As the Crow Flies

Salutations, dear reader. Last week, we analyzed The Mythology of Mindanao. This week, I'm writing a modern story based on that tale from the Philippines. I hope you like monsters!

Regular crow or deadly giant?

John stopped at the edge of the trail and listened. Everything was silent. He grinned. "This way." He turned back to his brother. Matt nodded and followed John. Both men had belted their swords on after they lost the other hikers, and now they walked with their hands on the hilt. There was a monster out there, and they were not going to be caught off guard.

Despite his vigilance, John almost didn't see the shadow getting bigger and bigger until it hit. He rolled out of the way, standing up smoothly and drawing his sword. Matt had rolled the other way and also stood with his sword in his hand. Their attacker looked like an oversized crow with wicked talons and a cruel beak. This giant bird of prey had been attacking everything on this mountain for a few months. It was high time someone stopped it.

The brothers didn't need to speak. They had done this often enough. While the bird was grounded and disoriented from its botched landing, they moved in on either side of it and slashed its wings. Aggravated, the bird flapped its wings outward, but they didn't work quite right anymore. There would be no flying away from this battle. The indignant squawks of the bird drowned out any noise the brothers were making. As always, they worked quickly and efficiently. There was no sense in giving their enemy time to recover. Soon, the bird was going through its dying throes and the brothers stepped away to avoid being hit.

"Nicely done," Matt said.

"Thanks," John replied, cleaning his sword. "Can we eat this thing? I'm starving."

Matt looked critically at the bird. "It doesn't seem to have any poison on it or it would have tried to attack us with that."

"Great! Let's eat."

Soon enough, the brothers had set up camp far from the body of the giant crow and were cooking chunks of it over their fire. There was supposed to be a fountain of health somewhere in these mountains, which is probably why the giant crow had chosen here, but the brothers didn't put much stock in tales like that. In John's experience, everything magical was usually out to kill you.

After a time, they were done eating. "I'll take first watch," John offered. Matt nodded and climbed inside his tent to sleep. The two had hunted enough to know you had to set a watch during the night when you were in the field. Their small tent walls would do nothing to stop most monsters.

The brothers changed watch during the night and the morning found them both awake and unharmed. They broke camp quickly and got back on the trail. These two mountains were supposed to be cursed and John and Matt were intent on getting to the second mountain quickly. They found that often these curses were monsters that most people didn't know how to explain or deal with.

A few uneventful days of camping later and they reached a spot on the second mountain that was missing bird calls, squirrels, or any living thing. John smiled and nodded. He supposed it wasn't that far, as the giant, vicious crow flew. They knew nothing about what kind of monster was on this mountain, but it was likely to be similar to the giant crow they had fought on the first one. Animals like that tended to like having one of their own kind close by, but not so close their hunting territories overlapped.

Sure enough, a shadow began to get bigger and bigger over John and Matt. John rolled out of the way and stood up with his sword. Matt hadn't been so lucky. His right leg was already bleeding. John guessed Matt had gotten hit with one of the bird's talons, each as large as a sword. "I guess our luck couldn't last forever," John thought. This would be a different battle. Matt wouldn't be able to move as quickly, so John would have to distract the bird. Great.

The brothers moved in, but John kept himself nearer the bird's range of vision than Matt. They sliced the bird's wings, managing to ground it, but then everything went wrong. The bird knew it had wounded Matt and it focused on him, trying to grab him in its beak. John was forced to jump in farther than he wanted to and cut the bird's neck without the benefit of Matt acting as an equal diversion. Every time he cut it, the bird focused on John for a moment and John danced out of the way. Then the bird would go after Matt again and John would look for another weak spot.

Finally, John landed the final blow and the bird went into its death throes. John dodged out of the way, but the bird was still headed toward Matt, even as it died. Matt was hit by one of its wings and went flying. Immediately, John ran after his brother, dodging the bird as he went. By the time he got to Matt, the bird was already dead and Matt looked far too pale.

"Stupid way to go," Matt said.

"You're not dying on me!" John snapped, looking around him. "There's got to be something." He looked around for anything that might help with Matt's several injuries. His eye fell on a glass of water. At first, he didn't believe it. How could that have appeared on a mountain side? Cautiously, John picked it up and sniffed it. It smelled like water, which is to say like nothing. Slowly, John took a small sip.

He felt restored and rejuvenated. He could do anything now. John remembered the legends he had heard about the fountain of health in these mountains. It seemed John had found it. Propping Matt up, John got him to drink the whole glass.

Matt sighed with satisfaction and sat up. "What was that?"

"A drink from the fountain of health," a woman's voice said.

The brothers tensed and snapped toward her.

"Don't worry," she said. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already. You killed the monster. That deserved some kind of reward."

