Aang the Brave
Chapter Five
One hundred years ago many agreed that the Air Nomads were some of the kindest people in the world. Their gentle souls shone in their eyes and their smiles. In fact, the fable of the gracious nomad was very popular at the time, and almost every child could recite it.
The young nomad in the story was a poor man, as was true of most nomads. His only possession was the long white robe he wore. Although he had little, he was happy and content with his life. This, too, was true of most nomads.
One day, as he traveled through the mountains the nomad heard a deep, low moaning. The sorrow of the sound sunk into his bones. The moan echoed, tumbled off the mountainside, and rolled in the wind. Something in the mountains was suffering. He had to find the source.
He climbed for a very long time, and finally reached the top of the mountain. Lying in the powdery snow was a bison. It groaned in pain. Its white fur was stained with red.
Without a second thought, the nomad pulled off his robe and used it to wrap the bison's wound. "You silly man," the bison said in his slow, rumbling voice. "You will freeze to death!" But the nomad was persistent. His white robe was stained crimson but, as time passed, the falling snow paled it to the color of rust. The wind howled and bit at the nomad, but he stayed with the bison, day and night, until its wound healed.
When it was strong enough, the bison stood and stretched, feeling better than ever. It turned to the nomad. "I must thank you," it said. "What can I give you in exchange for your kindness?"
Despite his coldness and hunger the nomad laughed. "My friend, I ask for nothing. My payment is the knowledge that you are well."
"I must repay you, but I have only one thing to give," the bison insisted, shaking its giant body from its woolly head to its long, flat tail. And he said to the nomad, "I will teach you to fly."
The nomads have been flying ever since, and they've been gracious ever since. Kindness, gentleness, acceptance—these were the codes they lived by.
They had no other option, because one thing the great beast failed to mention was that a bison's saddle could be a very cramped space.
--
Jinju's entire body heaved with each wheezing breath. Li stroked his back in an awkward attempt to soothe him. Awakening from his stupor, Aang climbed over the saddle's rim. "Is he okay?" he asked, crawling towards Jinju and Li. Before he reached them he was intercepted by Yuka's feet. He loomed over Aang, his face eerily shadowed.
"You mind explaining what the hell's going on?" His voice was soft, deceptively calm, but his words were clipped.
"You were right, Yuka. There really were people on that island," Aang said.
Yuka lifted his fists to his temples, as if he were trying to squeeze out a headache. Aang was surprised. He had expected a satisfied smirk or a smug "See, what'd I tell you?" Instead, Yuka muttered, "You've got to be kidding me."
"What exactly did you see?" Li asked from Jinju's side.
"The eyes. When we were in the creek we could see them in the trees. It was just like he said." Aang couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through his body.
"Foxes have eyes," Li said after a moment. "Bats have eyes. Monkeys have eyes. You saw an animal out there and let your imagination get carried away. It was nothing more than that."
"But what about that lady?" Jinju whispered. He had settled down enough to take deep, rhythmic breaths while Li's hand held a steady, waving tempo.
"We saw her, Yuka. She was standing on the beach. Just like you said," Aang exclaimed. Surely Yuka would believe both of them. It was his story after all, the one he insisted was true.
Yuka sat and put his head in his hands. Aang almost thought he would cry. After a moment, he looked up, dragging his hands along his face until they met at his chin. "So, you're saying," he began thoughtfully, "that you woke me up in the middle of the night—for the second time tonight—when I haven't had a decent night's sleep in days, and made me chase a bison," his voice took on a slightly crazed tone, "because you were afraid of a lady standing on the beach? Is this what you're saying?"
He made it sound so trivial. This was, quite possibly, the most terrifying experience of Aang's life, and Yuka managed to make it sound like...kid's stuff!
"I know what I-" he began, but was interrupted by Li.
"Why don't we go back now? Not to stay," he appended when Aang and Jinju began to protest. "But we left all our stuff there."
He was right. In his panic Aang had forgotten all about the tent with their gear inside. All they had was what they had been carrying. Aang glanced at Jinju who shook his head emphatically. He shrugged an apology. They really didn't have a choice.
