How Matilda Saved the Nightingale

 

Once upon a time there were six young Bengal kittens who were friends even though they didn't live in the same part of the world. Zuli and her brother Jellybean went to Miss Kitty's school for young Bengals on the upper west side of New York. They lived with their mother and father around 103rd Street, in a grand apartment that had been built a hundred years before they were born. It even had a ballroom where they took their weekly lessons in the art of Bengal dancing and feinting. Their apartment had a great fireplace in the living room, which blazed brightly in the winter, and a smaller one in the bedroom. They loved to hear the adventure stories of Bengals, and dreamed of having their own some day.

Then there was a young turk who lived in Northern California by the name of Feralon, who was known as "Feralon the fearless," because he had once braved the seas with an old sea captain before settling in his house, in Santa Cruz. Even though he missed the sea and his brother Kalian, who had chosen to remain a ship cat, Feralon enjoyed living in California with his great aunt Jessica and boarding in a private school for young Bengal boys in the the city of York, in England.

The other kittens in the group were Tabby, who went to Maisy Poppins' School for young women Bengals. And her brother Monty, whom his friends called "The Great Catsby," because he loved to wear a fedora and smoke a cigar now and then, although when his parents caught him smoking he was sent to his room, for they disapproved of any Bengal who smoked, saying that kind of thing was all right for other cats but it was not dignified behaviour for Bengals. Monty and Tabby lived on Long Island. They longed to have adventures in the city with their cousins Zuli and Jellybean, and spend time with their friends at one of the Katzen cafes that were the rage among the young Bengal crowd. In fact, it was at one of these cafes that Monty had learned how to smoke cigars from the young punk Radagast, whose father was head of the most feared mob family in Bengaldom, the Radagasti.

Across the Atlantic in England, Jellybean's best friend was a small adventurer whose name was so long and double-barrelled, Jellybean had shortened it to JD so that it wouldn't take forever to write it out in full, whenever they corresponded.

On this particular evening when our story begins, JD was visiting New York from England for the Easter holidays. It was late Easter Sunday evening and the young Bengals were waiting for their bedtime story to send them to sleep.

They had eaten high tea in the nursery, which they rarely used anymore except to play games of hide and seek with friends who came to visit, or when they wanted to play dress up. Magna the old cook, who had been in the family for so many generations she had lost count, had outdone herself on this occasion--even if she, herself, said so. The kittens had feasted on triangles of sardine sandwiches, ham sandwiches, sausage rolls, steak and kidney pie (which she had cooked specially for JD to make him feel at home), rabbit stew, green peas, jam rolypoly with creamy custard (also for JD), apple pie a la mode for Zuli, and blackberries and cream for Jellybean.

After tea the kittens raced around the apartment showing off to each other how advanced they were in Bengal sports. Then they went on another long and rewarding Easter egg hunt until they were finally tired and ready for bed.

"Tell us the story of how Matilda saved the nightingale," Zuli cried as her mother came into the bedroom to tuck the kittens in their beds.

"All right" said Esmerelda, smiling. Her beauty was renowned among New York's Bengal Society but she barely glanced at herself in the mirror each morning as she brushed her pelt, which looked like a dark-spotted cape threaded with gold. Her attention was usually on her latest interior design project. Esmerelda's skill to turn any house into a homely palace no matter how small or large the dwelling, was highly sought after by the inner circle of the Brahmin Bengals.

"Is that all right with you boys?" Esmerelda asked, for she wanted the kittens to be happy as they fell asleep, believing as many mothers of her generation did that kittens who fell asleep content flew in their dreams to the ethers and, there, they would find their spirit animal and learn through their own experience, the early legends that make up the history of the Bengal.

Jellybean and JD purred sleepily and smiled, for every Bengal kitten loved the story of how Matilda had saved the nightingale and secretly wished they could be so noble.

Esmerelda began.

"There was once an exceedingly beautiful leopard spotted Bengal called Matilda who belonged to a young witch by the name of Steffadina. Steffadina was no ordinary witch, for in addition to normal magical powers she had been given a talent by her godmother the Lilac Fairy as a Christening gift. To the ordinary eye, the talent looked like a golden medallion that hung on a slim velvet ribbon around Steffadinda's neck. But the talent gave Steffadina the ability to create any image that came to her mind, in whatever form she wished. She had no need for a wand or the usual spell books that most witches used to change things magically, although she did use her wand and books according to the rules of her clan and kept the power of the talent to create only the most original and beautiful works of art for people to enjoy and be inspired by.