John was trying not to let his jaw drop. He hadn't expected anyone else out here, let alone a beautiful woman who just happened to know where a mystical spring was. "Who are you?" he managed.

"My name is Melody. I used to come to this mountain all the time to gather supplies, but with those giant birds, it became a lot trickier. I knew they were looking for the fountain of health and I couldn't let them find it. They were a big enough problem as it was."

"But you gave us some of that water," John stated. He was trying to get his brain to start working again.

"Yes, in return for killing both birds. I thought it would be a shame to let him die."

"Thank you," Matt replied. "We are truly sorry to have trespassed on your mountain."

John could have hit himself. Just because she looked like a beautiful woman, didn't mean she wasn't a spirit or any other magical creature who felt territorial.

Melody laughed. "It's hardly my mountain. Well, I expect you'll be wanting to find the nest."

"The nest?" Matt asked.

"Yes. Otherwise once those eggs hatch, we'll just have the same problem."

"Oh," John said, standing.

Melody shook her head, smiling. "You two are fun. Let's go."

Wondering if, once again, they had gotten more than they bargained for, the brothers followed Melody up the mountain to their next adventure.

The Mythology of Mindanao

Caw, caw, heroes!

Hello, reader. This week's story comes from the Philippines. The Mythology of the Mindanao is a story about brotherly love and destroying monsters. Click on the link above to read the story and continue below to analyze it with me.

In this tale, we have a brave and mighty king and his brother, who is also brave and mighty. It's a nice change for the brothers in a fairy tale to get along and both be good. They are both strong, since they were each able to kill two of these terrifying monsters, but there was still some risk in traveling to fight these creatures who were so far from them. It's nice to see two genuinely good guys in a fairy tale. Lucky that divine water appeared to bring Sulayman back from the dead, though.

It is also a nice reversal that the old woman gave the king something to eat, as opposed to the other way around. I liked that this story wasn't entirely about the king and his brother from a distant land killing monsters, but that we also got some detail about how the people of that land had been living. It was pretty smart to hide underground, but I guess that was really their only choice. Hiding in a tree sounds pretty chancy.

I do have questions, though. The king sees a girl, thinks she's pretty, and gets to marry her. What happens next? Did they actually get along? Did Indarapatra stay in her land? Did they go back to his land so he could rule his kingdom? What happened with them?

I suppose the moral of this story is that if you're going to go try to kill dangerous monsters, make sure your brother has a way of knowing if you die so he can come reserect you. Or, I guess, don't die when you're fighting monsters. Have another question? Think of something I didn't? Have a story you want me to talk about? Comment below!

Allies

Hello, reader. Last week, I analyzed The Dagda's Harp. This week, I wrote a modern version of that story. Enjoy.

Always tip the buskers.

Dan strummed his guitar and glanced in the case. He'd never had a problem making money with his music and he was doing well today. Still, he'd been a bit unsettled recently. He kept seeing the same few people watching him, no matter where he set up to play. They'd even shown up in some of the bars he played in. Dan decided he'd take what he made today and head home. He hadn't seen one of those people yet, and he didn't want to.

Dan finished his piece and let it drift away on the wind. Then he scooped up his earnings, packed up his guitar, and was off. After a few blocks, he checked behind him. The same guy he'd seen yesterday was tailing him. "Great," Dan thought, hefting his guitar. Normally, Dan liked the size of this town, but today he wished it were larger. If he had played near the college today, he could have easily found a crowd to hide in and his guitar wouldn't have made him stand out so much. As it was, there weren't enough people around for that and no one else downtown carried a guitar. Dan cycled through possibilities in his mind. Downtown wasn't that big so he'd have to figure this out soon.

He was coming up to an intersection where the light was about to change. Dan shot across and turned sharply into an alleyway. He tucked his guitar behind a garbage can and said a small spell over it so it wouldn't be noticed. Then he ran down the alleyway and out the other side.

He cut across a few more streets and doubled back in a parking lot. When he checked behind him, the man was gone. Dan gave it another five minutes and when he still didn't see anyone, Dan began to slowly make his way back to his guitar. He eased into the alleyway and looked behind the garbage can.

There was nothing there.

This was bad. No one should have been able to find that. Unless they also had magic. Dan had come to this town because he knew there was some magic here, but he'd never expected to be on the wrong side of a mage. If this person had taken his guitar and they knew Dan was a mage, that could only be bad. The thief had to know Dan would stop at nothing to get his guitar back. Part of his magic was in the instrument and in the wrong hands, it could be sent back on Dan. Sure enough, as Dan moved the garbage can for a better look, he saw a slip of paper.

"Prairie. Tonight at midnight. Come alone."

Dan shook his head. That was the trouble: he was here alone. Once this was done, he needed to make some allies. Dan decided the magical risks of touching that paper weren't worth it. They could have a tracking spell on it, and Dan did not want them to know where he lived. So, he just turned around and headed home.

