** If you've happened on an unpublished manuscript and you are in Mesery with us, read if you must and then return before dusk.(We've recently lost one – if found, please deliver to the Marsh Willow at the far end of the lake – thank you)**

 

 

 

The whistle is heard low at first and then the trill rises as the sun fades away ushering in the night, a crescendo of songs, of love, hate and a story told by we the birds,

we, the Nightingale.

 

Sometimes tragedies have happy endings. Of course if you find yourself in a tragic tragedy we can offer little hope, but know this…Know that there are very few tragic tragedies and more often than not a tragedy is merely an unfinished tale whose frown only lasts for a time and eventually turns to a smile.

     Our story takes place in our land called Mesery. A boy, whose name was Leon , lived in a small house on Drimdrop Lane . Years ago in the Land of Mesery the King passed a strict ordinance stating that, "Love was forbidden and anyone caught in love, practicing love, reading about or resembling love would be severely punished." Rarely was punishment carried out because love is sometimes hard to see and the people of the town learned to hide it quite well, a bed of coals yet to be turned over, cold to the eye, but very hot to the touch. Mesery had a morose and blue air with few breaks in the clouds.

     On the far side of town lived a girl named Hope. She would sit writing stories about musicians and kingdoms of distant places until the light of day had been replaced by the sounds of night. The one thing she wrote about most was love, in all forms hidden and obvious. How dangerous was this activity indeed if she was caught, because the king knew just how the thoughts of people can change if given a word and a chance.  

     One day the boy was out delivering his vegetables…turnips, onions, and carrots, which is what he did once a week. As he passed through the far side of the city he saw a girl he had never seen before sitting on the bank of a small stream. The boy kept driving his cart, his mind wandering little from the task at hand. As he passed by she dipped her foot in a still pool on the edge of the stream. Little rings of water rippled toward the boy. The circles drew him in and without intention he now noticed the girl's delicate ankle and hands, so unlike his own clumsy features and a strange feeling made him swallow a little swallow a little slower than he usually might. A ray of sunlight caught him off guard and he nearly fell from his seat. The little girl's mother happened nearby and saw from a distance the boy pass. She looked to her daughter and the flowers swaying in the breeze under the sky and the sun shining so unusually bright. She dropped her watering can and ran to the girl, picking her from the bank. As they marched away from the stream past the old windmill toward the house she said, "That boy is trouble, I warn you, do not think about him ever" and by ever she surely meant never. Well, as is sometimes the case when a child is told not to do something, that something is the first thing that child will tend to do, as is the case in this very story. That night when the girl wrote her tales there was a face when she imagined a prince, and later, as the boy tied up his horse for the night he couldn't help but think about a still pool and a nameless girl with spilled and inked hair walking on feet he imagined were spun of glass.

     The next day Hector, the King of Mesery, stood atop the castle promenade, from which he often spoke. "Citizens, peasants, be fooled not by the insidious villain called love. It comes only to destroy. It is a thing to be feared and the consequences are known to all. Dare not disobey! Love not, or you shall live not!" With that he disappeared into his dark castle.

     Now the girl's mother who was on the edge of the crowd wearing a thin veil heard every word and raced home to warn her daughter. Hope cried all day and night when she heard again the decree of the land. The boy had also heard the speech and went home to his father in a solemn mood. Upon the boys arrival his father paused at his carvings and said, "We are the poor fools who fall in love, eh son." The boy nodded and went to his room, which looked from their hill over much of the city. All he could think while staring at the king's castle was he would surely deliver turnips on the far side of town again next week. 

     The little girl's mother peeked in at her daughter and then slipped back to her own room. She went to her closet and pulled out the little trunk that lived beneath her clothes. She glanced around to make sure no eye was looking and then opened it very slowly. Inside were the trinkets of a life passed. She gazed at the pictures of a young man and woman running through the fields laughing and there they were resting on a bed of the field's dried flowers. She looked in the direction of the girl's room and a single tear fell down her cheek. Looking at the items one last time she kissed the pictures and closed the trunk. A little bird had flown in the window and when she noticed it watching her she sent me away, singing through the trees.

