Chapter 3 – Toes

It was pitch black under the upturned cockpit. He could hear her strained breathing, sense her teeth gritted against the pain. He held out a hand cautiously.

"Can you reach my hand?"
"Where?
"Here."

He moved it slowly in front of him and found something soft. He drew his hand back quickly, embarrassed.

"Sorry."
"Don't worry. Here."

He found her. Their blindly reaching arms bumped together. She held on tight, much too tight.

"Right, keep still."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm going to untie the rope. Which side is the knot?"
"My left side, on my hip."
"Alright. Please be patient."

A pause.

"Sheeta, you need to let go of my hand."
"Sorry."

It took him a few minutes. Her knots were good. But eventually he was able to move off her and give her some relief. She sighed as the discomfort and pressure were removed.

"Uh, my back."
"I thought it was your leg."
"Something sticking in my back as well."

This was bad. When the cockpit had tipped up she had been underneath, and roped together he had landed on her. It might even be his fault her leg was broken.

"Let me lift you."
"Ow! No! Hurts."
"Sorry, but I have to move you off that. I think your back is across the cockpit rim. I need to look at it."

He remembered the heavy bolt heads around the rim. If her spine had landed on one of those, with his weight on top…

"I'm sorry Pazu…"
"What for?"
"I roped us together. It's my fault we're in this mess."
"Don't be silly, it was my idea."
"And you did such a beautiful landing too."
"Not beautiful enough. I didn't take the slope into account. If I'd thought about it I would have realised."
"It's done now, no use worrying."

He felt bad. It had been his fault. The rope and the landing. Maybe he'd just been over tired and made some silly mistakes, poor decisions.

He slid her around so her head was up the slope. Every time he moved her she moaned, but he knew she was clamping her jaw closed, without that the moans would be screams. The craft wasn't completely upside down and now that his night vision was working a small slice of light was apparent on the downhill side of the cockpit. Burrowing under it Pazu found the bracken here was dense and springy and partly pressed down. Like a dog, bottom in the air, he dug through it, pulling it aside with his gloved hands. He got his head and shoulders through and found that by twisting around onto his back he could slide out. He stood up in the fresh air. Night had come. The western sky still held a reddish cast but overhead and to the east stars were out. He recognised the Maiden and the Hunter constellations at once. He tried to think which moon would rise first and where. In summer and this far north it would be Tahro and quite soon over the ridge behind them which meant they would have some light shortly. Ptamos wouldn't come over the horizon until the small hours, three or maybe four. They'd have to make do with the light of the smaller moon. He looked at the glider. Apart from it being upside down it looked to be in fair condition, although how torn the wing was he couldn't yet tell. Hm, a rigid winged machine wouldn't have flipped over. He put his head under the gap again.

"I'm going to find something to put under the edge here and lever the cockpit up a little so you can get out."
"I don't think I'll be going anywhere just yet."
"We'll see. We don't know yet that it's broken."
"It feels broken," a low sob came from inside the upturned glider, "I'm sorry Pazu."
"Shhh, stop that. It's not your fault. Give me five minutes. I'll be right back."

He had bare feet. No matter, he'd have to find some scrap cloth later and put bindings round them, But here, on the ground it was a lot warmer. After a short walk across the slope he found what he was looking for, a boulder, a good size with a nice square edge. With an effort he lifted it and staggered back to the glider, dropping it near one end of the small opening. Then he went down the hill and into the small stand of trees they had cleared just before their final turn. Luck was on his side, within a few minutes he found a long and reasonably straight fallen timber, not too rotten. Carrying this back to the glider he levered the cockpit up and with his foot pushed the boulder under the rim, holding it up enough to make an entryway a little like a low cave mouth. Digging down and scraping with his hands he pulled away a gap in the bracken and finally there was a doorway big enough to get through while walking stooped right down. He went back inside. There was a little more light now. He had lost his knapsack somewhere on Laputa, he didn't even remember when, probably while he was chasing Muska, or at the end when everything happened... He rummaged around in the debris inside the cockpit, there had to be a basic supply kit of some kind for people on watch. Then he found something, a wrapped oilcloth bundle. In it were two candles and a box of matches. He took off his gauntlets and lit one of the candles. He turned.