Once he got home, Dan began to prepare. He had learned how to use a knife, at least a bit, so he chose a knife, wiped it down, sheathed it, and set it near his boots. They were probably going to try to force him into something and Dan did not intend to come quietly. Then he turned toward his notebooks of spells. There had to be something he could do without his guitar.

Once his preparations were done, Dan ate and laid down for a nap. He would need his strength for this.

Awhile before midnight, Dan's alarm went off and he got out of bed. He ate again and went over his preparations again. He could always sing his magic, but Dan hadn't put much effort into learning that, so those spells weren't as powerful. "Add that to the to do list," Dan thought ruefully. Briefly, he considered bringing his phone. There was a possibility he would want to call for help, but the only people he could call didn't have magic. Besides, that would be one giant source of information about him if his enemies got it. Dan turned his phone off and slid it under his mattress. He took a quick look around his apartment.

He had already locked away his magical notes and paraphernalia and hidden the keys. It just looked like a normal apartment for one. Dan checked his motion with his boot-sheath one more time. Then he left his apartment and locked the door behind him.

He should have figured it would be cold on the prairie at midnight. It was always windy in town because the land was so flat, but it was even more windy out here. The wind could pull his music away before his enemies heard it, making it useless unless it was loud enough. Great. Dan kept walking on the path, guessing his enemies were waiting somewhere on it.

There was one good thing about the wind, it flattened the tall grass enough for Dan to see the three people waiting for him just around a bend in the path. Those were the three who had been tailing him recently. Of course. Dan walked around the bend, just until he could see them, and stopped.

"Good evening, Daniel," the one in the middle said. He was the one who had stolen Dan's guitar today.

"Hey," Dan replied.

They stared at each other.

"So, what are you going to try to make me do?" Dan asked.

"Make you? Dear boy, we have an offer for you."

"An offer? That you had to make in a deserted spot at midnight after you stole my guitar. Sounds like it'll be good."

"It will be. Don't you tire of hiding your magic?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," Dan replied, wondering why he had put his knife somewhere that was impossible to subtly remove it.

"Oh, you may play for the crowds and bespell them into paying you, but that's hardly practicing openly. Your whole skill-set is based on trickery."

"Why would that be a bad thing? Life is much easier if you just blend in."

"We offer a way you won't need to blend in any more. We're going to make the world one of magic."

"Excuse me?"

"We'll change it. All of the people without magic will be gone, so there will be no more hiding. It will be paradise!"

Dan raised an eyebrow and carefully shifted his feet to distribute his weight better. "Paradise, huh? Don't you read?"

"Excuse me?"

"Any time someone offers you paradise, it's a trick. No one can make this world perfect all at once like that."

"I did not realize you were so jaded."

"Funny thing about me," Dan replied. He was going to rush them. Maybe he could do this without the knife. "I'm never quite what I look like." Before he finished speaking, Dan ran toward them, lowering his head. He hit the speaker for the group first. Dan took the hit on his shoulder and knocked the other man to the ground. Dan used his momentum to flip over the man and get himself standing. He turned around to deal with the other two, but he stopped in his tracks.

The woman was holding his guitar.

"Play nice," she warned. "Something might just happen to this." Her crony nodded, but didn't seem to want to move toward Dan.

Dan shut his mouth with a snap. He was not going to beg these people for anything. Wait. Dan began speaking, varying his pitch just slightly. "Please give me my guitar back."

The woman laughed. "Never! You're ours now!"

Damn it. Dan concentrated. "Please give me my guitar back." He was a bit louder this time.

"I told you no!"

The man in the middle began to pick himself up, coughing. The third person looked like they might be ready to attack, now that they had backup.

Dan had no choice. As loudly as he could, he sang, "Please give me my guitar back!"

Before they could stop it, the guitar sailed over and into Dan's hands. Immediately, he played a chord. His three enemies began laughing hysterically. That wasn't right. Were the strings out of tune? Hopefully the intervals between them were all about the same. Dan slid his hand a bit down the neck and tried a different chord.

His enemies began wailing as if their hearts would break.

Sighing, Dan moved his hand even further down the neck. He separated his fingers just a bit more and played again. Now, his enemies stopped crying and fell into a deep sleep. Finally.

Sighing, Dan walked over to the side of the path and found his guitar case. Dan played a quick melody on his guitar and checked they hadn't messed with his case or guitar. They hadn't. Sighing in relief, Dan put his guitar away and snapped the case shut.

At the sound of someone clapping, Dan whipped around. There was a man with dark hair standing in the prairie grass. Something about him held Dan's attention. Dan had met many magical creatures, but this man made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Nicely done," the man said. "Although you might want to learn a few more spells without the guitar."

"Probably," Dan agreed, wondering if he needed to get his guitar out again.

