10
There were spiked guns in the air spurting puffs of smoke and lemon yellow flame tongues licked the very soul out of the sky. Yilp, the songbird, flew from one side of the cage to the other, bashing into the bars as if she had suddenly forgotten their solidity, in her fear at the rumbles and bangs in the streets and the air. Even when Mother came and cooed and covered the cage, the poor bird crunched again into the bars dementedly. Xian-Xian and Chi were oblivious to all this, sitting out on the wooden balcony, that overlooked the apothecary and the tiny street below where Father stood ramming another pellet down his rifle. Xian-Xian was eight and sat dangling his legs over the edge, Chi, little Chi, was only three; she crawled around on the wooden floor laughing at the colours bursting all around their heads.
9
Xian-Xian was wise, even his Father, one of the richest men in the town, said so. Xian-Xian knew all about things, how things fitted together, how everything was sort of interconnected, like a chain. That’s what he told his Father who was often bemused that an eight year old boy told him the secrets of life. "Get out and play in the dirt with the other boys." he snorted, but he was secretly proud. They would keep their privileged position in society if Xian-Xian developed at this rate he informed visitors who called at the house. The one thing Xian-Xian loved, after his Mother and Father and Chi, was birds. Any type of bird it didn’t matter. They amazed him; they simply astounded him. Where one had the most devilish gaudy colours, the next was swifter and faster than the wind. An eagle could crush a man’s arm with its talon, a wren could sit neatly in his palm. They were a universe to him, a menagerie of infinite wonder and new surprises. Yilp, the songbird, was an eighth birthday present and Xian-Xian adored her. The boy would watch her, take notes, draw pictures. His Mother would chastise him for sitting up until the night had turned, reading from all types of ornithological books. Xian-Xian devoured them.
8
It was a dark time, the Communist government were in full control of the whale that was China. It took drastic measures to rid the country of its social and economic problems; some of them are well documented, clamp-downs, executions, fixed rice harvest competitions but others were more radical. China was virtually isolated from the world, despite being a world in herself, and was desperate to save money, whatever the cost. The shootings and the explosions were the government’s idea. There were too many birds, correction, too many birds were eating what little food there was. So in a few decided days China went on the offensive. Rockets whooped through the air, bullets bounced crazily, small explosions rocked the streets and nets were cast over town and city squares. The birds flew in a constant state of fear, never resting, never eating, until they dropped like rocks to the pavements and fields. In their final unceremonious moments they became food for the hungry people of China.
7
Father aimed very high and launched another gob of hot metal into the atmosphere. The crack resounded through the house and Yilp lurched bloodily into the bars; the target of Father’s shot fell, bouncing once or twice on the cobbles. "HA,HA!" he shouted dancing up and down, "I’ve got another." Xian-Xian watched from overhead studying his Father’s antics closely. A few days ago, almost as if by some premonition Xian-Xian had found a chapter in an obscure Western book, that was stuck behind some other books in the library, that referred to a bird called the Dodo. It had been a flightless bird and wobbled around a certain island with a huge beak and ridiculous looking wings. It was now extinct. The word troubled him.
6
"It means when something is hunted out of existence" his Father answered returning home from a State occasion. "But why would anyone want to do that, Sir?" he asked. "Because...well there are a hundred reasons, go and play Xian-Xian, we’ll talk later." But they hadn’t talked later, at least not about extinction. "You see Chi it’s like this." he explained to his laughing sister as his Father readied his gun in the air again, "Once you find that something has a weakness you can exploit it. The Dodo could not fly, until man came to the island it had no need to fly. They could scoop the Dodos up and eat them whenever they liked, you see?" Chi, little Chi, gurgled in happiness or fear, Xian-Xian could not tell which, at the boom from below them as Father shot down another flying victim. Most people merely let loose their rifles into the marine blue sky, but Xian-Xian’s Father loved to hunt.
5
"Why Father? Why kill all the birds?" Xian-Xian shouted hanging over the balcony. "Because they eat our grain, we must kill all the pests. Now get back to your sister, it’s dangerous out here." Yilp flopped to the base of the cage exhausted. "I don’t understand Chi. I don’t understand why they have to kill them all. They are beautiful, more beautiful than human beings can ever be. They tell us what we could be, what we could achieve. Beauty." Chi, little Chi, who would, in 15 years, be sold to an English man for a year’s wages and raped repeatedly by his friends until death, giggled in reply.
4
Yilp’s last torn gasp was barely a sound. Father took aim at a plump wood pigeon sailing over their rooftop, this was almost too easy. Xian-Xian turned to little Chi who was waving her arms in the air at the diving pigeon. The shot splashed the house once more with noise.
3
The bullet splintered and dug its way through the balcony, rending the wood...
[to read the end of this story, buy em two.]
Steven Blackburn
"I’m 27 years old, married, and work in marketing for Bloomsbury Publishing. Literature and marketing are the two things I am passionate about (apart from horses) so I think I’ve been amazingly lucky. All I want to do is ride and write.
"Xian-Xian, like most of my stories, came from a strange cocktail of sources; dreams, my life, documentary. Ultimately it is about power, parents, love and the lack of love. I think. Special prize for whoever guesses where the maggot reference comes from."
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