"We'll go back. But just to get our stuff. We're not staying."
"We'll be gone before you can say 'cannibalism,' I promise," Li said and as an afterthought added, "But first do everyone a favor, and put on some clothes."
--
"Please, please, let us find the island," Aang whispered to any spirits who might have been listening. "I promise I'll never skip another meditation, and I'll stop hiding animals in my room, and I'll never ever touch another melon for as long as I live."
He had good intentions. He meant to go back to the island, he really did. But there were two intrinsic flaws with that plan.
First of all, he had no idea where they were. On all sides they were surrounded by water. By looking at the stars he could tell that they were now heading southwest. But which way had they flown off the island? Which side of the island had they been camped on? Had they turned around after their crash landing? He hadn't been paying attention, being more worried about having his eyes gouged out by cannibals. He didn't mention any of this to his companions, but tried to steer Appa in what he hoped was the right direction.
Secondly, they weren't moving. He had been struggling to stay awake by picking splinters from the soles of his feet when the sound of Appa's throaty breathing had alerted him. He leaned over to find the bison's eye closed, the water bubbling with every exhale. The perpetual waves gave the illusion of steady movement, but Aang realized that they were not, in fact, swimming or making any progress. Appa was drifting aimlessly, fast asleep. He tried waking Appa by shouting in his ear, but he couldn't shout for real because then the boys behind him would know that something was wrong, so he sort of whisper-shouted, and that didn't work at all. He even tried stomping Appa's head with his feet. Appa only grunted irritably, once shaking his head so hard that Aang almost toppled right off. Finally, Aang relented. If a ten-ton bison didn't want to listen, then what was a sixty-pound kid going to do about it?
He didn't mention this either, but it didn't take them long to figure it out.
"You don't know how to get back, do you?" He tensed when he heard Yuka's voice behind him.
Aang's stomach dropped at the thought of telling Yuka the truth. He was already on Yuka's bad side—not a place he wanted to be. He stuttered excuses. "It's so dark, and Appa's exhausted, and..." He trailed off because the fact was that they were lost at sea and it was his fault.
Aang could see Yuka's fingers grip the saddle as he glared down at him. "I swear," he growled, "if I wasn't dead tired right now, I'd beat your-"
"Then go to sleep, because you're not helping anyone by making stupid threats," Li interjected from further back. Aang couldn't see Li from his seat on Appa's head, but he saw Yuka's face twist at the comment.
"I don't see you doing anything, lemur head." He turned and disappeared again, but Aang could still hear his angry voice. "You're supposed to be so brilliant, why don't you get off your ass and do something?" Li said something that Aang couldn't hear, then suddenly he was climbing over the front of the saddle, and Aang moved over to make room.
Li surveyed their surroundings—the sea, the sky. He leaned over the side of Appa's head to study the closed eye, and Aang held onto the back of his shirt, afraid he would fall. Finally, he turned to Aang. "Why don't you get some sleep? There's not much we can do now, but maybe things will look better in the morning," he said, tugging at the sparse hair on his chin. He didn't sound very confident, and he didn't even attempt to fake a reassuring smile.
"No, I'll stay," Aang said and Li just shrugged. He knew he was being stubborn, but he didn't want to go back to the saddle with Yuka. He was almost as scary as the cannibals now.
He tried to stay awake with Li, but the rocking of the waves was so calming, the sound of them was almost like a lullaby, and his eyelids were so heavy, and he was so, so sleepy.
When he finally drifted into fitful sleep, he dreamed of a banquet where his eyes and fingers were passed around on a platter, and his bones were boiled to make Aang stock for soup.
--
Instead of bringing clarity and insight, the morning light only illuminated the hopelessness of their situation. Aang woke up very early that morning, even before the sun rose. The world around him was bathed in dull, gray light with no source. He looked about groggily, wincing at the cramp in his neck.
Only when he realized that his head was resting on Li's shoulder did he awaken completely. He inched away, careful not to wake the other boy. He was sure the day would bring enough smart comments from Yuka; he didn't need Li teasing him, too.