The man laughed. "Don't worry about me. I'm a friend. Or I could be."

"A friend?" Dan asked.

"Yes," the man said, walking toward Dan. "Here, take my card."

Dan looked down at the card. He wanted to trust this man. His gut told him it was okay. Listening to your gut at a time like this could get you killed. "Thanks, Luke," Dan said, looking at the card, "but I'm lousy about business cards. Lose them all the time."

"Ah well then." Luke put his card away. "Out of curiosity, why didn't you take their offer?"

"They were forcing me into it. It couldn't have been good for me."

"That makes sense," Luke replied. "If you ever need me, come to the Velvet Tango Lounge. I am a great person to have on your side."

"I'll keep that in mind," Dan replied. However, after he left the prairie and made his way home, the first thing Dan did was look online for bands looking for a guitar player. He decided to audition for a Prince cover band called Charming. He hoped there was another mage in the group. This town was starting to get dangerous.

The Dagda's Harp

Like this, only covered in gems.

Hello, reader! This week, our fairy tale comes from Ireland. The Dagda's Harp is a story about thieves and a merciful king. Click on the link to read the story, and continue below to analyze it with me.

I have to admit that as a musician, I am a sucker for stories with magical instruments. There are many stories with that theme and it makes perfect sense to me. Anyway, the Dagda's instrument is literally magical, not just metaphorically. The Dagda can basically do whatever he wants with this thing. I mean, he put the seasons in order with it. I'm surprised he had any enemies who would stand against him. I wonder who made this harp. We're never told, so it could have been anyone, I suppose. Well, anyone with a substantial amount of magic. And gems.

I also need to talk about the Dagda. I'm pretty sure there's a death chord on his harp, since it seems to have everything else. So he could have killed his enemies with music, which is pretty metal. Even if he didn't, his army could have killed the other army while they were all alseep. He could have stolen something from them. He didn't do any of these things. He got his harp back, messed with his enemies a bit, made them all sleep, and left. It's definitely the more honorable thing to do and the more merciful. The Dagda seems like a pretty legit king, which is a nice change from a lot of these other stories. All in all, I like this story.

The moral of this story would have to be: don't steal someone's instrument. Alternatively, if you do steal their instrument, you'd better hope they're nice about getting it back. I wouldn't have been.

Have another moral? Know of a fairy tale you'd like me to talk about? Are you a musician? Comment below!

A Very Handsome Man with Enormous Wings

Greetings, reader. Last week, we looked at The Myth of The Condor. This week, I wrote a modern version of this fairy tale below.

The birds even sing on cloudy days.

Rosa looked out over the hills. There wasn't even a shepherd in sight, just a few birds. Perfect. She sat down on the side of the hill and pulled out her sketch pad. As a kid, Rosa had run all over these hills. Now as an adult, it was kind of fun to run over them again and sketch what she saw. It was better to be out here, where the cell reception was spotty, than at home, anyway. No matter that her drawings sold and made decent money, her father wanted her to get a real job. He didn't see how much time and effort it was to make these drawings and sell them online. All he saw was her drawing, using the internet, and biking into town to the post office.

Sighing, Rosa pushed those thoughts from her mind and began to draw what was in front of her. Soon, she'd have enough saved up to move away. Until then, she drew not only because she loved it but also for her own sanity.

"That's really good."

Rosa jumped. She had sworn no one had been around before, and she definitely would have noticed this handsome man.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine. I just didn't know you were there."

"So when did you start drawing? You must have started very young." he asked.

"Yeah, I drew some as a kid, but I actually started studying it a few years ago. That's helped a lot."

"I guess so." He smiled at her sketch pad. "May I sit?"

"Sure."

Without really realizing it, Rosa started opening up to this man who liked her drawings. It was nice to talk about her art without judgement. After awhile, Rosa realized she needed to get home. "What's your name?" she asked, embarrassed that she didn't know.

"Conrad," he said with a smile.

"My name is Rosa."

"Will you be out here again tomorrow?"

"Probably," Rosa replied, trying not to blush.

"Then I'll try to come find you again."

Rosa smiled and turned to go back home. She realized that she could walk Conrad back toward town, but when she turned around to find him, he was gone.

Every day, Rosa went out to the hills. She got some drawing done, but she was more interested in seeing Conrad. Eventually, she realized she was in love with him. Rosa had been working on sketching him. When it was finished, she gave it to Conrad as a gift.

"This is wonderful," he said, looking at it in awe.

"So are you," Rosa said, blushing. "I love you."

Conrad looked up from the drawing at her. "And I you."

Their first kiss had to be passionate, born from these words. He pulled her to him and Rosa wrapped her arms around him. Rosa's heart was full. She felt like she was flying! Then, with a lurch, Rosa realized she was flying. She broke their kiss and looked at Conrad. There were two black wings coming out of his back, flapping.