Sheeta lay on her back, her face was drawn and pale and sweaty and her breathing came in shallow fast gasps. She was in a lot of pain, Pazu could see that at once.

"Which leg?"
"Left. Near the ankle."
"Right. First I'm going to roll you over on your right side and take a look at your back. Alright?"
"Yes."

With a few drops of it's own wax he stuck the candle to the flat edge of a spanner. He knelt up and carefully slid the aviator's poncho up and off her.

"Are you alright with me doing this?"
"Of course, just hurry up, this is agony."
"Sorry, I'll be quick."

He pulled her shirt from the back of her trousers and dragged the material up. She was wearing some kind of vest under the shirt and he pulled this up too. Her skin was exposed. It was very white and very smooth. He lifted the candle closer and looked. There was a lot of dirt and sweat and across her shoulder blades a little to the right side a long purple green bruise and a deep abrasion. There wasn't any blood although the upper skin layers were well scraped. To one end of the bruise was a deeper indentation, he touched it as gently as he could and she winced.

"Mm, hurts."
"Sorry, I'm being as careful as I can."
"I know. You're doing fine. I'm just a silly girl."

The deeper mark at the far end of the bruise was where a bolt head had pressed into her. Just below her shoulder blade. She was so very lucky, her back had fallen between two of the bolts. He looked across at the rim of the cockpit. There was a rolled cloth covering around the rim that gave some protection but the boltheads were still there. He walked the gap with the fingers of one hand. About eight inches apart. He placed the span over the mark on her back. Damn, she was more than just lucky, this was a miracle. One bolt head had pressed into her skin just below the shoulder blade, an inch higher and her (and his) full weight would have landed her blade on it, almost certainly cracking it. The other bolt head must have pressed into the soft skin between two ribs on the other side of her spine although he couldn't feel the indentation, it simply wasn't there. Again an inch or two either way and she'd either have cracked a rib or worse landed her spinal column right on the bolt, and that could have crippled her. He found he was shaking, sweating, but he didn't know why. But he did feel thankful. He let his eyes look at her white smooth skin a moment longer then hurriedly pulled her clothing back down. He rolled her back over. She looked at him.

"Well?"
"You'll be alright there, you landed on the rim of the metal, with some idiot on top of you. But it's just an abrasion. Although you'll have a lovely bruise there and I think it'll be sore for a few days. The skin is roughed up a little but you're not bleeding."

He omitted to tell her that an inch one way and she'd have a shattered shoulder and an inch the other and she might never have walked again. Pazu couldn't stop shaking, and he swallowed hard to calm himself.

"You're very lucky."
"I know. You're here."
"I'm just the idiot who got us in this mess."
"And you're the idiot who'll get us out."

Despite her pain, she grinned at him. Feeling foolish he needed to be busy.

"I need to check your leg. Low down you say?"
"Yes, the ankle I think."
"Right, please try and keep still."
"I don't plan on going dancing any time soon."

He smiled at her, if she could joke about it, things were not so bad. He eased her shoe off. The wide cut pink trousers she had made out of some of Dola's cast-offs had gathered ankles. He'd lost his knife on Laputa too, when he'd given it to Dola. He needed to get to a town and buy some replacement equipment. With no other option he bit through the cloth and stitching. His mouth brushed her skin. He paused.

"Sorry."
"It's alright. I'm sorry I don't taste very nice."

He didn't agree, but he said nothing. He tore at the cloth and loosed the leg.

"Sorry, I'm ruining your clothes."
"No matter, I can sew them again. Doesn't look like I'll be walking for a while, I'll have lots of time for sewing."

He carefully slid the loosened material up the leg, she gritted her teeth. He held the candle close.

"No bleeding. And no broken skin that I can see. If it's a break it's not a compound one. There is a little swelling above the ankle but not much. But no bruising either. Hm. It doesn't look like a break to me. Can you move your foot at all?"
"No, I can't even feel it!"
"Try moving it."
"Can't. Hurts."
"Please try."
"Please, Pazu…"

He could feel the pain in her voice. He put out his hand and held hers. He squeezed.

