A Fale (1967)

20 05 2008

(The beginning of the end of the story by Razzledorf Rebumpkin)

    A thousand million things have gone reeling through my
mind: of worlds and girls and traffic snarls and thoughts
tremendously exciting. Red and gold the ripples of but one
which I was seeing; black and gray are waves of the other, the
one which I was fleeing. It came to pass on this bleak night
in the house of Hansel and Gretel, in the house of the girl
with salmon feet and bright disordered mettle, with diamonds
and rubies all in her hair, and her flash-lovely eyes in fire.
We came to the place known only to us as the house in the Land
of Ire.

    Now also in this land lived a lovely witch who rode in
the skies with a fox. And one lived in a cave with a donkey
or two and a rooster she kept in a box. Now the donkey, the
rooster, the fox, and she were said to have magical powers to
bring rain to the land, or sea to the skies, or love to the
poor dying flowers, and the flowers in turn would face towards
her and give back her magical powers, with a fragrance so
sweet of lavender peat, and of candlelight scent in the hours.

    Now one day the witch flew away from the home in the
valley of myriad streams to go to the land of a man she had
met who was known as the seer of dreams. She said, “Can you
tell me the time of the day, and all of the worlds we have
seen: the world of the dove, the world of the love, and the
world of the mountains of breen. And what is its color, and
why it’s alive, so peaceful and fertile and clean?” He said
of the time, “It’s much like a rhyme; it comes and it ripples
away,” and he said of the dove, “It’s the same as the love,
and the worlds are together forever. And the mountains of
breen have always been clean, and the color is far velvet
green.” So the witch thanked him much, for his wisdom and
such, and said she must travel again.

    So the seer reached down to the base of his robe and
produced such a beautiful gem. First it flashed red, then it
flashed green, then again it went silver and blue. This jewel
is the night, and this jewel is the day, and it works for one
person but you. And that is the one that you love, who fits
like a glove, and who stares at you as through a mist, and
just counting some that day will become, and soon you’ll be
reached and be kissed. So when you’re in trouble, just reach
for this bauble, and it will turn any night into day, and
likewise, in turn, a day into night, and nothing will know
what to say.” Then the seer reached out and stroked her long
hair and vanished out into the air.

    So the witch followed suit and quick as a hoot she’d
traveled as far as the moon. And the dwarf that was there
said, “Good heavens, my dear, I didn’t expect you so soon.”
But to say more for the dwarf, he was not quite as short as
dwarfs are expected to be; his eyes were a puzzle, and his
hair was quite long, and he repeatedly said, “Do you see?” “Do
I see what?” the witch always said, while on both her hands
flowed her hair. “Why, the table I made,” he’d cry with a
grin, and he’d fling both his hands in the air. Now this
answer wasn’t rightly what the witch had wanted to hear, nor
not at all wrong, nor not at all right, but not exactly just
what she had feared. But nevertheless, he’d stamp both his
feet and he’d laugh in his luminous beard.

    But then that they’d forget, and they’d speak with regret
of their friends who had lived in the clouds, in a white
serene house with a terry lene mouse and a cat named Jebidiah
Benign Hossifatt who wasn’t so bright, but usually right in
the things he would say off the bat. But their friend was a
horse, who was special of course. He was known as a winged
unicorn, with silver white hooves and a long flowing mane, and
a multi-hued pearlescent horn. And they’d lived there for
years, without any tears, until came the time of the war, and
bad flying things, and electrical rings and storms that raged
just out the door. Now one day, you see, they were just
having tea when the window shuttered in with a crash, and the
table went flying and the mouse started crying, and there
instantly followed a flash. And Jebidiah said, “Vile! It’s
the big rubbish pile, who never can find where to land, and
wherever he’ll go, there’s always black snow, and an evil
falls over the land.”

    But now back to the witch who was fit to be stitched, for
she remembered this ever so well. She was flying along with
the fox and the cat, and they’d come from the tropical dell;
and she felt with a start in the pulse of her heart that
something was wrong down below. So she went with a care to
see what was there and soon they flew into dark snow. And it
got darker and darker, and then it got starker and starker,
and suddenly went fully black. And they tumbled around in the
midst of old cans and dry broken-down bubble pipes. And there
were other things there, that were caught in the snare, things
ugly and beastly and mean, like minotaur’s heads and uniformed
feds, and things that should never, never be seen. And in the
midst of it all they continued to fall, until they came down
with a bump. And all three got a lump, they were literally
stumped. They didn’t know where in the world they could be.
It was cold and then hot, and then wet, and then dry, and
they’ll tell you they still couldn’t see.

    But one thing had fared: they knew they weren’t scared.
For the witch had powers to behold, and the powers were fair
in her heart in the air. And she bade the cat and the fox to
come close, for she had decided that enough time had bided to
find out what this thing was they were in. So with courage up
front, and a magical stunt, they began on their terrible hunt.
And the cat started howling, and the fox started yowling, and
the witch began speaking in Latin: “Non illigitimatus
carborundum,” she said. “Everything here has begun in my
head. So spin around, spin around, we’ll finish this plight.
Be gone with your demons and devils of night. Away with your
evil that lies in this place! Straight away to your own land,
and leave not a trace!” So spoke she these words with her
face full aglow, and all of a sudden there was white crystal
snow, so gently falling, but with a sound ever so loud.

    But then it quietly returned to a bright, peaceful cloud,
and off to the right was the sound of a grouse, and off to the
left, was the white serene house. And all of her friends were
there at the door, beckoning and calling for them to come
o’er. “You must stay a month, or a week at the least. And
we’ll celebrate your victory with a magnificent feast.” And
so then it was, the place was abuzz. And friends came from
great far and near. And some of the dishes you simply must
hear. There was eggplant and breadfruit and olives and oil,
and honeydew cakes and rock candy soil; figs and bananas and
litchees and cream and all was so lovely, it seemed like a
dream.

    But then all were gone except the witch and her friends
and the unicorn said, “Now we must make amends. We all have
just been through a terrible strife. And you came just in
time and gave us our life. So a gift we will give that will
be as long as you live that will float in the sky o’er your
land.” Now the witch had sat next to a blue dragon snap, and
the unicorn came and put his head in her lap. “Just follow
the spiral on my horn with your hand, and think in your mind
of your own lovely land” And as soon as she’d done this,
there appeared up above, the most beautiful colors, that were
made out of love. “The violet is for the color you wear. The
indigo’s for the brilliant night air. The blue is the color
to go around your head. The green is the place where you make
your bed. The yellow is the one to fashion your sun. The
orange is the thing to eat and have fun. And my blood is
red,” the unicorn said. And his horn had spread out like a
fan. So the witch said goodbye, with a tear in her eye, and
that’s how the rainbow began.


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