"Don't worry. I won't drop you."

Terrified, Rosa looked at the ground below. Reflexively, she closed her eyes and tightened her hold on Conrad. This didn't make sense. None of this made sense. How could he have grown wings? And how could he be carrying them both? It was impossible, yet here she was. Rosa kept her eyes shut until they landed.

She slowly opened her eyes and loosened her death grip on Conrad. "Welcome to my home," Conrad said.

"Where are we?" Rosa asked.

"I call it my nest. I'm renting this house for awhile."

"Awhile?"

"Yes." Conrad stepped back a pace. "I suppose I should tell you who I really am."

Rosa stepped back, too. Her hand strayed to the phone in her back pocket. She wondered if she had signal out here.

"I am a man and a condor," Conrad began, his wings disappearing.

"The bird?" Rosa asked.

"Yes," Conrad replied.

"Have you been cursed?" Rosa asked, her find full of old tales.

Conrad said nothing and looked away for a moment. "I can't stay in one spot for too long, but I want to stay here as long as I can. With you."

Rosa smiled, then stopped. "But how will I get home?"

Conrad's smile fell. "Once you leave, I have to leave too and I can never come back here."

Rosa stared at him. "If you hadn't just flown me here, I would never believe this."

"I know," Conrad replied. "It's crazy. Magic often is."

"So it was a curse," Rosa said.

Conrad was silent for a moment. "Let me show you my house," he said.

Rosa knew it was foolish, but she still trusted Conrad. The more he explained, what he would explain, the more it made sense to Rosa. After all, she loved this man and he loved her back. She knew he would never lie to her.

So, Rosa sent a text to her dad saying she was going to be gone for awhile and not to worry. It took about twenty minutes to send and Rosa didn't bother waiting for a reply before she turned her phone off. "What about my things?" she asked.

"I can get them tomorrow when your father is at work," Conrad replied. "I'll fly there as a condor and get them for you."

"Thanks," Rosa replied, still unsettled by his dual nature. Still, she forgot it quickly over dinner and had no objection to snuggling up next to him to sleep that night.

Over the next several weeks, Rosa found herself falling more in love with Conrad. After all, everything she knew about his soul was still true. It was just also true that sometimes he had feathers. She missed the outside world, but she got enough signal on her phone to keep up with most of her friends, and Conrad had a laptop with internet access. Although, this was also too slow to be worth using most days. Mostly, they spent time together and Rosa was able to draw as much as she liked. It was a peaceful life.

Then, one day, Rosa realized she was pregnant.

"You're pregnant? That's amazing!" Conrad said when she told him. "I'm going to be a father." He looked at her. "You're going to be a mother."

Rosa looked away. "How can we get him baptized?" She thought for a moment. "And how are we going to get married?"

"I didn't know that was important to you," Conrad said.

Rosa found herself nodding. It hadn't bothered her before, but now that they were going to have a child...

"I'll go talk to the priest," Conrad said. "There's no reason he can't come up here to marry us."

"You've got to ask me first," Rosa pointed out.

"Oh, right," Conrad replied. He took Rosa's hands in his. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Rosa yelled. She kissed him and cheered.

The priest Conrad brought up to marry them wasn't one Rosa knew, but as long as they were married, she was happy.

It seemed like forever and yet no time at all before she was giving birth to a son. They named him Eduardo and he lit up their lives. One day, while she was watching him sleep, Rosa realized that her father needed to meet Eduardo. She realized she missed her father very much. It had been about a year since she'd last seen him. Still, she knew what Conrad would say. If she left this house, she could never return.

"I'm sure one little trip couldn't hurt," Rosa thought. She knew where they were now and it was only half a day's journey to walk home. Rosa thought about this for the next several days. It distressed her to keep it from Conrad, but she knew what he would say and she didn't want to hear it.

So, one day, when Rosa knew Conrad would be gone all day, she  packed a bag for the baby, tied him around her, and set off. It was a long walk with Eduardo on her and his bag got heavier and heavier. Still, Rosa used to walk much farther than this carrying all of her art supplies and a lunch. She only had to stop to feed Eduardo a few times before she made it home.

"Rosa!" her father yelled.

"Papa!" Rosa cried. They hugged, being careful not to squish the baby.

"Was I not invited to the wedding?" her father asked carefully.

"No, but very few were," Rosa said. "My husband has a curse on him."

"A curse?"

"It's an expression." Although she believed in it now, she didn't want to explain to her father. Rosa unwrapped Eduardo a bit. "Meet your grandson, Eduardo."

As soon as he saw his grandson, Rosa knew all was forgiven. They spent the best afternoon together that they had in ages. "Can you drive us home?" Rosa asked as the sun was beginning to set. "I want you to meet my husband."

"Of course!"

