Fabian’s Apple
The story began when our young
adventurer, Fabian, woke up in the forest for the eleventh time. Bemused,
Fabian attacked a stick. It was at this moment that he realized his most
beloved Apple was missing. He phoned his old friend, Stork. They had known
each other for the past three hundred years. Stork was a wild character.
He was enigmatic and sometimes a nuisance.
Stork picked up the phone and assured
Fabian that dogs wallow while cats prance. Fabian was confused and Stork
realized that his plan was a success; he managed to distract Fabian as he
tried to come up with his master plan. He had stolen Fabian’s Apple eleven
days earlier. The deep green of the delectable fruit was just too
irresistible.
Fabian, back to his senses, asked Stork
if he could help him find his Apple. Stork, panicking, invited Fabian
over. In less than a millisecond Fabian grabbed his ferret and embarked on
his journey. Stork, meanwhile, rushed over to the beloved Apple and
momentarily fondled it. He then realized he had only a few milliseconds to
hide the Apple. He had to do it thoughtfully as Fabian would do his utmost
to retrieve his prized possession. Hiding it anywhere in his nest would
have been quite foolish, so he decided to run outside. As he opened the
door, Sir Peacock stared at him with his impish eyes.
“Why, Stork, you seem in a rather
peculiar mood. Where are you off to today? By the way, here’s your mail;
oh my, and what is this? It looks like someone sent you a letter; oh who so
ever would do that?”
“Stop it, Sir Peacock! Give this to
me. I must leave at once.”
“Well, then let me go with you.”
“You have mail to deliver and I’m off on
an important duty.”
“What’s that big bulge in your pants?”
“None of your business. Go finish
delivering your mail!”
“Sir Peacock takes orders from no one!”
Sir Peacock, being the pestering brute
that he was, followed Stork. Knowing that escaping him would be impossible,
Stork went back inside his nest and slammed the door. He then dug out an
escape route three hundred cubits away. Stork decided to move the Apple
from up his pants to his shirt; sure, he thought, it might impress the
girls, but it was too much trouble to deal with.
***
Fabian realized that he had almost
forgotten that it was lunchtime. He couldn’t possibly take upon such an
excursion without having an invigorating meal. He realized he hadn’t
consumed pig in quite a while and decided to take a slight detour to Oink’s
farm.
It had been nine months since the last
time he went to Oink. He and his wife must have had some fresh piglets by
now ready to sell.
“Why, Fabian, my good old human friend,
how good it is to see you.”
“As is with you.”
“How may I help my young lad today?”
“Do you have any fresh children?”
“Ah…well my freshest are a week old.
They should be delicious as they are now ripe and plump.”
“All right then. I think I’ll take
one.”
Oink went to the pen and took out a
piglet by its tail and put it in a plastic bag.
“Here you go. I added some dog biscuits
as an extra.”
“Thanks.”
Fabian left the store and went back onto
the trail.
As Fabian rode on his ferret, he munched
on the scrumptious, fatty flesh…uncooked mind you. But he knew that he had
to keep his mind fixated on his original purpose. He soon arrived at
Stork’s nest. Sir Peacock was still waiting, or actually sleeping at the
entrance. Fabian nudged him over and knocked at the door.
“Stork, it’s Fabian! Come welcome your
dear friend.”
There of course was no answer. So he
knocked again.
“Oh, Stork, my little friend.”
Nothing.
“Hey, you fruity toot, wake up,” Fabian
said as he poked Sir Peacock with a stick.
“Ow...,” Sir Peacock moaned
unconvincingly, still seemingly asleep.
Fabian continued poking. This reminded
him of his childhood shenanigans when he used to stick pine needles onto
chairs. Oh how mad the mistress would get!
“Hey! Ssh-top that!” Sir Peacock
squealed with laughter.
“Good. You’ve awakened out of your
trance.”
“I’m assuming you want to meet Stork.
Well he locked himself up inside.”