     The little boy's father sat alone smoking an old pipe looking out at the starry night, the smoke creeping toward the sky. The boy rolled onto his back and looked out the window through the passing clouds and into the face of the moon. Both the little girl and her mother were staring unknowingly at the same sky, thinking the same thoughts.

     The king turned from his window that night into his chamber. Across the room there stood a large heart with a crack running down the middle. It sat motionless and then began to glow, just a little at the bottom, but it definitely had begun to glow. The king stared at it for a moment and then ran to his open window and whispered into the darkness, this darkness, "Love will die, your' love will find you out." His chamber door opened and in walked his private guard robed in his midnight garb. The king rose from his chair and said motioning toward the heart, "Find them, whoever they are, wherever they art."

     The next day Leon loaded his cart with an enthusiasm he had never felt and the girl brushed her dark hair with expectation as the sun bounced through the open window.

     Leon placed a bridal on his horse, stopping to scratch his nose, "Let's find out who she is, what do you think" and with a whinny, they set off.

     As the hours drew on the boy approached the far side of the town where he had first seen the girl sitting by the stream. The boy rounded the bend and looked and looked but saw no sign of the girl. Disheartened he snapped the reins and clicked his tongue, not aware that the little girl was lying just on the other side of the stream hidden by the flowers. The horse began to trot along the road. The sound of the brook hid the clip clop of the horse's hooves on the cobblestone lane. Leon , thinking he had missed her, sank low and road slowly on. Finally the girl sat up to stretch and caught sight of the boy. She dashed across several rocks to the other side. The wheels clattered over the stony ground as the girl walked silently along. Her feet made no noise as she followed just behind the wagon. She moved around to the front ducking as the boy turned to look one last time at the bank. The boy's head filled with the thought of the king's decree and then said aloud, "It is best, never again do I wish to lay eyes upon this enchanted beautiful stream." "Hello there." the girl said suddenly. The boy was so startled he fell immediately into the back of his cart, stopping the wagon and smashing turnips and onions beneath him. The girl climbed up the side of the cart and peered in. There lay the boy amidst many squashed and ruined vegetables. "May I buy a turnip?" she asked, with a twinkle in her eye. The boy looked around and then pulled a half smashed piece of green out from the pile. "You made me sit on my last one," he laughed. She looked at the turnip and said, "I'll take one onion then, if there are any left." He grabbed a small red onion from the pile and handed it to her. "It's two cents, please." She dug into the pocket on her dress and pulled out two small coins. "Thank you…and my name is Hope." Their hands paused for a moment as she handed him the coins. "My name is Leon . I hope to see you again next week...Hope," he thought he could not be dumber for saying hope twice. "I hope too," she said smiling, as the horses pulled away and she grew smaller and smaller behind. The old horse led the way without the boy caring which direction it took. When the girl was out of sight the boy said to himself, "So this is the forbidden thing?" and a bird dove through the sky alighting on a red rose.

     Inside the kings chamber the glass heart shined with even more intensity and with a purer red than before. The king sat in the corner glaring at it and then looked into a small glass box that held only his worst memories. Inside the box he saw a small gathering of people. It was a group of villagers standing around a fountain near the center of town. There stood the king full of life. He was only a prince at the time. In front of him was a lady who even as a memory in the past continued to change the course of the future. The lady was Hope's mother, beautiful and young. The prince was down on one knee and the people around had stopped and gathered to watch. The prince was asking this common girl to be his princess. The dream in each anticipating eye was for this girl to be Queen. She would be one of them. The girl looked at the crowd around her, the poor peasants who stared at the rich prince and the wealthy farmers sitting on their best horses. It was all too much for the young lady to bear and with tears welling up in her eyes she ran through the crowd toward her home. The prince knelt for a moment broken hearted with his eyes closed. Because he was soon to be king he could not show weakness and stood with confidence ignoring the ache inside him. A townsperson yelled from the crowd, "Money can't buy your ladies love, can it princey?" The prince was changed from that moment on. With his pride damaged far more than his broken heart he stormed back to the castle vowing once he was king he would rid the land of love forever.

