Swan Sister (9 page)

When it came she jumped into the water and threw her arms around its gills. “You are the cleverest, kindest creature in the world. Auntie will be happy now and always with us. We will pamper and love her and enjoy her beauty.”

The fish struggled out of her grip. “My own darling Mira, you must get out of the water. I long for your embrace, but it hurts me, and you will drown if you stay too long.”

Mira climbed onto the dock, dripping and trembling.

The fish gazed up at her, love and longing filling its flat eyes. “You have been so kind to those you love, Mira. Do you not have any more wishes?”

“I wish I could be a fish and be with you,” she said.

The fish rocked its body in the waves. “This is not a good life,” it said. “Much as I love the water, it is cold, and there are so many hooks in it.”

“Then, I wish you were a human and could live with my father and me,” she answered.

“It is done,” the fish said joyously, and in the water instead of a fish swam Mira’s mama!

She climbed out of the water, laughing and crying, to embrace her darling girl.

“Ah!” Mira cried, and threw her arms around her mother’s neck. Now Mama could return her embrace with all her love.

“How can this be?” Mira asked.

“When my boat broke up in the storm and I would have drowned, I was saved by a sea witch who wanted a sister for company. She promised me half her power if I would stay. My choices were few. I could agree or drown. But even then I could think only of you and your father. So I made the sea witch agree to a bargain. I would stay in the sea and share her power, but if a human asked that I
become human again, it would be done. If I spoke a word of the bargain, the witch promised that I would die.”

“Mother! What a hard bargain you struck!”

“It took me all this time to get away from the sea witch and find my way back to my own bay. And now because your kind heart made the request, you have your mama back to stay!”

“We are so wet! We should go to our little house and dry ourselves by the fire,” Mira said.

Just then she looked behind them, across the bay, to glance once more at the fisherman’s palace. It was gone! Where all the fine houses had been, there was once more only a small, crusty vinegar barrel.

“Mama! You took away the great palace of the fisherman and his wife,” she exclaimed.

“Yes.” Mama nodded. “The fisherman’s wife wanted to control the sun and the moon. That was too much to ask, so I took it all away. They’ll be happier as they are. They had better be. Now that I am human again, the powers the sea witch gave me are gone.”

The two walked to the small house, and there they all live to this very day, with Father, Sasha the cat, and a beautiful violet on the kitchen table.

And sometimes the fisherman and his wife come to visit and talk about the time they were emperor and empress.

The farmer, his fisher wife, and their lovely daughter smile and say nothing.

“‘The Fisherman and His Wife’” has always been one of my favorite fairy tales,” admits
P
AT
Y
ORK
. “I loved the notion of getting anything I asked for, and I really loved the fish! But I always wondered why the fish never said no, why anyone would want to be an empress—I had a lot of questions! So I decided to answer a few of them by writing this story. I never did figure out everything, but I had a good time trying.”

P
AT
Y
ORK
teaches academic enrichment classes to children in first through fifth grades at Cleveland Hill Elementary School in Cheektowaga, New York. Her poem “A Faerie’s Tale” was nominated for the Rhysling Award, and her story “You Wandered Off Like a Foolish Child To Break Your Heart and Mine” was nominated for the Nebula Award. She is currently working on a novel about small shopkeepers on the moon.

It’s a good world. There are good places in it like Cane County,
where the air is clearer than glass and the streams sing. There are good fathers in the world, like Tilford Fortune.

Mr. Fortune was a farmer in Cane County. His farm was in rocky hills, though, and rocky hills don’t make for the best farms. But he worked hard. His back was broad and he knew the weather and he kept his children fed. He kept their clothes mended and the house clean and warm. He did all these things alone, because his wife had passed away.

Strong as he was, though, one day Tilford Fortune fell sick. He’d long dreaded the day he couldn’t provide for his three children anymore. He’d prayed that they’d be grown, with families of their own, long before his time
came to die. But Tilford Fortune knew the weather, and he could see that a storm was coming for his family.

He called his three children to him. The oldest was a girl of twelve, tall and straight with hair the color of the sun and fine as corn silk. Her name was Sally.

“It’s a good world, Sally,” said Tilford Fortune, “but sad things happen everywhere. It’s been hard work seeing that you children have hot food. And now I’m not going to be here any longer.”

Sally began to cry because she loved her father very much. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t know how to plant the garden and bake the bread.”

“You’ll have to go out into the world, then, Sally,” said Mr. Fortune. “I have very little to leave to you children, no money at all. But what I do leave to you, you must make the most of.”

Sally nodded, though she couldn’t stop her tears.

