The Legend of Kirao and Mirao

The Legend of Kirao and Mirao

All the children, women and even the men gathered in front of the white wall. Many of the children couldn’t remember last year when Mioa spoke. For eleven moons of the year He didn’t speak a word. But for this one moon, in the middle of the great storm, the village retreats to the safe depths of the cave, into the belly of the world herself. And for those days Mioa told the legends and stories of their fathers.
All the people gathered as one of the men lit a single torch and slid its handle into a small hole in the rock. Miao stood quietly to the side and with a burst of voice mimicking the whale “WWeeeoooaahh!” he began.
“We are a people of the water,” the old grey backed man said proudly. “From the time Mijao the whale slept Kirao onto the land with all of the knowledge of the sea – we have been people of the sea. Kirao felt the soft beating of the waves on the beach pulse under his feet. He smelt the fish as they glided through the shallows in the warmer water. He knew the night sky by the silver river that flows across it.”
“Kirao was saddened for he could never again swim along Mijao’s side. He used his hands to make a boat and a paddle and a spear. He slowly floated his small boat out into the waves. He screeched the call of the whale and saw Mijao jump for joy. Kirao knew that their reunion would be brief, for during this moon Mijao would make the great journey over the horizon. He wouldn’t return for six moons.”
“Kirao returned to land, build our village and had a son – Jirao. As the moons passed, Jirao grew to be as strong as his father. Kirao taught all he knew to his son. How to read the currents of the water, make boats, hunt for fish, follow the lights of the night.”
One day Jirao and Kirao were gathering fish for the people of our village. Kirao smelt the evil approaching before he saw it. Kalaem was near. He was very near, but Kirao couldn’t find him.
Suddenly the great white demon’s razor teeth tore the front of the small boat off. Without waiting Kirao leapt into the water with his spear. He would kill Kalaem or die. Kalaem was to strong even for the great Kirao. Jirao, from the boat could only watch his father battle the beast. The water turned red.”
“In his sorrow Jirao waited for Kalaem to attack the boat again. He waited with his spear ready. As the demon of the water tried to take Jirao he plunged the sharp head of his weapon into the eye of Kalaem. With another spear he stabbed the crown of the head – killing his foe. He ripped the teeth from Kalaem mouth so he would never again be able to eat. One tooth he slung around his neck to forever remember his father and that fate filled day.”
Mioa slowly lowered his hands and the shadows of beasts and men vanished from the white wall. “This is where we come from, where we will go, we do not know.”
“When you fish, remember Jirao, remember Kirao, remember Mijao. They will protect you. When you sail to the other island to trade with our friends, they will guild you. Young man, when you go to the water for your nine moons, they will teach you. When you return to us, you will be men – full of the seas wisdom.”
After the gathering, the torches were all lit and the children scattered to play. Their play was that of heroes and beasts. Taking turns slaying Kalaem and hanging his tooth around their necks.
Mioa sat of his old rock. He was tired. Tomorrow he would tell the story of the first navigators – Keesha and Reesha.

In the still of a summer night

In the still of a warm summer night, after all should be asleep, you can hear it. Cracking the peace with a vile screeech. No one is quite sure where the hideous song comes from – most don’t want to know.

One man who had heard it, described it as a “creature struggling to stop itself from erupting.” Another said, “If you mixed a cat fight and a hyena scuffle you’d have a peaceful flavor of the sound.”

I heard it myself one night. We were up late talking and enjoying a few cold ones, when through the window burst the foul stench of a noise. It was close – it was very close. We leapt to our feet and fumbled to turn on the outside lights – it was gone, and so was our cat. We heard a brief tussle in the woods, but couldn’t see anything. Two of us shared a flashlight and found a couple good sticks – just in case.

Just in case – we weren’t sure for what, but we wanted to be ready. Hearts pounding and wishing we had another light, we made our way down to the tree line. The weather had been bad all weekend. The day before, the angry sky had unleashed its wind and rain over the area. The cold clouds spit balls of ice into the woods.

They always said that in the cool summer air was when it was the most alert and active. As we walked through the darkness the old legends I’d heard as a kid raced back through my mind: the ice giants of the north, trolls, ogres, valkyries – banshees. One pop of their voice could kill a dozen men. Late in the summer nights villagers throughout could hear the moaning scream echo across the hills.

We surveyed the ground and small trees in front of us – nothing obvious. Moving the light up the trees my brother-in-law spotted something. Just a quick flash of yellow eyes peeping back at us. They looked more curious than frightening. The squirrel pounced up to a higher branch – out of sight.

That’s not what we came down here to find – and its certainly not what made all that noise 10 minutes earlier. I glanced back at house for a second when the tree just in front of us shook under the weight of something up in the top branches. It was bigger than that squirrel – no question.

My hands clinched the stick as my eyes strained to see through the blackness.

“There – diiju see that?”

“Nah – where?”

“Back there – in that smaller tree.”

I tried to focus my eyes through the leaves and branches in the way. Then I saw the brown fur climbing. It’s head pivoted to peer back at us. Orange glowed these eyes. A few more rungs up the tree and we could see the rings on the big coon’s tail.

“It must have been that coon fighting something else that made all that noise.”

Yeah, probably,” I said.

We walked back up to the house trying to convince ourselves that it was the coon, but we both knew better. We had to tell the others something, or no one would sleep that night.

In the morning our cat came back up to the house and pawed on the door. She sprinted to her food, and then under the bed. She stayed under that bed all day.