     The king sat back from looking into his most pained memories. "Cursed memories...curse pain...curse love!" With that he threw the box against the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces, his distant memory of love now gone forever.

     Over the next several weeks the boy passed by the stream many times and with each visit Hope's compassion, wit and beauty grew stronger in his mind.

     The king's secret guard constantly searched the streets and listened to the people's conversation trying to find those breaking the king's law.

     One day as the vegetable cart stopped by the bank of Hope's stream, as it had now for many weeks, the chief of the king's guard had stopped to water his horse nearby in the shade of a great oak. Taken back by the girl's carefree way he watched her for a moment. A boy appeared from the back of his cart with a smile he had seen few times since he was a child himself. The girl reminded him of someone, she seemed so familiar, but he did not know who. He drew closer to the tree as the boy handed two turnips to the girl and watched transfixed as the two smiled at each other. On the surface only turnips and coins in the exchange, but the guard saw far more. He saw the eyes connect and the lingering touch. He witnessed the sun, wind and trees leaning in to catch a breath while he couldn't muster one himself. As the two parted and he left that mysterious scene he was certain he had found the two he sought.

     Bursting into the king's chambers he found him lying next to his bed, the shattered pieces of his memory surrounding him. "I believe I have found them my king. I believe they break your decree by the bank of the old stream north of town." "The stream by the old Windmill?" said the king. "Yes, the girl with hair that falls down her back like a sunset's dying waterfall!" The king jumped up remembering her face and the deep cause of his hate. His memory reflected from the broken puzzle pieces around him and we can see it all dancing in the light and haze.

     Hope's mother so long ago, after running from the fountain had returned to the gates of the palace. She clings to the bars and weeps. "Please, oh my love, forgive my mistake, I am so young and foolish...I beg of you, please!" The prince looks down from his high window, across the city and the setting sun. Slowly he closes the curtains darkening his room and his soul. "Take her away," he says in the quickening blackness. The guards pick up the sobbing girl and place her in a carriage that brings her to the place she will live, banished for the rest of her life, near the old stream and the windmill standing nearby.

    The king looked up from this nightmare realizing who the young girl is. She must be the daughter of his adoration scorned and her love found. "Wait for proof of my law broken, and at the moment of transgression, seize them." The guard turned and left with the end of his mission in sight. He would return to that great oak and in love's unshadowed moment would spring his trap capturing the boy and girl.