"Please try. For me?"

He looked at the foot. It was wiggling quite happily as she turned her ankle.

"Pazu, I can't even feel it. I know it's broken."
"Try wiggling your toes."

At once they wiggled, all of them. He smiled.

"Are you cold?"
"No. You asked me that before we reached the coast."
"I'm asking again. Please be honest. Are your feet cold?"

A very small voice.

"Yes."
"Good."
"What?"

He touched a hand to her foot. It was very cold. He slid her other shoe off and held her toes. They were like ice. He was worried about circulation now.

"The reason you can't feel anything is because your feet are almost frozen. We need to get you some better shoes, and some socks."

As well as boots for himself. The shopping list was growing. He gently pressed a hand to the swollen ankle. She winced and closed her eyes, threw her head back. Groaned.

"You know, I think it's just sprained. It just needs a good tight bandage and resting for a few days."
"Are you certain?"
"I'm no doctor but I think so, we'd see sprains and twisted ankles like this all the time back home."

There was a minute's silence.

"Pazu?"
"Hm?"
"What is it?"
"Nothing."

He got up and crawled outside. Then he wiped his eyes, where she wouldn't see him. Home. He thought about home. He realised he missed the Boss, and Okami, and sweet little Madge. When would he go back? Would he ever? When he left with Dola and the pirates he thought he'd already decided he wasn't going back. There wasn't anything for him there. Yet it was home, the only home he had. And what of Sheeta? Her home was a long way away, in the far north. Two opposite directions. Anyway, what would a princess do in Slag's Ravine? No, there was nothing for her there. And if she wasn't there, there would be nothing for him either. He stood for a moment and looked at the night sky. The cold grey-white crescent of Tahro had risen and the lower land toward the ocean was bathed in her pale light. He drew a deep breath, there would be other times to think about such things.

"Sheeta? I'm going to make a fire and try and find some water, we have no food but I can make us some tea. Are you alright for a moment?"
"Yes, my ankle hurts like blazes but I'll be alright. Please don't be long though."

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

Sheeta heard noises outside. He'd been gone a while. His head ducked back under the cockpit rim.

"Hey."
"Hallo."
"Alright?"
"Yes, but sore. And very tired."
"I've got some firewood. I'll get a fire going and boil some water."
"What in?"
"Isn't there a pan or something in there?"
"I never saw one."
"There has to be something, a tin, a lid, anything."
"I don't think so."

He rummaged about in the tool locker, searched the floor. Nothing.

"Ew! You're wet!"
"Uh, yeah. Sorry."
"Why are you all wet?"

She put out a hand to his shirt.

"Urgh, you're soaking!"
"I, er, took a bath."
"Where? And in the middle of the night?"
"In a stream. At the bottom of the hill. Is there a problem?"
"Don't you think that's a little odd?"
"Well, it was there and I was nearby and getting firewood…"
"You fell in."
"I did not!"
"Yes you did, didn't you?"
"I just decided that while I was there, I'd have a wash."
"Fully dressed."
"I took my clothes off and washed them too. It is summer you know, It's quite warm out there."
"You slipped and fell in a stream."
"Alright! Alright! So I fell in a stream."

She laughed, breaking into a fit of giggles. Pazu decided he liked that sound.

"I don't believe it, my hero, a boy who fixes motors on the Tiger Moth, who can fly Flaptors, and rescue princeses from burning towers, who can fight Muska and climb about on a castle in the sky… and he goes into a wood at night and… falls in a stream…"

The giggles became loud laughter. Pazu felt a bit silly, but, well, really he didn't mind. It was good to hear her laughter, at least her injuries weren't that bad.

"Alright, it's not that funny."
"Oh, it is Pazu, it really is! It's so funny! Oh... Oh, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. It's just that, well, you having been such a fantastic person these last few days. And now this."

The giggles began again.

"Back's better then?"
"No, but the laughing is better than the pain."
"Well I thought I needed a bath. I stank. And it looks like we'll be spending the night here, so, well…"

The giggling stopped, she looked at him, in the candlelight he saw her smile.

