This story was written as a birthday present for my mother, who was the main inspiration for Tziki's charachter. Thanks for reading from Alex.
4
Manny the old groundhog was having quite a bad day. Stewart chased him all morning through the Forest and all the way down to the Creek, nearly giving him a heart attack every time he felt his paws stretching forward to grab him, missing by mere centimeters. Even in his younger days Manny wasn’t quite the athlete who would choose to spend his leisure time stretching his paws in running exercises, and now that he was old and weathered all he really wanted was to find a nice patch of grass to lie on, so he could bask in the afternoon sunlight. Apparently Stewart felt differently about this matter.
Manny was panting badly, leaning on the bark of the old Oak tree. He couldn’t figure what was so special about his soft groundhog anatomy that made him particularly mouthwatering for foxes, but he had about enough of it. Holding on to his furry backside that was sore from all this running, a grim realization came to cloud Manny’s mind - the dream of freedom and safety that he had been nursing since the last fall proved to be a hopeless case, because for some unfathomable reason, young and energetic Tziki wasn’t hunting chickens in the village like she was supposed to do. What might have possibly gone wrong? Foxes eat chickens - that was a widely known fact. The knowledge of hunting them was a legacy passing down by generations, and what was happening now was a deeply disturbing abomination of all Forest rules. Manny decided he wasn’t going to let this go. He would pluck his courage and go talk to Tziki in order to understand what was it that prevented her from providing for her parents. That is, if she doesn’t eat him first.
Manny decided to talk Rupert into helping him. That would be no easy task – making a sensible conversation with Rupert was nearly impossible. His mind would wander to anything ranging from a-corns to Forest’s policy on eating hikers, none of which was related to the topic of the conversation. Manny racked his brain intensely over the matter, and after all due consideration he decided he needed Rupert at least as means of transportation, if not intimidation.
After what seemed like a never-ending persuasion, Rupert agreed to take Manny on his back to see Tziki. Manny wasn’t quite sure that Rupert understood what it was that he had to do, and he was a bit afraid that Rupert would take him straight to Stewart instead. After all, for all Rupert knew, there were three foxes in the forest, and they were all the same to him.
To Manny’s genuine amazement, Rupert took him straight to the Meadow – Tziki’s favorite place in the whole Forest. Trudging heavily on the grass, stumping out a population of dandelions as he went, Rupert grunted “Small fox", "By the Willow”. Manny looked in the direction of Rupert’s dull stare and saw Tziki, lying beneath the shadow of a Willow tree, submerged in reading. “Reading?!” Manny nearly choked, “What business does she have reading? She’s supposed to hunt!”
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5 Tziki spotted Manny and his heavy companion straight away. It was really hard not to notice Rupert, whose stumping could be heard all through the Valley even if you were half deaf. She decided to remain silent though, hoping they would leave. Tziki was busy poring over a massive scroll of parchment she attained from the chicken coop. It was an ancient looking, weathered scroll, bearing the red letters “Learn your BocBock-uck”, and getting it from the chickens wasn’t an easy task. After revealing herself to the chickens the other day, great panic rose among the coop dwellers; the chickens spread around the yard squawking hysterically, and the old Rooster came galloping from the bushes in a fit of battle cries, ready to pounce.
Tziki recalled the events of that evening in her mind.
It took nearly all her energy to reason with them and explain that she was not going to eat them, which of course they did not believe, and just kept eyeing her suspiciously. That gave her some time to explain how she came to hunt them, and how she couldn’t help overhearing them speak, and how from that moment on she was enchanted and knew that her only purpose in the world would be to learn their beautiful language and perhaps teach it. Tziki smiled to herself as she remembered how these particular words made some of the chickens faint, and others clap their wings to their beaks in utter disbelief.
"This is madness! You’re a fox! Your people raid our coops, steal our women, and stew our children! I bet this is one of your cheap new tricks designed to take over our lands!” The Rooster, whose name was Gareth, flapped his wings at Tziki, sending small specks of dust flying all around. “Go away before I claw your eyes out, filthy murderer!”