“Sally, I want you to take the rooster that lives in the yard. If you find a person that’s never seen a rooster, then that person will give a great treasure for it. Then you can buy food for you and your brother and sister.”

Tilford Fortune’s middle child was his only son. He was a sturdy little boy, ten years old, his skin as brown as a walnut from playing all day long in the sun. His name was Toby, and if he didn’t always like his sisters, we can forgive him.

“It’s a good world, Toby,” said Tilford Fortune, “but sad things happen everywhere. I’ve worked long into the night so that you children can have warm clothes. I won’t be here to do that much longer.”

Toby began to cry because he loved Tilford too. “I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I don’t know how to sew up holes in the old clothes or make new ones, either.”

“You’ll have to go out into the world, then, Toby,” said Mr. Fortune. “I have very little to leave to you. But what I do leave to you, you must make the most of.”

Toby nodded, but still he cried and cried.

“Toby, I want you to take the scythe I use to harvest the wheat. If you find a person that’s never seen a scythe, then that person will give you gold for it. Then you can buy clothes for you and your sisters.”

The youngest child was a pretty little girl named Molly. She was just four and so not old enough to remember her mother. She was a lonesome child and her eyes, green as the river, were always sad.

“It’s a good world, Molly,” said Mr. Fortune, “but sad things happen everywhere. I’ve worked hard so that you children would have a safe, dry place to sleep. But I’ll soon be gone.”

Molly’s green eyes glistened. She loved Tilford Fortune most of all, and she began to cry. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t know how to make new cedar shingles for the cabin roof.”

“You’ll have to go out into the world, then, Molly, with your brother and your sister,” said Mr. Fortune. “I have very little to leave to you. But what I do leave to you, you must make the most of.”

Molly nodded.

“I want you to take the cat that curls at your feet at
night. If you find a person that needs him very much, then you’ll know what to do.”

Then Tilford Fortune told his children that he loved them, and told them to remember his last words to each of them.

When he was gone, the children of Tilford Fortune mourned for three weeks. But at the end of three weeks, all the food in the house was gone. The shutters had come loose from the side of their old cabin, and there were holes in the elbows and knees of their worn old clothes.

Sally Fortune went out into the yard then and caught her father’s old rooster. “I don’t know where in the world I’ll find someone who needs a rooster, but I have to go look.”

Toby didn’t like following after his sister, but he remembered what Tilford Fortune had said. He found the gleaming scythe wrapped in oilcloth in the barn and went to stand behind Sally in the front yard.

Molly sat on the porch for a long time, stroking her tabby cat, which was dozing in her lap. She was afraid to leave her home, but she was afraid to be left alone, too. So she put the tabby in a wicker basket and went to join her brother and sister.

The three children walked down out of the hills, then, and into the world.

As they were leaving Cane County, an old woman called out to them from the porch of her house. “Where are you children going?”

Sally was in front of the little group. “Out into the
world to find our fortune, ma’am. I’m looking for somebody who’s never seen a rooster so they’ll trade me a great treasure for this one.”

The old woman shook her head. “You’ll have to get a long way from here before you find anybody that’s never seen a rooster!” she said.

And the old woman was right. The children wandered a great distance, and everywhere they went they found roosters.

They took a little boat to a hot country covered with jungles. The trees were filled with wild roosters. They were loud and colorful, with a dozen shades of green and red in their wings, and tails as long as a peacock’s, but they were roosters still, and no one in that country would give Sally treasure for her father’s gift.

But a man who lived there took pity on them. “Sally, Sally,” he said. “Do you know what a rooster is for?”

Sally didn’t understand his question, but the man wore a friendly smile so she asked him to please explain.

“No one in my country needs your rooster because roosters are for dividing time. And we know how to divide our time here. In the morning, when those wild roosters in the jungle are crying at the sun, we’ve already risen from our mats and gone to our labors. Some of us fish for a little while in the sea, and some of us gather fruits in the jungles. Some of us go out with our spears and hunt the fierce bears so that we have meat for our feasts. And after a while, when we have enough, we come back to our village and share what we have. We take long
naps in the afternoons. At night we light fires and play music and dance. So do you know who to look for now, Sally?”

Sally took her brother and sister and went to find people who did not know how to divide their time.

After a while the children found a great building that was as polished as a mirror. It was made of metal and glass and was sealed off from the sky. The children found their way inside it to a great room divided into much smaller rooms by strange cardboard walls.

There were dozens of people there, rushing around Sally and her rooster while Toby and Molly huddled together next to a plastic tree. The people were frantic and hurried, typing on keyboards and phones, rifling through papers and printouts, paging with pagers and meeting in meetings. They flowed around Sally and her rooster like a stream flows around a limestone boulder.