Kupo and the SpiritTalker

Short Story / excerpt from a larger work.

I walked along the shoreline until the pink and lavender streaks of the dawn’s glory began to break the dimming darkness. The dawn’s colorful rays resembled the fingers of a magnificent hand pulling the sun up to peer out over the horizon. Ahead of me in the thick, I saw something moving. The breaking surf echoed in my ears as I strained to listen until faintly I began to hear a soft whine. “What could this be?” I thought aloud as I approached. The noise stopped suddenly and I became motionless, straining to capture a sound. I scanned every leave for motion.

"There you are, I see you"! I shouted and ran towards the rustling leaves. I parted the thicket of large magnificent leaves, I saw it. A bear cub! I was looking at a small, brown, furry, little bear cub. The poor thing’s paw was entangled in vines and thistles. The whining was more of a cry; I could feel the desperation and frustration of the weeping, little bear cub. The cub had tried unsuccessfully to reach over the brambles for a large piece of fruit while atop a large rock. The cub must have stepped into the thicket and became trapped.

“I’ll save you”, I assured the cub. “Keep still.”

As I approached the cub looked up at me and stared at me as if he had understood what I had said. The cub was motionless. I couldn’t help but to just stand there for an instant; to gather my composure and figure out a way to free the trapped, little bear. I surveyed the environment and noticed some fallen palm leaves which I laid over the tangled crop of thorn covered vines and made my way onto the large rock. And leaning over from there I just laid a hold of the bear, freeing the cub from his thorny restraints.

" I gotcha little fella." I muttered to myself as I pulled the cub under my arm.

"Of course!" I exclaimed. "I cant forget this!" Chuckling, grinning and reaching out; I grabbed for the coveted fruit.

“Got it!” I announced. Then I walked the palm bridge back to safety and set the cub on the ground before me.

“There you go buddy. Are you ok?” I asked not expecting an answer.

“I Am. Thank you.” The cub spoke!

“You talk?”

“I do”, said the bear cub. “I am called Kupo, What do they call you?”

“I am the SpiritTalker.” I answered with a self assured smile, beaming from ear to ear.

“Well SpiritTalker, I am glad you were sent to free me”.

Looking back at the jungle, I pointed and asked,

“How did you come to find yourself in that…that mess?”

“You saw the Melon.” replied the cub. “I wanted more than anything to eat it.”

“Yes, but how did you fall?”

“I lost my footing on that rock. I slipped and to save myself from falling in completely, I stepped in with one paw. When I tried to pull myself free the thorns dug into me, the more I pulled away the deeper I was pierced.”

I couldn’t help but grin as the animated little bear cub enthusiastically reenacted his ordeal of his battle with the thistle.

“I had a feeling you might have been after this, so please take in you defiantly earned it." I announced, being quite pleased with myself to offer this prize to the ultimate victor in the war of the thorns.

“Oh yes, yes. Your kindness shall I reward with a tale telling, just for you.”

Kupo began to walk away, down the path leading into the forest. He stopped, turned and grabbed hold of my hand to lead the way.

"Come. Enjoy the scenery as we walk", Kupo added, "It is always so nice after the rain."

The forest was brightly lit with streaks of golden sunlight filtering down through the canopy of lush leaves, illuminating the ground and revealing the trail that lay ahead. There were birds flying from tree to tree, singing sweet songs of romance to each other, as they flirtingly flew playfully back and forth amongst one another. Flowery vines of yellow honeysuckle and lavender wisteria perfumed the air and created veiled arches along the pathway through the thick foliage. It was like a divine hallway leading into the sanctuary of a great natural cathedral. I was amazed.

“This is the story of the eagle that would not fly.” Kupo began his account. “A great eagle that once lived high atop of a mountain with his parents and siblings. Nesting amid the whistling breezes and razor sharp peaks of the majestic mountains, the young eagles became aware of the regency of which they were privileged. The day came when the father eagle would lift one of the young onto the mother eagles back as the young eagle would cling. The proud mother eagle would then leap from the edge of the nest into the wind, gliding into a warm current of air and out over the expanse. With outstretched wings the eagle pair would soar into and out of the thermal lifts of the warm spring day. Spiraling upward she levels off her flight, and prepares to drop the young eagle into the hands of Mother Nature herself.

“Momma, momma, nooooooo!” cries the young eagle as she is instantly free falling.

The young eagle instinctively opens her wings and catches the wind, to find that she herself was gliding effortlessly along the currents. This process is repeated until there is but one eaglet remaining. The smallest of the hatchlings is lifted onto the back of the mother eagle, he scurries back to the safety of the nest; he wanted no part of flying. The father squawks his disapproval and once again lifts the small one back onto his mother’s saddle worthy shoulders. With a single, “swoosh” she was off!”