Tziki took no offence at this haughty pronouncement. After all, there was a point to what Gareth was saying – breaking the food hierarchy was not something one would do in an instant.
“I’m not going anywhere. Think of the opportunities! We could build something new here in the Valley, and perhaps even spread it on! We could tour the world and make other foxes and chickens cooperate. Your people will suffer no more, and we could learn so much from you!”
“And who will take our place in your filthy dining habits, some other poor creature?”
“We could eat insects- snakes, and dung beetles, and scorpions!”
“And how could I be sure that one day you won’t get a craving for some poultry? This is madness”
Tziki was starting to get annoyed by this feathered non-believer. She came as close to learning the Chicknease as learning to fly.
“Look here, Rooster. I am a free fox; I can do whatever I want. I don’t care what the big book of Forest rules says; I want to teach your language to little chirping chicks! I don’t want to eat anyone, or hurt anyone or hunt; I want to be a scholar!” Tziki’s eyes welled up with bitter tears of frustration. She never wanted something as badly as this, and she felt that this mean Rooster was taking her dream away.
Gareth was taken slightly aback. There was something about this scrawny fox that confused him.
“Let the Forest Owl decide. She will know what to do.”
***
Grandma Owl was submerged in a sleepy drowsiness, stirring only to shake loose feathers and leaves off her back, but when she saw the strange party approach her home out of the corner of her sleepy amber eye, she nearly jumped out of her feathery coat. After all, a rooster and a fox, strolling side by side, is a truly odd thing to witness.
Grandma Owl was awake in an instant, waiting for the strange pair to come closer.
“Who goes there?” she hooted for formality’s sake, even though she knew very well who was approaching her home in wide strides. She knew Gareth the Rooster since he was a little chick, and Tziki was frequently consulting her in matters of importance. But what brought this pair together, she couldn’t possibly imagine.
“It’s me, Grandma Owl, Tziki. We came to seek your advice.” Gareth was digging nervously into the moist ground with his claws, so she or our heroine decided to take the matters into her own paws.
“And what would be the matter in question?” asked Grandma Owl. She had a fondness for frilly pronouncements and twisting turns of speech, which was what made her advices sound noble and sophisticated, even though she herself thought them to be simple truths that others failed to recognize.
“Grandma Owl, you know how it has been a tradition for us foxes to hunt chickens in the nearby village. For generations now we have been holding on to this wacky routine, fighting each other to death, only to sustain a habit of murderous nature. We could resort to eating insects and other pests instead, rid the Forest of their harmful existence, and keep the chickens alive as well!”
“What are you implying, child?”
“All I’m saying is… it’s just that only this very morning I was about to become a vicious hunter go myself, guided by my parents and a path that was chosen for me by Elder foxes that I did not know, and a set of circumstances I was never a part of.“
“Rules are written for a reason, child. Legacies are dictated by experience, sometimes bitter as a Mandrake Root” Grandma Owl hooted proudly, secretly joyous at the fact of creating a new simile.
“I can’t follow this path, Grandma…the thing is…” Tziki lingered for a while, searching for words that would make her argument sound as reasonable as possible, “I don’t want to hunt chickens but rather learn their language and become a scholar; I want to teach in the High Academy for Chicken Language, if there is such a thing.”
Gareth voiced his shock by swearing loudly in Chicknease.
“Quiet, Rooster!” Grandma Owl bellowed. She was utterly baffled by the outrageous things Tziki was proposing. She faced her again, “And what is to become of Martha and Stewart? Are you aware of the stingy bitterness of betrayal they are about to experience at the hand of their own daughter?”
“I am!” Tziki piped out in a small voice. “…But Grandma...they told me I could be anything. From the day I opened my eyes for the first time and saw the Sun hanging high in the Sky above the tree tops, I knew that this world was bigger than just this Forest, just this Valley. I was taught that I could pursue any dream of mine the way I’d choose, and this is my dream.”
“Midsummer Dream Chicken-O-Grill, I’d call it”, Gareth snorted. “Tell this snotty little rascal that she’s is talking nonsense!” His earlier softness towards Tziki vanished without a trace.