Rosa could have asked him for anything right then and he would have agreed. They loaded up the car and Rosa gave her father directions. The road didn't go all the way up to the house, but it would be a much shorter walk. When they started the trip, Rosa was happy, but the further they drove, the more distressed she became. When they finally ran out of road, Rosa leapt from the car and ran to the house.

It was still there, but all of Conrad's things were gone. He had left that first drawing she had done of him on the bed with a red rose on top of it.

Rosa collapsed. How could she have been so stupid? He had told her not to leave!

It seemed like ages before she felt her father's comforting hand on her shoulder. "Oh, my dear," he said.

"He didn't want to go," Rosa choked out. "It's his curse. He told me so."

"Of course he did, my dear." They stayed like that for a moment or two before Rosa finally pulled herself up from the floor. She looked around at the wreckage of her life and then at her son, sleeping peacefully in her father's arms.

"I think," Rosa took a moment to pull herself together. "I think I need to come home."

"Of course, my dear. Of course."

The Myth of the Condor

Just flying away with another captive.

Hello, dear reader. This week's tale, The Myth of the Condor, comes to us from Peru. If you're not familiar with this story, click the link above to read it. If you are, continue reading and we'll analyze it together.

This story has something you very rarely see in fairy tales: an actual courtship. This guy and girl actually get to know each other and get to like each other before they go live together and start having children. Granted, he kidnapped her, but apparently she fell in love with him anyway. I have questions about the condor. Was he just being a jerk or did he have some sort of reason for kidnapping this girl? Could he only appear as a human outside of his nest for so many days before he couldn't be seen by humans again? We are given no explanation, so it looks like the condor is just a jerk.

I am also curious about this girl. She grew to like and trust this handsome young man. Even after he kidnapped her, she fell in love with him, had his child, and still loved him. However, even though she loved the condor, there is nothing in the story about her asking to see her father or any kind of negotiation. It seems she can either live with the condor and miss her father or she can live with her father and miss the condor. It bothers me that we're not told why she can't have both. Again, it just makes the condor look like a villain for keeping her away from her father.

We also know very little about the girl's father. She certainly missed him, but did he miss her? We don't know if he went to look for her. Did the girl tell her father about the handsome stranger? Did he know she was befriending a man no one else had seen? Or did her father see them together one day and decide not to bother them? We know the girl's father cared enough to come rescue her from the condor's nest. When the plot needed him to act, he did, but that's the only thing he does in this story. I like this story; the set-up intrigues me. I just wish we had more detail about the characters in it.

The moral of this story is: don't let anyone pick you up. Alternatively, if you find yourself trapped in a condor's nest, make sure you have something to bribe a hummingbird with so you can be freed.

Think of something I missed? Have an alternate moral to this story? Know a story you want me to talk about? Comment below!

Song Bird

Greetings, reader. Last week, I wrote about The Juniper Tree. This week, I wrote a modern version of this fairy tale. Why should all of these stories end up with everyone in therapy?

He's secretly a brilliant singer.

As soon as they moved into their new house, Elsie started talking about where they were going to plant juniper tree. Paul smiled and suggested the backyard. "Perfect!" Elsie said. "Then, when it gets big, we can sit under it in the shade." She went out that weekend, got a tree, and planted it. It was the summer, so it wasn't the best time to plant a tree, but Elsie knew it would grow just fine. The few leaves on the other trees deepened with their oncoming decay and fell, but the juniper tree, an evergreen, kept its scant greenery even after every other tree was bare. Elise and Paul would sit inside their new house and look out at the snow and the little tree, cuddled together under a red blanket.

The seasons changed and as spring came, Elsie began to bloom with the plants. She grew rounder and full of new life just as the flowers began to blossom, and after her doctor's visits, she would go sit in their backyard, sniff the flowers, look up at their juniper tree and smile. As the months got warmer, she got larger, until finally the leaves began to decay and fall from the trees again. Then she released her new life into the world. Jonathan Ivan was born on September 1st and he was beautiful. However, the birth was harder on Elsie than anyone had anticipated. As the leaves crumbled into powder and the snow fell, Elsie's life slipped away and Paul was left alone with baby Jon. What they did not know was that Elsie was determined never to leave her family. She was going to stay and look after Jon until he could look after himself. So, although her body was no longer her home, she found a new home in the juniper tree, and there she stayed.

Jon grew and grew and was soon walking. He seemed to love the juniper tree just as Elsie had and Paul often spent afternoons in the backyard with him under the juniper tree. Elsie longed for a way to reach out and hug her baby, but she couldn't reach him. She had to pretend that when he was propped up against the tree, he was cuddling her. Soon, he was running and talking and growing and growing. It seemed like no time at all before he was a little boy and getting excellent grades in school. Paul had told Jon all about the juniper tree, so sometimes Jon would come to the backyard alone and talk to the tree. He confided his fears, talked about his problems, and trumpeted his joys. Elsie loved it all. She just wished she could do something for him, but trees move so slowly and Elsie couldn't get the energy to move the juniper tree faster.