“The young eagle was terrified and clung tightly to his mother’s back as she skillfully navigated the thermal lifts and pockets of the celestial wonder-scape.

“Don’t drop me!” he cried, “I cannot fly!” And with that said the eagle was airborne.

Falling and tumbling, the little one closed his eyes and held his wings in tightly. He was terrified and locked in terror. As the eaglet neared the ground his father came, seemingly out of nowhere and skillfully snatched the young bird out of the air and with a single motion placed the eaglet upon his shoulders. Back to the nest the two eagles flew. This scene repeated for seven days, each day with the same results. In the days that followed, the parents spent less and less time caring for all of the young. The other siblings were already learning to hunt and care for themselves. One day, while the eaglet was all alone, he ventured to the edge of the nest.

I listened intently, full of wonder and amusement at the sight of “Kupo” the bear cub jumping, waving and running around as if a bird in flight while he told his tale. I followed closely and soon we came to a colossal dome-like covering, a natural canopy covering a grassy field dotted with wildflowers, bathing in the sun’s rays that managed to penetrate the sanctuary; pure nature buzzing with forest life. At the far end of the path stood a single tree, standing strong and proud amongst a host of berries and exotic blooms. It was a beautiful tree; the trunk was thick with peeling bark that rolled away in sheets revealing the smoothness of the trees white inner bark. The branches were long and weeping from the top almost touching the ground and trailing the leaves in the gentle breeze. This tree stood on the bank of a small rocky spring. A magnificent rock towered at one end, a crack at the top spewed forth in great amounts living water that flowed down a polished channel and into the small rocky pool.

“Sit” directed Kupo, “I will gather us something to eat.”

I sat on a rock at the edge of the pool and reached into the clear water for a drink. The water was cold and refreshing. Kupo returned shortly, with the berries and we shared a meal of roots and berries. The roots were large and they were sweet on the pallet. The berries were tart and intoxicating. Kupo then began to eat his melon.

“I was beginning to wonder when you were going to eat that.” I said.

“This melon needs to be eaten in a safe place. This is my home, I will surely sleep after such a delicacy.” explained the little bear cub.

“And now back to your story. Let’s see where do I start?”

“The hatch-ling was going to fly”, I excitedly interrupted.

“Ah, yes.” Kupo started, “The young eagle was alone one day and he was sad that he was so different from all of his siblings. He did want to fly, but he was just not good enough to fly.

“I am gonna fly.” He told himself as he made his way to the edge of the nest,

“I am gonna fly!”

He started with a leap, and he tried to clear the nest’s outer edge but in fear the eaglet, stopped on the edge in a vain attempt to halt his decision. He began to fall….. Forward. This time he was not free falling but rather painfully, he began tumbling down the mighty mountain. As fate would have it the young bird landed safely some way down the slope, coming to rest on a ledge. The eagle was not hurt, save his pride of course. “I’m OK, I’m OK.” the young eagle thought to himself, walking around in circles on the tiny outcropping on which he had the unfortunate, yet seemingly fortunate opportunity to find himself. The eaglet was confused.

Where was his father? He wondered.

Where was his mother?

The day was beginning to fade. The sky was turning from a beautiful blue into an orange glow with violet hues of lavender and purple streaks piercing, the sky’s once white clouds. The wind was swirling upward as it gusts past his ruffled feathers, blowing them back in pulses. As loud as he could manage he cried out over and over. His own echoing screams were his only answer. No one was there. Into a crevice of the rocky mountain side he crept. He settled in for a night of cold fear.

His night, sleepless as it was went by without event, as did the next two entire days. He screeched. No reply. He screeched again, no reply. He screeched and screeched and screeched….No reply. Endlessly looking around for an escape there was no way down, it was a sheer face drop off all around the ledge. And there certainly wasn’t any way he could climb back up. If only he could fly. The young eagle stepped to the edge, spread his wings proudly and without reserve thought,

I cannot fly but I cannot stay here. If I can’t fly, I will die!

Leaning out he took his leap of faith off of the ledge and began his decent toward the rocky cliffs and jagged rocks below. The eagle’s eyes remained shut but he could feel the rushing wind and sense the breezes direction. The sensation of falling was replaced with that of gliding and in complete astonishment the eagle opened his eyes.

“I am flying!” He screeched proudly.

The mountain was far behind him now, it was shrouded in clouds and the top was poking out in triumphant majesty as if to say to the clouds, I am here! He circled and dove as playfully he learned to dance upon the breezes of a thousand currents.”