"Even out here, in the middle of we don't know where, with a broken glider, and a broken princess, you still act the gentleman."
"Well… you know…"
"You decided to wash just so the smell wouldn't offend me?"
"Yeah, well…"
"You're such a good person. Thank you for helping me, Pazu."
"And you, you know… you're not."
"Not what?"
"Silly."
"Who said I was silly?"
"You did. Earlier. When I was checking your back. You said you were a silly girl. I'm just telling you you're not."

She looked at him. His face was downcast.

"Pazu, look at me."

He did so.

"Thank you, you're very sweet."
"Uh, it's nothing."

She smiled at him.

"How about the tool locker cover?"
"Eh?"
"Unscrew it and use it to boil water in."
"Oh. Oh, yes. Great idea."

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

Outside the cockpit the bracken and ferns grew thickly to a height of three or four feet. Pazu had cleared a space in front of their cave entrance scraping it clear down to the bare earth. It was here he had built a fire of timber from the nearby stand of trees and he boiled water in the dish-like tool locker cover. His tin water bottle was all they had to drink from so he made tea in it and they shared mouthfuls. Even without herbs or honey it was still the most delicious tea Sheeta had ever tasted. He had also found some blackberries and collected a hatful of them, so tea and blackberries made their dinner. Pazu had gently slid her outside on the cloth matting that used to protect the floor of the cockpit. He had then checked her ankle in the firelight, washed it gently and bound it with the small first aid kit from the tool locker – two bandages and a bottle of antiseptic paste, all used up in one go, but no matter, it was a good cause. The last of the paste he spread with his fingers on her cut and bruised back. He had had to take her shirt off and lift her vest up to the back of her neck to wash her dirty skin. Using a clean rag he'd found from somewhere he had wet it and wiped her whole back, washing away the dirt and sweat. He saw that she kept her arms folded across her front.

"Mmm," she had commented by way of a gentle moan, "that's nice. In the morning you'll have to show me where this bath of yours is. I feel awful."
"Sure, I'll show you."
"But turn your back and promise me you won't look."
"But you can't walk on that ankle. I'll have to put you in and lift you out."
"You'll just have to promise me you'll shut your eyes then."
"Absolutely. I promise."

Later he picked up some of the fern fronds he'd cut down, made a crude brush of them and swept out the floor inside the overturned cockpit. The wing sail now formed a floor covering, beneath that were crushed ferns, fairly comfortable if a little lumpy. Pazu offered Sheeta the poncho to sleep under, he'd make do with the grimy floor mat and the oversized aviators jacket. It was a warm night anyway, he doubted they'd freeze.

They lay on the ground by the fire. It was late now, midnight almost, and they were both tired. With the wall of uncut bracken around their den it was a cosy place, a secret little hideaway. Pazu lay on his back and pointed out the stars and constellations.

"There's the Maiden of course, everyone knows her. And the Oxen. And over there, low down on the northern horizon by the trees is the Fawn."
"And to the east of the Fawn is the Hunter, and east of him the Wolverine and below him… hmm… the Lizard."

He raised himself on one elbow and looked over at her.

"You know them too?"
"Yes, of course, although you use the western names, the ones I've picked up in the last year or so, the names of Numenaor. I know them better by the northern names, the tongue of Oistrakh-Auera. Peadlth-Or, Tho-Brwnweg, Maerth-Dhu, Al Bannir..." (1)

The names rolled off her tongue like music, like an ancient poem or dark ages saga, which if course was understandable as the names came from those days, days when the Laputans had lived aloft and never walked the earth. To them the earth was dark and formless and irrelevant, and the sky… well... the sky was their everything. They lived in it, they walked in it. It was… simply… them. Their music sang of it and their poems praised it and the gods who dwelt in it.

"…Oudsh-Tadlre, Beannoth, and, of course The Hearth." (1)
"The Hearth? That doesn't sound like Oistrakh?"
"No."

Sheeta offered no other explanation. Pazu wished for one but chose to let it drop.

"It's late, we should rest."
"Hm."

