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rainbowfic2023-09-03 01:10 pm
Asparagus #14 - Eating out
A long, long time ago, before my father was a boy or even his father before him, there was a child known as Idha Pâng, meaning turtle, because, like the turtle basking in the sun, he preferred to be slow and carefree. Pâng was a greedy boy, begging to and his parents and grandparents did not know how to resist his demands, as he would scream and kick when he did not get his way. By the time he was a young man, he was accustomed to a gluttonous and ungrateful lifestyle, taking from the people around him yet never giving anything in return. His hands were neither calloused nor stained with ink nor tanned from long days in the sun, yet he expected to partake in the fruits of his fellows’ labour.
The people of the village grew resentful of Pâng, though they did not voice their anger. When he sat upon Ưmưs carefully organized weaving supplies, she bit back the harsh words forming on her tongue and resigned herself to his mess. When he took a handful of berries from Ael’s basket, she simply smiled and told him he should enjoy them.
One day, she invited him to pick berries with her, her eyes shining bright and clear as glass, though there was something behind them that he could not place. Having nothing to do that day, he agreed and followed her down a winding path that led deep into the forest, deeper than he had ever been before. The thicket grew denser and the trees knit together above his head, casting a dark shadow over the trail. Pâng began to grow nervous, glancing around for any sign of danger or wild animals. Much like I tell you stories of great waves sweeping people out to sea and hungry cave bats that gobble up children that stay up too late, Pâng’s grandfather told him many tales of the savage creatures lurking in the woods. As he looked around at his surroundings, he noticed that there were indeed many berry bushes dotting the path. He cried out in anger, “Why have you taken me so far when there are berries waiting for us here?”
Ael knelt down on a rock and took a clump of round berries between her fingers. “See, these are elderberries, of which we have an abundance back in the village, though you may eat some now to satisfy your hunger.” She held out a handful, which he accepted with a huff.
He shook his head and stalked off down the path, impatient to be done with his task. He soon came across a small glade with many paths shooting out to different parts of the forest. All around were bushes upon bushes of fruit, black and red and deep, dark purple, all ripe for the picking. No longer warded off by the shade of the trees, the sun fell hot and garish over the clearing. Pâng felt a great sense of hunger rise in his stomach as he realized that it was midday.
Ael followed soon behind him, her natural cheer offset by his irritability. She set in front of him a basket small enough to be carried in one hand. “If you would be so kind, could you please fill this basket with berries from the clearing? I will find you before the sun hits the crest of the maple tree.” And she continued down another path to find her own glade in which to harvest berries.
As the shadows of the trees had stretched their way over the clearing, Pâng took his precious time picking. He would kneel in front of a bush for a few minutes before returning to his spot on a sun-warmed rock. By the time the sun had hit the crest of the maple tree, his belly was fuller than his already small basket, though he still yearned for a proper meal cooked by his father or mother. And yet Ael was nowhere to be found. He waited another hour. He picked another handful of elderberries in his boredom. Ael still did not return.
At this point, fear had begun to creep into the back of his mind. Clutching his basket, Idha Pâng walked along the way he remembered seeing his companion go, though he startled at every rustle and creak in the undergrowth. Before long, he came across a strange shape in the road, a lump not much bigger than his fist. Setting down his basket, he leaned down to see, curled upon itself, the form of a toothy squirrel. Perhaps it can lead me to Ael, he thought. It is too difficult to track her.
On Pâng’s approach, the beast looked up at him with glassy eyes and spoke, “Kind traveller, will you help me? I am injured and I cannot find my way home to my family at the mouth of the woods.”
He regarded the squirrel for a moment. Although he had heard many stories about the mischievous nature of the toothy squirrels, this one seemed to be a juvenile, not yet old enough to play the elaborate tricks its kind were known for. In a rare strike of consideration, he took pity on the poor creature and scooped it up into his basket. It is not too out of my way, he reasoned.
“I am also looking for my way home,” he told it, making the decision to abandon his search for Ael and find his own way back to the village. “With any luck, we will make it to your colony back before nightfall.” The prospects of this were becoming bleaker, however, as the forest grew dimmer with every next footstep. Although he continued on for what seemed to be many, many hours until the twilight settled grey-blue around them, Pâng found himself unable to see more than a few paces ahead of him, and with the unfamiliarity of the woods closing in on him, he realized that he was lost. He turned to the toothy squirrel to ask if it had any sense of direction about it, only to see the white scruff around its mouth dyed a stunning shade of indigo while his basket had gone from half-full to fully empty.
When it noticed his gaze, the squirrel flashed its sharp, juice-stained teeth at him and leapt into the nearest tree. “Thank you for the meal, dear traveller. I hope I haven’t put you too out of your way.” In a flash, it disappeared into the leaves.
Pâng stared in shock at the space the squirrel had left behind. “Wait!” he called. “Was this all a ruse?” But the graceful and uninjured movement of the critter left no doubt in his mind. He had been deceived, led down a path of lies to a place in the forest far from home and then abandoned, forsaken to his own presence. He felt he was a fool for allowing the beast to take advantage of his kindness, for giving up his day’s work to an ungrateful reprobate. He had no berries now, and the darkness obscured everything save for a few bushes of elderberry that he used to fashion himself dinner. He had not eaten a full meal since the morning, which his body took as a grave insult, his stomach rumbling with every slogging step he forced himself to take. At least when I get to the village, I will be able to partake in Ael’s bounty, he thought.
And then he thought some more. He had been tasked to gather berries for the village, and yet he would turn up empty-handed. Even with his basket so much smaller than Ael’s, hers was always overflowing while he hardly managed to fill his to the halfway mark. Yet he expected to be welcomed and fed from the hand of another. He must aggrieve them with his constant demands and insubstantial repayment. He was no better than that wicked, rakish squirrel.
Sleep did not come easily to Pâng that night, and not just because of the dangerous animals that were surely lurking all about. He tossed and turned on the makeshift bed of leaves he had constructed for himself, his fitful dreams overrun with images of his face growing fur, contorting into something unrecognizable, and whispers of his parents and friends. It is a good thing he is gone tonight, they said in his mind. Pâng the greedy, Pâng the thankless. By the time the sun peeked through the canopy above him, he knew that he would get no more rest for the night. He had to continue on.
First, however, he stopped to fill his basket with as many fruits as possible — elderberries, blackberries, even dragon’s eye from a tree with rounded, blunt leaves. He picked and he harvested and he gathered until he could not carry any more, the woven handle of his basket digging into his palm with its weight. His breath steadied out, chest moving in time with the soft breeze that filtered through the trees. The scrabble of paws on the forest floor blended together with the musical chirps of birds into a song that danced throughout the woods, each note settling into Pâng and lifting his smile. It was a peaceful activity, made even more so by his newfound introspection. He hardly noticed when a shout sounded from down the path, a chorus of voices calling his name in unison.
“Pâng! Pâng, are you there?” they hollered.
As fast as he could without spilling his yield, he followed the voices to see a handful of his compatriots gathered around Ael in the center of the trail.
She smiled, lips stained a faint shade of purple. “Welcome home.”