Normally, Li would be awake right now, meditating. But this wasn't a normal morning, and Li was out cold. Appa's reins were still in his hand, his head was thrown back, and his mouth was wide open. Very ungentlemanly, in Aang's opinion. He wondered if he should try to push Li's mouth closed since sleeping like that was sure to make his throat very dry, and they didn't have any water to drink.
No water. The two words dropped to his stomach like rocks. They didn't have any food either. Maybe, if things got really dire, they could go a few days without eating. But without water, people could die...
No, don't overreact, he told himself. That's what got you here in the first place. What's done is done. Now focus on finding a solution. That meant getting Appa to move.
The sun had begun to rise as a pinkish glob behind him. They were facing west. The very least he could do was turn Appa in the right direction. Laying on his stomach, he leaned over Appa's head. "Are you awake, boy?" he whispered. Appa's eye opened and rolled lazily toward him. "Good. We need to turn around, okay?"
Gently, Aang removed the reins from Li's limp hand. He pulled on them, adding the slightest pressure with his foot. Slowly, Appa revolved in the water until Aang could feel the sun warming the right side of his face. Not a bad start. The slightest twinge of hope fluttered in his chest. Maybe things really weren't as bad as they looked. "Looks like a great day for flying. What do you say, buddy?"
A short snort from Appa, almost a laugh. So much for that. But he wasn't quite ready to give up.
"Sure is going to be a close race this year," he yawned nonchalantly, leaning back. "Just close your eyes and imagine it, Appa. Are they closed?" He checked; they were. Aang closed his eyes, too. "It's the final lap, only the fastest fliers. We're all neck-and-neck, and everyone's flying in one big group. Suddenly a lone bison pulls out in front. It's you, Appa! We're speeding away from everyone. Then we dive into the valley, and we can hardly see anything because of the mist." Even as he spoke Aang could smell the valley, damp, cold, and deep.
"Then, out of nowhere, something darts beneath us. Did you see it? It's the kid who beat us last year. That's the same trick he used on us before." Aang could see the boy in his mind's eye, huddled low over his bison's head, squinting against the wind. His hair was slicked to his head and the bison's fur lay flat to its body, streamlined. The boy looked up at Aang and winked before dodging into the valley. Some nerve!
"Appa, are you going to let him get away with it again?" A grunt which Aang took to mean "no." "Then come on and YIP-YIP!" Aang bellowed, snapping the reins fiercely. He laughed triumphantly as Appa's head reared and the water churned around his legs. They were going to fly! They were going to—
With something like a chuckle, Appa settled back into the water. Aang scowled, crossing his arms indignantly. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you?"
He glanced at Li, who had somehow dozed through the entire thing. Now his chin rested on his chest, and he slurped noisy snores with every inhale. In, out...slurp, sigh, and it was to this rhythm that a dejected Aang watched the sunrise.
--
Aang could tell that the day was going to be tough when Yuka woke up without a single mean word for him. He didn't say anything at all, which was worse because it meant that he could burst at any moment, so Aang was on edge.
Li, too, had barely uttered a word. Aang knew he was upset because he skipped morning meditation. Aang had watched him trying, but Li had fidgeted and shifted so much that finally he just gave up. He must have been depressed because he left his staff on the island with the rest of their stuff. Aang felt really awful about that. It was terrible for an Airbender to lose his staff, like walking around naked but a little less embarrassing. Not to mention how much trouble you'd get in once the monks found out, especially if you were old enough to have a custom made staff like Li's, instead of somebody else's old one. Aang told Li that he would take the blame, and Jinju had even offered his own staff, saying he wasn't really good with it anyway. But Li just muttered, "Too small for me," which was true, and then he hunched up and pulled the back of his orange cape over his head like a tent, and didn't say anything else.
And then there was Jinju who didn't get that Aang was trying to ignore him and kept trying to talk to him. Finally Aang abandoned the saddle and stayed on Appa's head where he could be alone. He was too mad at Jinju to talk to him, and with good reason. He had come to the conclusion that it was entirely Jinju's fault that they were stranded.