“Do you see the moral of this story?” Kupo asked, getting right to the point.

“Do you not know why I told you this story?”

“What are you talking about?” I protested, “Do you know my life?”

“I know only what you show me. And your tale came from within your own hearts outcry, HAVE FAITH!” shouted Kupo with flailing arms. “In your own abilities and talents, trust your spirit to discern what the truth is and what fear is.”

“How do I do that?” I asked. “How do I trust in abilities that I have not tried yet?”

“JUST LEAP!” Kupo exclaimed with growing aggravation.

The little bear cub was literally growing larger before my eyes. I was watching him slowly, growing in stature into adulthood.

Nervously I inquired of the now grown bear, “Good bear, how can I be sure that I am able to do something if I have never done it?”

“Listen,” Kupo began quietly, but with a new air of deadly seriousness.

“First you must know who you are and what you are here for. Then you will know your spirit, and when you know the spirit you trust in the spirit.”

“Is it that easy?”

“For most yes, however for you it is not. You have in your spirit a power that is very special, it is in truth a gift. And in that gifts denial you have twisted it into a curse. You are a Spirit Talker, one in whose words hold the power of creation or destruction. You must beware of deception and deceit, for they war against the goodness you create.”

“How do you know me?” I asked, “And if I am good; how do you know that I am?”

“You are who you who you choose to be and that is why you are not who you are.”

I was speechless and a little confused. I bowed my head and listened to the mighty Kupo. He was beginning to settle down across a large smooth stone.

“I weary of your questions and I can feel the lure of approaching sleep. I thank you for the melon, and I trust my tale will come to enlighten you, Spirit Talker.” The big bear yawned widely then continued,

“You must return to the sea and find your way to your new destiny. Do not ever forget, Spirit Talker, you are responsible only for your own reality. Use truth as your judge and the spirit will be your guiding light.”

Kupo then closed his eyes and sleep covered him, as he peacefully surrendered to the sirens call...

The light had all but disappeared in the vast and magical biosphere. It was now time for the creatures of the night to wake and walk. The air was filling with small groups of blinking lights; the fireflies were beginning to talk to one another. And the full moon was dancing in its own reflection, replacing the days faded glow. Walking back along the pathway, Kupo’s words started to echo in my ears, what did he mean I had a gift? And it’s a curse, or I twisted it into a curse.

“I have always loved to hear myself talk.” I said aloud, making my self smile with delight.

“Spirit Talker, now that’s a different way to look at it. Hmm, I like that.” I talked to myself all the back to the shoreline, I stopped at the waters edge long enough to take a mental picture of where it was that I had visited, and to say goodbye in my mind to Kupo.

“Kupo, you magical little, big brown bear… cub.” I spoke aloud smiling, “I will think of you always. Farewell.” Waving my hand over my head I turned and faced the water, and my journey was back on.

It was an eerie grey night. The surf was choppy and the wind was starting to blow in a supernatural fog from every direction. I faced the dark horizon and searched for a light. There was no light to be found; even the fullness of the moon that shone so brightly through the trees could not penetrate the fog with more than a ghastly glow. I was feeling the fingers of fear closing about me, “I have got to get out of here.” I mumbled. I stepped out onto the tide with no hesitation I began to run.

Skipping from wave to wave I seemed to float; I stretched my arms wide and caught the wind.

“FLY!” I shouted boldly remembering who I was,

I am the Spirit Talker!

The wind now howled as it swirled around my arms, I was lifted and carried out over the restless sea. Fear had nowhere to exist in my now fortified spirit.

“UP!” I yelled, looking into the sky I launched heavenward.

Spiraling as I climbed out of the fog, the sky cleared. The stars were cleanly shining and the full moon was bright and clear.

A little higher still, I climbed onto the high, thin and gorgeous white cloud that frames the evening sky; I rested on the cloud looking down at the four corners of the world. I watched the storm clouds settling upon the island, twisting rain and blinking great streaks of lightning at the forefront of the siege. I surveyed two corners of the world and that both still lie in darkness while the third was bathing in light. I walked the waters that were between heaven and earth; the sky above the sky, onward towards the light. Diving into the waters, I was again in flight. Soaring above, like an eagle scanning for prey, natures cape of green and flowering fauna. Searching for a sign a great pyramid arises up ahead; and not that far, my destination was clear.

Michael Corkill

Used with permission of Creator and Author Michael Corkill / The Spirittalker Chronicles. Lulu Press www.lulu.com also see “Christ’s Pen” available now!