Then, Paul and another woman began to sit in the backyard. Elsie knew she shouldn't be surprised that Paul found another woman to love, but Elsie didn't like her. There was something wrong about her and wrong about the way she looked at Jon. Like he was a bug in her house. Elsie learned the woman's name was Margaret and her daughter, just a few years younger than Jon, was named Trisha. At least Trisha was a normal, happy girl. Occasionally, she and Jon would play outside and Elsie smiled at their games. Eventually, Elsie saw the mother and daughter every day and realized Paul had married Margaret. Elsie cried inside the tree and drew into herself, shutting out the world around her.

She had no concept of how long she stayed like that. One day, however, she heard Trisha scream from inside the house. At once, Elsie was alert, but she couldn't see what had happened. She would give anything to be in that house right now, but all she could manage was to move some of her branches a little. Frustrated, Elsie waited. Jon hadn't stopped coming out to talk to the juniper tree, although now he just thought out loud while he sat underneath. Elsie would have to wait for Jon to tell her what had happened. Trisha had been scared out of her wits and Elsie would bet anything it was something serious. Elsie had to wait almost all day, but it wasn't Jon who came out of the house. It was Trisha. She was crying and from her red eyes, it looked like she had been crying for a long time. She had something wrapped up in one of her scarves. Trisha walked slowly to the juniper tree and carefully set her bundle down so the tree was between it and the house.

It was an oddly shaped bundle. Elsie tried to get a better look at it, but it was already evening, so the light wasn't good and Trisha had left the scarf around it. Sobbing, Trisha looked at the bundle. "I'm sorry, Jon," she said. "I didn't think your head would fall off, but Mom said..." She trailed off and looked at the bundle. "Mom lied," she whispered to herself. Trisha looked scared and glanced back toward the house. She shivered.

"Trisha! Come inside, dear!" Margaret's voice sounded different. Something had happened and Elsie knew Trisha's bundle was at the heart of it.

"I'm sorry," Trisha sobbed one more time at the bundle. Then she ran inside.

Now that Trisha was gone, Elsie could focus more on the bundle. Why was Trisha apologizing to Jon? Was something of his inside that scarf? Just then, a small wind blew up and opened the scarf. Inside of it were bones. Elsie could feel her sap freeze. This was Jon. Trisha had said his head fell off. Elsie had known there was something wrong with Margaret, but she hadn't been able to tell Paul and now this had happened! This was all wrong! Knowing it could take all night, Elsie set herself to bend forward to at least cradle the bones of her child to her. She didn't want him to be dead. Maybe there was something she could do about that, but she had to touch him first.

It took until dawn, but Elsie finally was able to put some of her branches on Jon's bones. As luck would have it, a red-winged blackbird landed in her branches not long after. "I'm sorry," Elsie thought at the cardinal. Then, with a twist she wasn't sure how she knew, Elsie put Jon's spirit into the bird. The bird hopped up in surprise and nearly fell out of the tree. "I'm alive?" it asked. It worked! Elsie tried to tell Jon everything, but he flew away before she could say anything. Still, she had brought him back to life and had managed to hide his bones inside her tree. She thought they might be useful later. Now empty, Trisha's scarf blew away in the morning breeze.
-
Jon had never been a bird before, but he caught on quickly how to fly. His heart was bursting with a sad song, so he landed somewhere to sing. He had liked playing with words before, but they had never arranged themselves in his mind so quickly before, even if the rhyme scheme could use some work.

"Margaret killed me and tricked my sister.
All that chopping gave her a blister.
My father ate me, all by himself.
Now here I sit, a bird on a shelf."

"Well, now, I've never seen a bird that sings words before," a man said, coming out of a shop

Jon stared at him. "You can understand me?" he asked.

"I sure can," the man replied, looking up at him. "And you've got the best voice I've ever heard."

"Really?" Jon asked.

"Sing again," the man said, pulling out his phone.

A plan began to form in Jon's mind. "I will, if you get me something to eat."

"Sure," the man said. "Not a problem."

So, Jon opened his beak and sang the same song. The man recorded the whole thing; then he went back inside the store he'd just been in. He came out with a bag of birdseed that he pulled open and spread on the ground. Cautiously, Jon flew down from the tree and began eating. It wasn't his idea of a meal, but he wasn't sure what else he could eat. Thankfully, the man stayed far away and didn't try to touch Jon. After he was done, Jon flew back into the tree.

As people came by that day, Jon sang for some of them and soon he had a crowd. Surprisingly, none of the people seemed to think what Jon sang about was real. The news vans pulled up not long after that and Jon sang for them.

