Late at night, when the zookeeper was sound asleep, unbeknownst to him the animals would on occasion free themselves and each other from their homes and mingle. Those that in nature were mortal enemies here were fast friends; the lion laughing with the zebra, the cobra and mongoose exchanging small talk. Such was the way of things at the zoo, a zoo the humans thought they ran but in fact was entirely the realm of the animals playing a perpetual inside joke at the expense of those who fancied themselves keepers.
Gord the polar bear, along with Cherie the thrasher who although not one of the animals in the zoo lived there anyway, liked to visit their friend Alec the arctic fox during these nights. Now, were this in the wild Gord and Alec would have nothing to do with each other. Foxes on occasion carefully follow behind polar bears to pick up on whatever leftover scraps there might be from the unfortunate animal that cross the bear’s path, and for the bear’s part they have been known to munch on the occasional arctic fox or two. However, even if this had been the wild Gord was much too gentle to ever contemplate such a thing, much preferring nuts and berries. Besides, how could anyone ever dream of harming Alec?
Alec was old, older than most of the other animals at the zoo. He was too weary and ill when he was found in the wild to last much longer there, let alone elude capture, and so here he was. Alec’s movement was stiff, his back slightly twisted from one of the many hunts he had been on during his youthful days. He bore the scars from these encounters with neither pride nor shame, but rather the nonchalant manner of one to whom such things were a fact of life deserving no great attention from any angle. These things Gord noticed. But above all else Gord noted Alec’s eyes, still penetrating and clear despite his advanced years.
What Gord enjoyed the most about Alec were the stories he told, stories that were all the better for being true. His tales were rich treasures, tapestries woven with all the shapes and dazzling light of the aurora borealis Gord saw a few times in the days of his youth. They were stories of and from the Canadian forest that for years had been Alec’s home and for a time was Gord’s home as well before they had both been brought to this place.
It was not home, of course. It could never truly be home; this artificial place of concrete and ditches designed to keep the animals far away from the people and each other. However, Gord tried to make the best of it he could, even with the nasty other bears around with their silliness and shouting along with the zookeeper who for reasons Gord could never quite figure out was usually unpleasant to him.
On this night, as Gord and Cherie made their way toward where Alec lived, he saw them first. “Why, hello,” he said in a perfect imitation of Gord’s usual greeting as the three broke into laughter.
“Why, hello yourself,” Gord replied.
“I suppose you’ve come for a story,” Alec said with a smile.
“But of course,” replied Cherie.
“Very well. A story you shall have.” Alec paused for a moment, then closed his eyes as he began to speak in a soft, slow voice.
One day many years ago, one of Alec’s ancestors, who was named Osi, was out and about with his mate Violet, seeing what could be found to eat. It was a clear warm day, very quiet and very still. No one else seemed to be about. No one at all.
“Well,” Osi said to Violet, “it looks like nothing but a few berries for us today.”
Violet was about to agree when something struck her attention. She immediately looked up at the sky, Osi looking up with her.
“What could that be?” she said.
“I don’t know,” replied Osi. “It must be a bird, but it certainly doesn’t look like any bird I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s certainly the noisiest bird I’ve ever seen,” Violet commented. “What kind of bird would make such a racket? It’ll never catch anything like that.”
“Perhaps it feeds by diving on to the lake. It’s not like the fish can hear it.”
“Perhaps,” replied Violet. “It appears to be diving now.”
“That’s strange,” added Osi. “The lake is many miles from here. Well, it certainly is diving, and it appears to be quite large. Best for us to move away, just in case it has fox on its menu for lunch!”
“Agreed.” The two scampered away to a spot where they could keep a wary eye on the bird, now ever increasing in size as it drew closer, making a unfamiliar noise that grew louder along the way. Then, both Osi and Violet jumped from fright as the bird, rather than swooping down and then lifting itself back in the air as one would expect it to do, crashed with a horrific sound into the very spot where the two foxes had been standing just a few moments before. The sound died away, and once again all was still.
For several minutes neither Osi nor Violet moved or made a sound. Then Osi whispered to his mate, “I believe the bird has begun to fade. It hasn’t moved once. And no one could survive such a fall, not even a bird as mighty as this one.”
“What… what should we do?”
“We should take a look.” With that Osi started walking slowly and cautiously toward the bird, with Violet following behind.
As the two drew closer, it became obvious that the bird was indeed beginning to fade. Its head had a massive wound, its back was broken and bent, and its wings were twisted beyond all hope. It also became obvious that this bird was most unlike any Osi and Violet had ever seen: featherless, unbelievably enormous in size, with its blood emitting a foul and unfamiliar odor. Nevertheless, the two came close enough to sniff about in the odd chance there might be something to scavenge. Then Violet stopped.
“Osi,” she said in a frightened near-whisper. “Look. This bird… it ate the upright ones.”
Osi went to Violet’s side and peered inside the bird’s torn-apart belly. Indeed, inside and beginning to fade were two upright ones, the ones every fox was taught since they were pups to avoid at all costs, for they brought nothing but pain and sorrow to any fox they happened to encounter. Only how they had obviously begun to fade when the bird had eaten them before beginning to fade itself prevented the two foxes from immediately fleeing.
“What… what should we do?” whispered Violet.
Osi thought for a moment, then softly said, “This is an evil place. We should leave here and never return.” And they did. Or at least, Violet thought they did.
Over the years that followed, when he was out alone Osi would sometimes return to the place. His initial opinion that the place was evil was confirmed by the birdnot completing its fade into the earth as did all other fallen animals, but instead by how the plants no longer grew where the bird had bled. The upright ones inside the bird did fade, but slowly, strangely; their fur remaining intact while what was inside gradually withered and faded to bone. This was truly an evil place.
Then one day when Osi was old and knew that he himself would soon begin to fade, he decided to make one final visit to the bird. As he approached, suddenly he heard noises that he knew could mean only one thing…
The upright ones.
With what little stealth he still possessed, he scampered to a hiding place from where he could watch without being watched. There were many of them, noisy and shouting as they usually were, all walking or climbing around the bird. Osi saw some them go inside the bird’s belly. One of them let out a great shout, and then they suddenly stopped making noise. In total silence they carefully took what was left of the two upright ones inside the bird and placed them in separate things they were known to use for carrying things about. Then they left.
“How strange,” Osi said to himself. “How very strange that after all these years, the upright ones should come to take away their faded.”
And that was the end of the story.
Alec opened his eyes. He looked at Gord and Cherie, then said, “Do you understand?”
They both nodded in agreement, for they knew. No matter what they might do for the animals, ultimately the upright ones, the humans, would take care of themselves first. With that, Gord headed back to his home, looking forward to the next time he could hear one of Alec’s stories.