     Day after day the guard waited in hiding with his men only once seeing the girl. She was alone, writing in her small book. This was not a crime the guard thought and wondered when the boy would return. At night our song comforted their guilt and shame. Three days passed, then five. Did the girl know they sat and watched, waiting to spring their trap? Six days later came with no end to their wait and the men began to think they were mistaken. On the seventh day, exactly one week from the day the guard discovered the two he said, "Let us leave this place, we have been made fools by these two." They began to pick up their camp and mount their horses. Before the last man left the hiding spot as the others road away he turned to look one final time. A small horse and a cart of vegetables rounded the far corner. "Sir, the man said as he spurred his horse ahead, is this approaching cart the one we seek?" The guard turned and saw the boy he first laid eyes on. "The cart and the boy," replied the guard. The spies returned hastily to the cover of the brush and tree, tucking back into hiding as the boy approached. From a small cottage beyond the dilapidated windmill appeared Hope. With a flower behind her ear she ran to meet Leon . She was out of breath when she reached the stream so she knelt and took a sip of the cool water. She skipped across on the rocks and up to the cart. "I once saw a flower almost as pretty as you hope, but I have to admit, that was three weeks ago and…it was in your hair," said the boy his ears tipping crimson. "Thank you very much," she replied, her cheeks to match his ears. "Today I believe I would like something other than a turnip, I would like...some fruit, if you have any." His mouth suddenly very dry he replied, "What kind of fruit?" "Something sweet, like a strawberry," hope said as she leaned a little closer. "How about a plum?" He said, because he had no strawberries to give her. In fact, he had only one plum because today he had decided to put one in with his lunch. He leaned over his cart to hand her the piece of fruit. She stood on the wheel and reached out her hand. They came closer and closer. All but the guard's eyes were closed and space diminished quickly as they nearly touched. The boy suddenly lost his balance and fell once again into his vegetables. He looked up from the cart and the girl's head appeared above him blocking the sun, a hope eclipse. He sat up and leaned sheepishly toward her. With a piece of green sticking out of his hair he drew very near Hope, closed his eyes again, this time with caution and kissed her. "Gotcha!" shouted the guard as his head popped out from behind the wagon. His yell startled the horse and it took off down the road, both Leon and Hope tumbling around in the bed of the cart. Leon jumped up from the back up of the cart and grabbed the reins, "Take us away!" he shouted. The horse charged ahead. "Look out," cried a guard as the horse and cart burst through the men. "After them," the captain yelled and every man turned in pursuit of the lawbreakers. Over earth the young birds in love flitted pulled by the old horse who understood the urgency and importance his cargo's flight possessed. Over two hills the men chased them and over two hills the horse and cart stayed ahead. The little cart could go fast, but not forever. The King's men finally caught up to the two. "Stop at once," screamed the captain. The boy looked over his shoulder, "Never!" He turned the horse sharply down another lane. The men turned to follow, always just behind the cart. Vegetables spilled over the sides as the wagon rocked back and forth, the captain continued to roar, "By order of the King, stop your cart"!   Leon road on, ignoring everything but the echo in the well of his heart, the bottom to which he hadn't even begun to fathom. Harder and faster they sped on. The captain spotted something that might help him stop the two. Ahead there was a straight post driven into the ground that marked the edge of Mesery. He road near the place and leaning low out of his saddle he snatched it from the ground. Catching up to the cart he maneuvered along side the spoked wheel. Every nail and board in the cart rattled and shook as the cart barreled down the road. The boy veered away from the guard just as the piece of wood came near the wheel. Teetering on the edge of the road the guard tried yet again, but Leon sped up out of harms way. From the back of the cart Hope threw vegetables at the guards in an attempt to knock them off their horses. She climbed to the front with vegetables in her arms. "They were serious about loving," said Leon smiling. Hope kissed him on the cheek and threw an onion as hard as she could. The guard dodged the flying vegetable and overcame the two all in the same fateful moment. He lunged forward and the stick was caught up in the spinning wheel. With a lurch and in an instant the whole cart flipped over the front two wheels throwing Hope and Leon high into the air. They both fell crashing down among the broken wood and smashed vegetables. The horse kept dragging the broken cart down the road and then stopped realizing Leon had fallen off behind him. Not sure of what to do and quite hungry from the long run he put his head down and began to chomp on the green grass. Hope had thankfully landed in a soft patch of flowers and bushes, but Leon was not so lucky. He had struck his head on the stony ground near the road and lay very still. The men tied up Hope as she fought and screamed. The motionless boy was placed on the back of the horse and the entire party set off towards the castle.

     Meanwhile the King had heard of the capture from a guard who rode ahead and was very pleased indeed. Rewards were set aside for every man involved in the pursuit. He had two cells prepared for the arrival of the boy and girl. Each room was in an opposing tower overlooking Mesery and had a small window from which the other cell could be seen but the King had the windows boarded up so that only tiny slivers of light could peak through. When the boy and girl were brought before the King, he smiled and said," Did you not know that love was forbidden?" The boy hadn't stirred so Hope replied, "You King cannot forbid a feeling." The King angered by this reply yelled, "Lock them both away, out of my sight and away from each other!" She replied, "I love him and your doors and bars will never stop it?" The king could think of nothing to say. He walked over to the sleeping boy, held up his head and growled, "Where there is no life…there can be no love." As the guards dragged the two apart, Hope whispered, "There is love."