“Silence!” she wailed as Grandma Owl looked deeply into Tziki’s eyes as if to say something important. She stared back at this old, wise bird, waiting for a simple solution to reveal itself, when the Owl clicked her beak thoughtfully and said: “Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.”
And then, without adding another hoot, she took off into the night. A few minutes passed as Tziki and Gareth pondered these words, and then spoke again, smiling gleefully at Gareth.
“So…how does it work? Do I get textbooks? Or will you teach me yourself?”
6
Manny hopped through the tall grass that almost came to cover his nose. He was determined to put some reason into this silly fox’s mind, since he couldn’t simply live under this new regime anymore. As he got closer, he started to think of the things he would say to Tziki. Should he threaten her? No, that wouldn’t work. How could he? He was no hero, and he had nothing to intimidate her with. Should he plead? That wouldn’t work either; she would probably just eat him.
What should he do then?
Manny approached the Willow tree, shifting his weight from one paw to another. He coughed gently to attract her attention, but Tziki seemed to be too deeply submerged into her reading.
“Excuse me…Tziki?
She turned to face him at once, putting away her parchments. Manny swallowed and puffed out his furry chest.
“I came to tell you that…I have to say, it’s really starting to...I don’t want to get eaten!!!” he squealed, bursting into tears.
Tziki’s heart throbbed with pity. She wasn’t all that fond of Manny, and she always thought of him as just an old, lazy groundhog who would go around the forest gathering fresh gossip. This emotional outburst moved her deeply and she rushed to soothe him.
“Ah come on, don’t cry! What happened? Why would anyone eat you? No offence, you look very juicy...”
Manny gave her a look full of hatred.
“Are you b-b-blind??” he sobbed, “Your parents have made me their main target ever since they’d stopped hunting in the village! I was hoping that one day when you’re all grown you would be able to hunt for them, so that I won’t get eaten in my sleep! But all you do is r-r-reaaaaad..” his speech turned into heart-wrenching wails.
“Hey, Manny…Manny…for God’s sake, Manny! Listen to me!” She grabbed his little shoulders and shook him hard. Manny flinched and looked at her. “Nobody gets eaten here. I’m not going to hunt anyone, but that doesn’t mean that you, or anyone else in the forest, should be eaten. It’s going to be fine. We’ll find a way”
“There is no other way. I might as well just put myself on a platter and have Rupert take me to your father”
“You’re wrong just like everybody else. And I will prove it.”
7
The afternoon sun was shedding its warm light upon the Valley. The wind whistled softly through the trees, telling stories about a brave little fox that changed the world around her. The wind told a tale of wonder in a hushed, quiet voice laced with rain-sodden beauty, encountered her parents and fought for her dream; how she introduced the Forest folk to new opportunities and restored the peace in the Valley around her. Martha and Stewart, frustrated at first, became increasingly proud after they’d listened to their daughter and tried a new diet – one that consisted of pests that were harming the forest.
Manny’s life filled with peace. He and Rupert decided to start a transportation business in the Forest, opening the very first Bear Lines that took weary passengers to a desired destination for a fee of berries. Rupert seemed to be happy, although it was hard to tell – his expressions were blank and his stare as dreamy as one of fairies. He did stump around more though, and that was known to be a good sign, of course.
Grandma Owl went into investment, putting a lot of her savings into Manny and Rupert’s business. She was frequently seen in the BearLines’s headquarters, sipping dew and hooting wise words that nobody understood.
As for Tziki, she pursued her dream of learning Chicknease and became a teacher. Together with Gareth (who was quite reluctant and hesitant at first), she opened a school in the Forest, where generations of young chicks would study grammar and pronunciation, eloquence and phonetics. The school was a place of games combined with hard work, lectures and field trips, where anyone could be the chick he wanted to be. The most important lesson taught in Miss Tziki’s class (and that was how Tziki was called now) was the importance of standing by your beliefs and making them come true. With Gareth’s and Manny’s help, Tziki naleds a small piece of Willow bark to the door of her classroom, which read in beautiful gold letters:
“Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.”
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