"We have here what many are calling a miracle," the reporter said, looking up at the tree.

"Can't I just be magic?" Jon asked.

The reporter flinched and turned to face him. "Did...did you just speak?" she asked.

"I sure did," Jon said. "Why do I have to be a miracle? I think I'm magic."

"Oh," the reporter said weakly. Then she pulled herself together. "Why do you think you're magic?"

Jon thought. He didn't want to get Trisha in trouble. Besides, even if he tried to say Margaret killed him and take her to court, he didn't think the testimony of a bird would go that far. "Because I'm the only one like me," he settled on.

"What are your plans, Mr. Bird?"

"My name is Jon. Plans? Well, it would be great to be a famous singer." Jon said it with a bird-laugh, but that was exactly what he wanted.

"Well, if any recording studios are watching the news, you just might be," the reporter told him.

"Good," Jon said.

"So how did you come by these magic powers?" the reporter asked.

Jon pondered. He didn't remember much after he got murdered. Just an impression of his mother, and then he was a bird in a tree. That wasn't a good story. "I'm a ghost possession gone wrong," Jon told her in a confidential tone.

In later interviews, Jon would make up different stories to explain his existence. When asked why his story changed every time, Jon said it was more fun that way, but really he didn't want to tell anyone the truth. Soon after his first interview, Jon did sign with a record company. He made sure all of his royalties went into a bank account the record company couldn't touch. It was under his legal name, although his stage name was Jon Bird, and only he knew the pin for the account. Jon had the record company direct deposit all of his checks and, from time to time, he would check his balance online to make sure he was actually getting paid. He was a singer and a songwriter, but Jon knew the novelty of a singing and talking bird was going to wear away quickly. So, one night after they finished recording his latest track for his latest album, he flew out an open window.

He had gone shopping online and had a few things delivered to his old house. They were supposed to get there the next day, but Jon intended to beat them. He got there in the morning and flew into the juniper tree to wait. It seemed to welcome him back and, after his family had left for work or school, Jon told the tree what he had been up to. It seemed like the right thing to do. Once the packages arrived, Jon flew down and brought them up into the tree, one by one. He struggled with the third package, but that one was the most important to get in the tree. Jon made sure it was across a few branches so the branches didn't break.

Not too much later, Jon saw his family come trickling home. As soon as his father pulled up, Jon began singing:

"Margaret killed me and tricked my sister.
All that chopping gave her a blister.
My father ate me, all by himself.
Now here I sit, a bird on a shelf."

Cautiously, Paul poked his head out of the house. "Hello?" he asked.

Jon settled his feathers and sang his song again. Then he flew down from the tree and dropped a new Rolex into his father's startled hands.

"Trisha! Margaret! Come outside. It's just like that famous bird!" Paul yelled. He looked down at the watch. "And he gave me a watch," Paul muttered, confused.

Trisha came out of the house and Jon was surprised at how much she had grown, although he hadn't been away that long. Jon opened his beak and sang:

"Margaret killed me and tricked my sister.
All that chopping gave her a blister.
My father ate me, all by himself.
Now here I sit, a bird on a shelf."

Then he flew down and gave Trisha a pair of red shoes. Jon hoped they would fit.

"Margaret!" Paul yelled into the house. "You have to come out here and see this bird."

"I feel terrible," Margaret whined back. "My head is splitting."

"Come on out here," Paul said. "It's not every day you see this."

"Well, I suppose not," Margaret said. "Maybe the bird's song will make me feel better." She stumbled out of the house. They all looked expectantly up at Jon, but he was picking up the final package with his beak. He had ordered a heavy set of weights and Jon wasn't sure how he was able to pick them up, but he managed it. Then he flew over and dropped them square on Margaret's head.

She died instantly, which was the most that Jon owed her. Paul and Trisha stared at Margaret's body in shock. Then Jon felt himself being pulled back to the juniper tree. He was covered with its branches and then he began to change. It felt very strange, like he was having an out of body experience. Or perhaps having the experience of two bodies. When it was over, Jon was sitting on the ground in front of the juniper tree and he was in his own body again.

"Hi, Dad. Hi, Trisha," Jon said.

"Jon?!" Paul yelled. He ran over to his son. "What happened? How are you here?!" He swept his son up in a hug. Trisha was right behind him. For a moment, Jon just let them hug him.

"What happened?" Paul asked again as they separated. Then he looked over at Margaret's body. "Let's go inside," he said. "You can tell us all about it then."

As they headed in, Jon decided what he told his dad was going to be different from what he told his sister. He didn't want his dad to think he was crazy, but he was going to tell Trisha the truth. Maybe he'd say he got kidnapped somehow. That made as much sense as anything else. Still, Jon reflected, at least no one in the house wanted to kill him anymore. Life was going to be a lot easier now.