     The boy's sleep continued and the girl could not see him even through the tiny cracks in her window. The leaves began to slip from the trees as fall turned into winter. The people in the town talked quietly in secret about the two and wondered what the king would do. Leon 's father and Hope's mother would occasionally be seen purchasing groceries in the market, or walking the streets alone. People said Hope's mother would break down in tears at the sight of a turnip and the boy's father rarely spoke aloud anymore. The King forced them to always wear necklaces he had made from which hung dark hearts, a symbol to all of the broken law and the severity of his punishment.

     Many months later the king decided the fate of the boy and girl. Instead of banishment, of torture or death, he decided on a future far worse. The boy was to be buried in a glass box beneath a hill. One side of the glass box would face the town as a reminder to all who saw it never to love. The hill was directly under the girl's window and the boards were removed so she would be forced to remember always her forbidden love, but never be allowed to see his face.

     The sleeping boy was buried under the hill the next fall and the snow came again. Winter passed slowly and every day the girl would look out her window and remember the boy she loved. The townspeople also saw the boy and the story of how the two met by the stream was talked about often.

     The ladies in their houses began to think about the two and they became reminded of the days long ago when people loved. The coals were turning over as the fires began to glow. It was a very odd thing, but in this darkest of times, without reason, the houses began to smell more like homes as the pies were put out to cool on the window sills once again. The men began to take notice and would sneak in a wink or two as they made off with a slice. The King saw the subtle change and he too smelled the pies. Soon after, baking in common areas or where anyone could easily smell the delicious treats was banned. News of people being dragged off with a baking mitt in one hand and a cookie in the other, charged with the sweet activity, became a common occurrence.

     The little boys began to give the little girls little gifts made with their little hands. The king was furious once again and forbid the giving of gifts, which included candy, flowers, jewelry, or anything else that could lead to love. Those ladies now of age couldn't help but put their hair up and show off their necks as spring approached. The common birds were singing a sweeter song and the animals appeared with larger litters than ever before.

     As the last of the snow melted from over the boy, Hope noticed something strange. Leaves were growing on the top of the hill, but not just everywhere. They grew in a shape. The days became warmer and it became obvious what it was. A heart was growing from the top of the hill. A maid in the castle also saw this incredible thing and began telling all her friends. The next day dozens of people stood atop the hill looking at the mysterious shape. "What could it mean, I wonder?" said a little girl. The little girl's mother looked around cautiously and said quietly, "It means he still loves her." A boy in the crowd bent down and pulled one of the little plants up. "Don't do that Thomas." "But look," replied the boy as he pulled up the little vegetable..."Turnips". The girl heard the words drifting up from the crowd and tears began to fill her eyes. A Nightingale landed beside her as if the little boy were reminding her that it was true and he would always be with her. "There is love", said the bird.

     For certain there was love and no matter what the King said it couldn't be stopped any longer. The jails were overflowing with the Romantics. Pastries were baking everywhere and flowers were in full bloom. The heart turnip patch couldn't be destroyed no matter how many times the guards were ordered to dig it up. The King couldn't stop love. He may have forced the people to ignore it for a long time, but it was there, just waiting for another chance.

     The King was forced to lift all the laws and hid in his dark castle refusing to let anyone look at or love him ever. He had the large glass heart removed from his bedroom because it shined so brightly it hurt to look at causing him illuminated and sleepless nights. The King put extra locks on Hope's room and focused all his anger on his memories, refusing to ever let her leave. Leon 's father tended the flowers surrounding the hill and cleaned the glass of his son's eternal bed until he could no longer see.

     The boy never awoke from his sleep and the girl never left the castle, deciding instead to feed the birds from her tower even after the King had died and his newly married chief guard, the very guard who had chased Hope so many years ago, had taken the crown and removed the locks from her door. The name of the city was changed to Hope in her honor and the cobblestone path near the stream where they met you might have heard of. It's called Lover's Lane.

     We Nightingales came every evening to listen to her story at sunset while Hope looked down across the rapidly growing town and at the stream where she could wave to her mother in the shade of the windmill and at Leon's father who would blow a kiss from her sleeping love and at the little hill, where the heart shaped turnip patch grows till this day.