Short story - Better Than Nothing by Art Hernandez

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Art Hernandez

Short Stories

- Better Than Nothing

Better Than Nothing

(6 ratings)
by Art Hernandez

Page 1 of 2

I've come this far, so why not then? Inch by inch, limb by limb, I shall climb this forbidden tree.

And soon, I shall uncover what mysteries lie therein, the many secrets the elders of my clan have kept well hidden for so long.

And so I begin.

So far my journey has brought me to the middle of this great tree. Upon a large branch, I sit down to rest. Through the leaves and thick umbrage, I spot the old village where I live. I see family and friends walking and holding hands, like tiny black ants crawling busily below me.

Suddenly, a large bird, landing on a branch a few yards away, startles me. It's feathers are green and gold, its beak longer than the my leg. With one eye watching my every move, the bird shakes itself.

"What is your name?" It asks me.

"Gilmore," I respond, bewilderedly.

"What right have you to intrude on my sanctum above the wingless ones. I might just rip your head off, you know."

My heart starts to pump faster. "I had no idea that this tree belonged to you. I am so sorry; I will go," I explain to the bird.

Instinctively, I start my retreat, when suddenly it pecks my right hand.

"You can't leave now, you ignorant fool!" It squawks at me.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Allow me to explain to you what I mean," its says, drawing closer. "Let's say I let you return below, and you tell the rest of your people that you had spoken to a bird that had spoken back to you; more of your filthy kind will come to investigate, to invade my home. No, that won't happen," it says, tilting its head. "I am sorry, but you must die."

"No, no, sir," I inform it with a chuckle. "I give you my word. I won't mention what happened up here."

The bird shakes its head violently.

"Your word!" It laughs. "You're lying to me Gilmore. Please, don't insult my intelligence. It will only make your death a more painful one."

(To be chewed and pecked to death by this ghastly creature wasn't the way I had imagined my life would end. Nonetheless, there was a great chance of my life ending in such a way.)

"If I were to tell my family that I had spoken to a bird, they'd lock me in irons and throw away the key. I assure you, great one, your secret is safe with me."

"I'm sure my secret shall be safe with you," it replies.

I sigh, relieved to hear that.

"After all," it sneers, eyeing me with those devilish eyes, "dead men can't tell tales."

I gulp, shivering.

The bird opens its salivating mouth, exposing a dark tunnel with a thin black tongue at its entrance; it spreads its wings and squawks.

I spot a vine hanging to the left, and without hesitation, I leap towards it, swinging to a lower branch.

The bird huffs, its eyes like flaming fireballs. "You can't escape me," it squawks, swooping down after me.

Quickly, I squirm my way through a narrow hole in the trunk of the tree. The passage, unfortunately, proves too narrow, as it rips a good portion of my skin off. The pain is incredible; however, the idea of possibly being snipped in half by the bird's sharp beak is a quick and adequate pain reliever.

The creature wisely veers from the entrance, nearly crashing headfirst upon the tree. A powerful wind, as the bird whirls by, forces me back deeper into the hole.

I grab hold of the entrance and peek out the hole, watching the bird land on another branch some meters away. It's huffing laboriously now, adjusting itself for the next move.

"I'll make a deal with you," it screeches. "I shall let you live, if you can answer me one question."

Is this some sort of a trick, a ploy of some kind? I wonder. "What is your question!" I shout back.

"There is this one legend that my species hold true. And it goes like this: if the prey can guess the name of its predator, the predator would be rendered incapable of killing its prey; and a horrible death would fall upon the predator, if it attempted to kill its prey."Next Page

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