"Faraway, there lived an emperor who wanted to capture a nightingale and cage her in his palace so that he would be able to hear her beautiful song whenever he wished. The emperor, as some powerful and rich people can be, was exceedingly vain and selfish, and he liked to surround himself with colourful decorations, even when they clashed.

"When his bird catcher trapped the nightingale and brought her to the emperor, the emperor was disappointed to see how plain the small songbird looked, compared to his ornate decor. He had already forgotten that it was the nightingale's voice that had so enamoured him. He called for his chamberlain to bring a jeweled cage, in which to keep her but it still didn't satisfy the emperor's gaudy tastes. He could not bear to see the plain brown bird, even in an ornamental cage, so he told the court painter to paint the nightingale's feathers bright colours, and ordered the court jeweler to tip the ends of her wings with emeralds and saphires and rubies.

"You can just imagine how unhappy the poor little nightingale felt," Esmerelda told the kittens. "How she longed to leave the earth and join her spirit bird in the ethers, where she felt she would be free once again to sing to her heart's content in her favourite kind of shrub. Her wings would feel light instead of heavy, as they did in the gilded cage, weighed down by the gemstones. And she would enjoy wearing her plain plumage that she knew suited her shy nature more than the painted feathers ever would. In her gilded cage, all by herself, the little nightingale with jewel-tipped wings was dying."

On hearing this, the kittens covered their eyes and cried, for this part of the story made all young Bengals feel a great sadness for the nightingale's plight, even though they would readily have tried to catch her themselves if their parents allowed them to climb the trees and shrubs in which nightingales live. But they felt how hard it must be to lose one's freedom and be turned into something one was not. (Even the tough young punk, Radagast, had been known to cry whenever his grandfather read the story to him.)

"The nightingale had a mate," Esmerelda continued, "who unknowingly had been left behind. And after many quests in search of a way to free his beloved, he met the Lilac Fairy on one of his journeys, who told him to visit Steffadina, for she was sure her godchild would come up with a suitable plan.

So, one cold night, while Steffadina was working late on a miniature chaise long for Matilda to rest in during the day, she heard a faint tapping on the window pane of her studio. 'Who can that be,' Steffadina wondered, for she knew it was not likely to be the raven who came calling every so often, bringing tales of mystery and wonder from other worlds. When she opened the window she saw the nightingale's mate and immediately invited him to enter.

"'Come in and rest your tired wings,' she told the small bird, for she could see how weary he was, and guessed he must have flown a long way to find her. She led him to a small guest room and tapped on the door with her wand, and when she opened it, the room had transformed into a miniature country garden with shrubs and small trees for the nightingale to roost in for the night. The center of the garden held a bird bath carved out of silver stone, and the ceiling looked like the night sky outside, filled with the distant twinkle of stars and a hint of the spirit ethers beyond.

"Steffadina went into her kitchen and prepared a sleeping posset for the nightingale, so that when he awoke the next morning he would feel more refreshed. The small bird drank her remedy gratefully and then flew to one of the smaller shrubs, where he fell asleep almost instantly. The Lilac Fairy had assured him that there was time enough still for him to save his beloved and that if he followed Steffadina's instructions, she felt sure all would be well.

"The next morning, after breakfast, Steffadina and Matilda listened to the nightingale's story of how he had met his beloved, and how happy they had been singing in the emperor's garden and enjoying its beauty. When he came to the part where the emperor had captured his beloved and put her in a gilded cage and painted her feathers, Matilda put her paws over her eyes and cried, and Steffadina quietly wiped away the tears from her own eyes. 'And, so,' the nightingale concluded, 'when I met the Lilac Fairy and she told me that you would come up with a suitable plan, I flew here as fast as I could. I flew straight for three days and three nights and arrived just in time, for I fear I could not have flown any further without resting. And I was afraid to stop in a strange land in case there another emperor would want to capture me. And if that happened, there would be no one to rescue my beloved.' At which, Matilda wept some more and Steffadina resolved to help the nightingale's beloved in whatever way she could, even if it meant travelling to meet the emperor.

"'My beautiful feathered friend,' Steffadina told the small nightingale, 'I will do whatever it takes to rescue your beloved, but I need a little time to come up with a plan. Be of good cheer and relax in your garden while I think upon the situation.' And with that she turned and left the house and went walking in the hills behind her garden so that she could think in solitude.

