that the children didn't run away from him but kept standing where they were and looking at him, merely moving closer together to close the space between them, he looked down at the grass and said in a smiling voice, I'm glad you came.
Then added, Look, I have some pomegranate juice here. And snow water. Want some?
Matti whispered, Careful, Maya. Don't even touch that wooden cup. You never know. Maybe it's dangerous to drink it.
But Maya mixed some pomegranate juice with snow water in the hollow wooden cup, drank, laughed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and said to the man, I'm Maya. And this is Matti. Matti's afraid you're a sorcerer. Are you a sorcerer?
And then she said, Drink some too, Matti. Come on, taste it. It's cold and delicious. You won't get whoopitis from it, don't be scared. Look, none of the animals here is afraid of this man.
Matti didn't say a word, just grabbed Maya's arm and tried to pull her back. But Maya absolutely refused to be pulled back, and jerked her arm out of Matti's grasp. And she didn't say a word either.
Suddenly, some peculiar, low sounds came out of the stranger's mouth, twisting sounds that weren't like words, and when he uttered them, an entire flock of excited, twittering honeysuckers, gold and turquoise and blue-spotted, landed on his shoulders and his head, and also on the children's heads and shoulders.
When the man and his guests were surrounded by the birds, he told them how, many years ago, when he was still a child, the other children had always snubbed him. After all, every class or group has one like that, the man saidâunwanted, different, and wherever groups of children go, he always insists on trailing after them, and he always drags his feet a few steps behind everyone, self-conscious and shy, but ignoring the insults and ridicule, desperate to be accepted, to belong. That's why he's ready to do anything, ready to be their servant, at their beck and call, ready to play the fool to make them laugh, to volunteer to be the jester, and they can ridicule him as much as they want, even abuse him a little, he doesn't care, look, he's handing them his whole, rejected heart free of charge.
But the group just isn't interested in having him around. And not for any special reason: they absolutely don't want him and that's that. And he should get out of their sight as fast as he can. Because he's not like us and doesn't fit in. So he should go away because really, but really, no one needs him here.
Maya said, We have a boy like that too: Nimi. Nimi the Owl.
And Matti said, No. Nimi is something different. Nimi just has whoopitis. Everyone keeps away from him because it really is dangerous to get close to someone with whoopitis.
Then he leaned over to Maya and added in a whisper, It'll be dark soon, Maya, we have to try to escape right away.
Maya said, Escape? But the gate's open and no one is keeping us here. You can leave, if you're in such a hurry. But I'm staying. There's still so much to see.
And the man said, Sit down now, both of you, here, on this stone. Have a little pomegranate or fig juice with snow water. And don't worry, Matti, about the coming darkness. It'll be a bit late tonight, so we can continue talking. Just don't be afraid of this mole. He gets insulted when people are afraid of him. He's very, very old, and almost deaf, but he took the trouble to come out of his burrow just to sniff you. Sit quietly for a minute and please let him sniff. Look at how amazingly delicate his ears and paws are, and how his pink nose is quivering so gently in your honor, like the rapid beating of an excited heart. Your smell must be stirring memories from the time before his parents were born.
Matti looked from the old mole to the man, then back at the mole, and, once again, a vague remembrance passed through his mind: I've been here before, all this happened to me once, I was here and forgot everything, and even now, I still can't remember what actually
Then added, Look, I have some pomegranate juice here. And snow water. Want some?
Matti whispered, Careful, Maya. Don't even touch that wooden cup. You never know. Maybe it's dangerous to drink it.
But Maya mixed some pomegranate juice with snow water in the hollow wooden cup, drank, laughed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and said to the man, I'm Maya. And this is Matti. Matti's afraid you're a sorcerer. Are you a sorcerer?
And then she said, Drink some too, Matti. Come on, taste it. It's cold and delicious. You won't get whoopitis from it, don't be scared. Look, none of the animals here is afraid of this man.
Matti didn't say a word, just grabbed Maya's arm and tried to pull her back. But Maya absolutely refused to be pulled back, and jerked her arm out of Matti's grasp. And she didn't say a word either.
Suddenly, some peculiar, low sounds came out of the stranger's mouth, twisting sounds that weren't like words, and when he uttered them, an entire flock of excited, twittering honeysuckers, gold and turquoise and blue-spotted, landed on his shoulders and his head, and also on the children's heads and shoulders.
When the man and his guests were surrounded by the birds, he told them how, many years ago, when he was still a child, the other children had always snubbed him. After all, every class or group has one like that, the man saidâunwanted, different, and wherever groups of children go, he always insists on trailing after them, and he always drags his feet a few steps behind everyone, self-conscious and shy, but ignoring the insults and ridicule, desperate to be accepted, to belong. That's why he's ready to do anything, ready to be their servant, at their beck and call, ready to play the fool to make them laugh, to volunteer to be the jester, and they can ridicule him as much as they want, even abuse him a little, he doesn't care, look, he's handing them his whole, rejected heart free of charge.
But the group just isn't interested in having him around. And not for any special reason: they absolutely don't want him and that's that. And he should get out of their sight as fast as he can. Because he's not like us and doesn't fit in. So he should go away because really, but really, no one needs him here.
Maya said, We have a boy like that too: Nimi. Nimi the Owl.
And Matti said, No. Nimi is something different. Nimi just has whoopitis. Everyone keeps away from him because it really is dangerous to get close to someone with whoopitis.
Then he leaned over to Maya and added in a whisper, It'll be dark soon, Maya, we have to try to escape right away.
Maya said, Escape? But the gate's open and no one is keeping us here. You can leave, if you're in such a hurry. But I'm staying. There's still so much to see.
And the man said, Sit down now, both of you, here, on this stone. Have a little pomegranate or fig juice with snow water. And don't worry, Matti, about the coming darkness. It'll be a bit late tonight, so we can continue talking. Just don't be afraid of this mole. He gets insulted when people are afraid of him. He's very, very old, and almost deaf, but he took the trouble to come out of his burrow just to sniff you. Sit quietly for a minute and please let him sniff. Look at how amazingly delicate his ears and paws are, and how his pink nose is quivering so gently in your honor, like the rapid beating of an excited heart. Your smell must be stirring memories from the time before his parents were born.
Matti looked from the old mole to the man, then back at the mole, and, once again, a vague remembrance passed through his mind: I've been here before, all this happened to me once, I was here and forgot everything, and even now, I still can't remember what actually
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