First of all, it was Jinju who had stolen Aang's marbles, just so he could bribe him with them. It was Jinju who brought up the stupid thing about the melons. It was Jinju who couldn't even stay still in his sleep. It was Jinju who completely humiliated him and made him lose his temper. It was Jinju who spooked him in the forest, who could hardly even Airbend, who smelled weird, who pulled his pants up to his armpits, who didn't even try to stop people from making fun of him, who just sat there and let them, who probably deserved to be teased anyway.
And now, it was Jinju who was making a sound that reminded Aang of baby lemurs mewing for their mother.
Aang peeked over the saddle. Jinju was crying. He had his head in his arms, trying to hide his face, but he was making so much noise. Yuka had his back turned. Li didn't move.
"What is it, Jinju?" Aang asked, but what he really wanted to say was "Shut up!" There was no answer. "Jinju!" He kept whimpering.
Aang jumped into the saddle. He crouched next to Jinju and tried to make his voice sound kinder when he saw the boy's shoulders trembling with every sob. "What's wrong? What are you crying about?"
Jinju sniffed loudly, and he didn't look up as he answered softly, "I left all my marbles back there. Every one of them's still on that island."
Aang was dumbfounded. He could not believe what he was hearing. His fists and jaw clenched, his eyes shot daggers at the top of Jinju's head. Aang opened his mouth, but the words that came out were unexpected and wrong and completely irrational. "How could you?" he yelled. "Those were my marbles, too—you were supposed to give them back! That's the only reason I brought you! And you lost them! Why can't you do anything right?" He stood and glared down at Jinju, like Yuka had done to him last night. He hoped he looked just as intimidating.
Jinju lifted his face, wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve. "Please don't be mad, Aang," he pleaded.
"I should've never let you come. I knew you'd ruin everything. I hate you!" Jinju jerked as if he had been kicked. His mouth moved, but no words came out. "I hate you!" Aang repeated, hating the sound of his voice, not even recognizing it.
"You are pathetic." It was Yuka. Aang swallowed as the teenager stood and moved toward him. "Just when I'm thinking you're not a complete idiot, you prove me wrong." He swept his arms wide. "We're stuck in the middle of the ocean with no food, no water, no map, no compass, no idea where the hell we are because your stupid pile of lard-"
"Don't talk about Appa like that!" Aang interrupted, but Yuka ignored him.
"-and you're arguing about marbles! What the hell is wrong with you?" He pushed Aang hard. Aang stumbled backward but didn't fall. He glanced at Li, waiting for the sarcastic quip to stop Yuka, but he was still hunched in his human tent. Jinju wouldn't even look at him. Nobody was going to help him.
Aang took a deep breath. "All we can do now is try to make the best out of it," he said. "I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"
"I want you do something about it. This is your fault." He pushed him again.
"Stop it!"
"Why should I?" Yuka smirked dangerously. "You're just gonna let me push you around? You're not even gonna try to defend yourself?" Another shove.
"I don't want to fight you!"
"Coward." Shove. "Wimp." Shove. "Girl." Shove. "Do something."
His fists were shaking by his side. His heart raced. "Don't touch me!"
Yuka stopped. He studied Aang. He said, "I don't need to," and Aang saw his arms sweep to his side, saw them trace wide circles in the air, knew what was going to happen, but couldn't react.
Aang flew back, hurled and spun across the saddle by the invisible force. He collided with the edge of the saddle, crushing his stomach and knocking the wind out of him. He somersaulted over the side. The world whizzed and tossed before his eyes, blue sky, his own feet, Appa's horn—way too close—and then the water. He had time to take one shallow breath before he plunged in.
The cold water shocked him, and he kicked furiously to the shimmering surface. He reached the air, and gasping, clung to Appa's fur. His mind was a whirlpool of disjointed thoughts and sounds—people yelling, an animal moaning gravely, endless waves. He felt hands grabbing at his arms and shirt, tried to climb, couldn't. He let Li and Jinju fish him out.
They dragged him onto the saddle, and he collapsed holding his stomach and biting his lip. He looked up just in time to see Yuka disappear over the other side of the saddle, getting as far away from them as he could—Appa's tail. I'm not a coward, Aang thought after him, unable to speak. I'm not a coward. But he hoped that Appa would flip Yuka into the ocean, almost hoped he would drown.
