Up and Down

Up and Down Part 1

The winter wind screams as it blows across my face. I open my eyes. Tears roll down my cheek and freeze. The cold travels along my spine. I shiver. A contagious echo of crying swells into my being. I cannot stop. Mother hums a soothing song. She warms my body and soul. I bellow a yawn and close my eyes.

I squint. It is another cold morning. Mother's vast arms do not protect me from the sun's rays. Talking and giggling ring through the winter's silence.

"Hello," I yell. The laughing stops. The wind whistles through Mother's branches.

"Go back to sleep, my children. It is not time to wake up." She begins to hum, and within a few minutes, we are asleep.

The warm rain splatters across my face as I take a long drink. My eyes are heavy. I am in a state of consciousness in between awake and asleep. I jolt awake from the sound of voices.

"Hello," I say.

"Welcome to the world of the living, sleepyhead," replies my Big Brother. The water droplets trickle along his many arms. He reminds me of a green star. I smile and then chuckle. My laugh starts soft, then it becomes louder and louder with each passing moment. My Brother stares at me.

"What's funny?" he asks.

"I don't know. A weird sensation to laugh is controlling my actions." He points to something below us.

"Do you see the orange-breasted creature?" I peer over the edge and then nod at him.

"Watch this." He spits an enormous loogie and it lands with a splat. The phlegm hangs from the creature's beak.

"Now that's funny," he says. We grin and spit a loogie together.

"Yip, yip," it says as the loogie bounces off its forehead and splatters into the left eye. We giggle as we sway in time with a cool breeze.

At the fork of Mother's great arms, the orange-breasted creature molds its home using small pieces of Mother it finds on the ground. It mixes dirt with spit to create a substance called mud to fill in any cracks. Whoa, it is a clever creature indeed.

The creature gathers green fluffy stuff from the ground to make a soft bed. It steals from Mother and the forest floor. It is evil and I do not trust it. What is it going to take next? One of my Brothers?

The bird stalks along the ground. With its keen eyes, it spots the slightest movement in the green fluffy stuff called grass. The bird plucks something from the dirt and swallows it. It is evil. It steals Mother's small arms and then takes her food. I do not know why, but I feel violated.

"Do not be so quick to judge, Little One." I pout and scowl at the bird. Where is the rain when you need it? Three turquoise-colored objects appear in the bird's home. They are not visible but they wink at me as it sits on them. Where did it steal the objects? The bird might be warming up its dessert. The objects must be strong or the bird is not heavy.

The squawking of three little mouths disturbs my sleep.

"Will you shut up?" I scream. Of course, they do not understand Mother's tongue. The Mother Bird returns with wiggling dirt creatures called worms and drops them into their open mouths. Ah, silence echoes through Mother's house. But how long will it last? Mother Bird has finally learned to give. She may not be evil, but we will see about the Little Rascals. They are loud and I can not sleep.

One of the Little Rascals gets reckless. He ventures out of his home and hops onto one of Mother's arms and snaps at one of my brothers until he has no arms left. The Little Rascal spits my brother out as if it is yesterday's trash. He peers at me. Uh, oh. What am I? Dessert? Do I look like a worm? He hops towards me and opens his beak as if he is going to take a bite.

"Mother, help." The Little Rascal clamps down on one of my arms. I become tense and try to resist. But it is of little use. My arm crumbles under his bite. He freezes. Mother Bird circles Mother before landing in the nest. The evil creature hops into the nest as my arm hangs on by a thread. He tries to act innocent.