He once again assisted her into the cover of the cockpit although she said she was quite warm enough and would like to lay in the entrance where the night air and the night smells could reach her.

"Sure, I planned to sleep outside anyway. I love the night sky. Sometimes at Slag Ravine we'd work a vein of ore all night because the train to the docks would be leaving in the morning and the more ore we could load onto the wagons, the better dinner we'd have in our bellies the next day. So I'd be in charge of the winding engine and would only have to run it once every two hours when the men changed shifts. So I'd lie awake under the night sky and think about things."
"What sort of things?"
"Oh, the usual things. What I wanted to do when I grew up, the big rich mine I'd own, maybe. Where I would fly my plane when I'd built it. The woman I'd marry, the kids I'd have."
"Do you want a family? Children?"
"Hm, sure. One day. Not yet though."
"Why not?"
"I'm not old enough yet. I want to see the world, have adventures."
"Well, you've done that now."

He chuckled.

"Uh, suppose so. But I've not met the woman I want to marry yet."
"Oh. Really?"
"Well, I think we should sleep."
"Yes. Good night Pazu."
"'Night Sheeta, sweet dreams."

There was a short silence.

"Pazu?"
"Hm?"
"It really was a beautiful landing. Thank you."
"No, a good landing is one you can walk away from. I seem to have messed this one up a little."
"In the circumstances I think you did superbly."
"Really? Thanks. But, uh, next time I'll do us one we can both walk away from."

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

"Pazu?"
"Mmmm…?"

It was ten minutes later, and he was almost asleep. Drifting in that warm hazy twilight between waking and sleeping where his mind found it hard to grasp anything but he wasn't yet unconscious. A delicious warm twilight, like late summer evenings.

"My feet. My toes."
"What about them?"
"They're still freezing. It's these thin shoes."
"Wait."

He got up, picked up the floor mat that was his mattress and laid it across the opening of the cave, part in, part out near her feet. He lay himself on it, his head inside the overhang of the cockpit, on the uphill side of the slope, and on his side facing her feet. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt and wiggled toward her so her feet were touching him. He slipped her shoes off.

"Mind my ankle."
"Sure."

He picked up one of her small white icy feet and slipped it into his shirt. He winced as the icy flesh touched him where he was hot. He got comfortable and slipped the little cold pretty thing into his armpit where his body heat was warmest. He did the same with the other foot, pressing it onto his chest. Laying on his side facing her he dragged the aviators coat over himself and pulled his workman's peaked cap low over his eyes.

"Night."

Sheeta curled her neck so she could see down her body and see his small bundled shape. Soon her feet grew warm and comfortable, the feeling came back into her little toes at last and they tingled. She wiggled them.

"Hm, keep still. Tickles."
"I never thought you'd be the sort of person to be ticklish."
"Well I am, now be still and go to sleep."
"Thank you Pazu. And good night."
"Good night not-silly girl."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 - 3 March 2007

(1) The tongue of Gondoa, known as Oistrakh-Auera (or the singing voice) is something I am developing as this story goes on and Sheeta will speak more of it, often in times of anger or other stress. For now, here are some translations, a full English-Oistrakh dictionary will be put up on my forum and I'll add words to it as they are used in the story. There are several Gondoan words used in the movie if you look for them, and they formed the basis of this idea.

Al Bannir :: lizard with his skin, as in full grown
Auer :: voice, speak, also something from inside the body as in showing feelings
Beannoth :: young deer, fawn
Maerth-Dhu :: wolf giant, wolf god or spirit, also the spirit of darkness, lies and night.
Oistra :: to sing or call out, usually a happy feeling
Oistrakh-Auera :: the singing voice, the tongue of Gondoa
Oudsh-Tadlre :: spinning wheel
Peadlth-Or :: running man (hunter)
Tho-Brwnweg :: young woman (virgin, maiden)

and, of course The Hearth. I'm not going to tell you about the Hearth yet, nor its Gondoan translation, it is however a very strong symbol for Laputans and there is a constellation named for it. Sheeta spoke this word in English for a good reason here, to be revealed later.

For author notes about Chapter Three, please see my forum (click on my pen name)