“Hmm…that’s quite odd.”
“Odd like a triangle it is. That
three-sided, two-dimensional swine.”
“Did he give any indication as to why?”
“He almost ran into me as he opened the
door. Says he had some urgent duty, whatever that means.”
“Drat! Why didn’t he mention that to me
when I called him a few minutes ago?”
***
Raised by moles, Stork wasn’t used to
perching atop the telephone pole. In fact he had left his migratory crew
over four centuries earlier after getting into a brawl with Storc, the elder
of the flock. They got into a lengthy argument about the route.
“Storc, are you sure we’re going the
right way? I mean everything is getting colder and…”
“I already showed you the map, what more
do you want?” Storc sternly replied. “The map says north is this way. The
Ancients paved the way over fifteen-thousand years ago.”
“I think your eyes
…and your sense…
are failing you in your tender age.”
“How dare you insult me? I will have
none of this.”
“But my compass doesn’t lie! The map is
outdated. Magnetic poles shift from time to time.”
“I will not tolerate such non-sense. If
you think you can outwit me go to your “true” north and stay out of my path
before I have your feathers plucked out and have you tarred in skin.”
And they parted their ways. No one was
willing to side with Stork, not because they thought he was foolish, but
mostly because they were too afraid, or perhaps they felt incapable of
defying their leader. But in the end Stork was right for it was only a
hundred years ago that scavengers uncovered a pack of frozen birds deep in
the cold arctic sea. He would never forget the newspaper picture of Storc’s
menacing face that was forever encapsulated in the block of ice.
Stork had laid the Apple above a few
clumped twigs, assuring himself that Fabian’s eyes would never find their
way there. He looked around and there was not a living thing in sight. He
opened his beak, coughed out his letter, and noticed that there was no
return address. Using his beak as a razor, he proceeded to slit the
envelope open and he pulled out the enclosed moist paper.
***
Sir Peacock proudly stuck out his behind
at Fabian.
“So you dazzled the Jays with your
rear-end, just like that? How ingenious,” Fabian said as he glanced over
Sir Peacock.
“Yes, my plumage was useful. I struck
those Jays’ hearts before, well, I
actually struck their hearts with
my mighty spear.”
“And you were the commanding officer?
That’s quite impressive.”
“Yes, I got rid of those Jays like they
got rid of those Dodos. Lost a few good cocks back then – valiant soldiers,
worthy of great honor. By the way, what business do you have with Stork?”
“Did you give Stork his mail before he
went back inside?”
“Yes, and without so much as a thanks.”
“Well, then he probably read it by now.”
“Read what?”
“Oh…nothing… It’s just quite a shame if
I don’t get my Apple back soon, I will no doubt be hospitalized.”
“Well of course, you humans need your
Apples. There was that saying …oh yes, what was it? An Apple a day keeps
the doctor away.”
For a moment there was a silence as both
mindlessly sat on the green prickly grass.
“Hey, Sir Peacock.”
“Yes.”
“May I borrow one of your elongated
upper tail coverts?”
“Over my dead body!”
“I’ll give it back to you. I just need
it for one thing.”
“No. Never. You don’t see me going
around and asking you for your hairs.”
“Fine.”
Fabian immediately leaped toward Sir
Peacock and plucked a feather.
“You brute!”
“I’m sorry, but I really need it. It’s
not like you need to have so many; you already have enough to cover your
ass.”
Sir Peacock went on a tirade, cursing
Fabian. Fabian proceeded to ignore him and decided to pick Stork’s lock.
He didn’t believe he was really breaking in; Stork had previously given him
a key, which of course Fabian lost, like his beloved Apple.
After fumbling with the lock for twenty
minutes, it finally unhooked.
The door opened to an array of babies –
multicolored, undelivered boys and girls, all sleeping – but there was no
Stork in sight.
***
Stork couldn’t believe what he saw.
Inscribed on the paper were the following words:
The End