"Outside the sky was filled with a strange swirling mist and Steffadina feared that it was preparing to receive the soul of the small nightingale, for she had noticed that the sky sometimes made such shrouds when beings were ready to leave the earth. So she hurried to the top of her favourite hill and there she waited the answer to come to her. It was getting dark again when she finally felt sure of how she might save the nightingale's beloved but her heart was heavy with the knowledge, for the kind of magic she had called upon for help demanded an exacting payment. Still, she was prepared to pay the price, which would mean giving up her most prized possession forever. Steffadina was going to give up her golden talent and sacrifice her ability to make beautiful art in order to save the nightingale's beloved.

"When she got home, she called to Matilda and the nightingale and told them of her plan but she did not tell them about the sacrifice she would have to make. 'What we need to do is replace your beloved,' she said to the nightingale, 'with another painted bird that can sing. The emperor does not sound like the kind of man who would notice if your beloved has been replaced with a different bird, as long as the replacement is brightly coloured and has jeweled wing tips. And if the new bird can sing in captivity, so much the better. From your description, I can imagine how your beloved looks and I will create a jewelled bird to replace her. Then, using a switching spell, I will exchange my creation for your beloved and the two of you will be united once more. You are free to rest together in your garden here for as long as you wish.'

"The nightingale was deeply touched and thanked Steffadina many times until she told him to go to his garden and rest until she was ready to do the switching spell. But Matilda was not fooled by Steffadina's calm exterior. When the nightingale had left the room she said to her mistress, "Oh Steffadina, you cannot hide your heavy heart from me. What else is going to happen when you do the switching spell?' Steffadina looked at Matilda and replied with a sad smile, 'I will lose my talent to make beautiful art. In return for saving the nightingale I must give up something that is dear to my soul. There is always a heavy toll to be paid for this kind of magic. The gatekeeper demands one's dearest earthly possession before he will free life from death.' When Matilda heard that she felt her own heart begin to break, for she knew how much the talent meant to Steffadina. Its power was so woven into Steffadina, that to lose her talent would be the same to her as losing her life.

"For a long while Matilda remained silent as Steffadina worked to create a replica of the nightingale's mate. But at last, when she was coming close to finishing, Matilda spoke again. 'Steffadina, I have been thinking about the price you have to pay and I know that it will be like losing a life. For you, it will mean losing your life, but if I were to pay the price, it would mean losing only one life. Don't you think we can ask the gatekeeper if he will take one of my lives instead of your talent, for I am sure you love me as much?'

"Steffadina stopped working and looked up. 'Matilda, even though you will have eight more lives if you sacrifice this one, you will not be allowed to spend the rest of them with me. I would rather give up my talent than lose you forever.' But Matilda had made up her mind, and once Matilda was sure about something there was no stopping her.

"'I will take my chances on that Steffadina,' Matilda replied, 'for no one, not even the gatekeeper, can be sure how our lives work. And if I do not return to spend the rest of my lives with you, then you will still be able create something beautiful to keep the memory of our time close by, and I will feel your presence near to me always, no matter where I go after this.' And with that she came close and put her beautiful face close to Steffadina's and they stayed together like that for a long time.

"At last, Steffadina agreed to Matilda's idea and casting the spell to speak with the gatekeeper, she travelled to the ethers and presented her case. The gatekeeper was reluctant to change the price but there was an ancient rule which allowed Steffadina to make the exchange, for Matilda was dearer to her than her talent and the gatekeeper was obligated to accept the higher price if it was offered, which it rarely was.

"When she got back, Matilda was lying on the miniature chaise long that Steffadina had been making for her. The wooden frame was finished. All that remained to complete the piece was its cushion cover. Looking at Matilda on the tiny couch Steffadina felt desolate all over again, but she began to prepare the switching spell, for she knew the dye had been cast and there was no turning back.

"When Steffadina was ready, she called the nightingale from his garden so that he could be present to meet his beloved at the moment of the switch. Steffadina kissed Matilda goodbye and waved her wand over the replica of the nightingale's beloved. As she uttered the final words of the spell, a great mist descended, and at that very moment Steffadina's thoughts flew to her last memory of Matilda on her miniature couch.

"When the mist cleared, in Matilda's place was the nightingale's beloved, dressed once again in her familiar brown robe. But to her astonishment, Steffadina saw that an imprint of Matilda's magnificant pelt had been left behind on the cushion of the chaise long. The talent had captured the final image of Matilda, which had entered Steffadina's mind, at the precise moment the switching spell was cast.

"Steffadina realized that Matilda's beauty was immortalized in the pattern, and that her spirit would live forever no matter where the pattern appeared. And with that thought Steffadina bid the two nightingales, who had much to say to each other, a sweet goodnight and went to her room, where she dreamed of her beloved Matilda in the ethers all night long."

The End

- posted by Shelley Souza @ 1:33 PM