looking forward to such a fight. Any creature thinking I was no more than a weak and foolish human would be surprised.

Instead, it had been my only loyal friend. He had kept pace with me, waiting for the moment when he could give me comfort. He’d been waiting for me in the forest all the time I was in the village. Even though I was not the same Wabi he’d known before, Malsumsis still cared for me.

My vision began to blur. It was almost as if my second eyelids had returned. But that was not it. My eyes grew warmer, moister. I put my hands up and felt the water trickling out of them, down my cheeks onto my chin. Why was I sweating from my eyes? I had not realized that human beings had so much water in them that it came leaking out from so many places. Somehow, though, that moisture coming from my eyes seemed suited to the way I felt. I had never, ever been so sad before.

I squinted my eyes and looked around. The moon had finally risen and her bright light shone through the trees. I could see enough to make out the shape of my great-grandmother on a branch near me. Although I thought I had been lost in the darkness, I had found my way to her tree, which I now realized was rising above me. I had fallen asleep in the circle of stones, right next to that same bed of moss where I’d first stretched out my new fingers.

“Grandmother,” I said. Then I was silent. I did not know what else to say and I could not think of even one question to ask. All I could think of was how sad I felt, how lonely.

Great-grandmother hopped down to me and leaned over to gently nibble my earlobe. Then she began to run her beak through my tangled hair. I closed my eyes, remembering what it was like when I was a little owlet and she had preened my feathers in just this way. It didn’t take away the pain that had settled like a sharp bone in my stomach, but it did make me feel calmer. I lifted up my hand to wipe my face. For some reason, even though the night was cool, that warm sweat was again leaking from my eyes.

I looked at my great-grandmother. I had no idea how old she was, how many winters she had lived through or how many more she would survive. I was certain there could be no one who knew more, no being who had gained more wisdom. I needed wisdom just then.

“But who am I? Am I a human being or an owl or am I an owl pretending to be a human or am I only half a human being who can never be an owl again or . . .”

I stood up and began walking in a circle. Somehow, that felt as normal for me to do as shifting from one foot to the other had felt when I was an owl. I shook my head as I circled. It seemed that whether I was a human or an owl, I still could not stop myself from thinking so much that I became confused. I needed to stop talking and thinking. I needed to do something.

Malsumsis came trotting back into the circle of stones, a fat rabbit held in his jaws. He plopped down on his haunches in front of me, dropped the dead rabbit at my feet, and looked up at me.

Then it came to me what I should do. It was something that had been at the back of my mind for a long time. As an owl, I had been reticent to fly far beyond my own hunting territory. Now, I realized, I felt different. As a human, the thought of doing something that might mean much travel seemed not only easier, but desirable and even necessary to me. More important, it would take me out of this valley. Right now, the thought of remaining so close to the one I loved who rejected me was too painful. I needed to be far away from those I had once thought of as my human beings, those who now feared me as if I was some kind of monster.

“Great-grandmother,” I said. “I know what I must do now. I must go and try to find out what happened to my wolf friend’s people.”