Kurenai's Web
Summer Days
The early summer days on a farm are the happiest and fairest days of the year. Lilacs bloom and make the air sweet, and then fade. Apple blossoms come with the lilacs, and the bees visit around the apple trees. The days grow warm and soft. School ends, and children have time to play and to fish for trout in the brook. Neji often brought a trout home, warm and stiff and ready to be fried for supper.
Now that school was over, Hinata visited the barn almost everyday, to sit quietly on her stool. The animals treated her as an equal. the sheep lay calmly at her feet.
Around the first of July, the work horses were hitched to the mowing machine, and Mr. Nara climbed into the seat and drove into the field. All morning, one could hear the rattle of the machine as it went round and round, while the tall grass fell down behind the cutter bar in long green swathes. Next day, if there was no thundershower, all hands would help rake and pitch and load, and the hay would be hauled into the barn in the high hay wagon, with Hinata and Neji riding at the top of the load. Then the hay would be hoisted, sweet and warm, into the big loft, until the whole barn seemed like a wonderful bed of timothy and clover. It was fine to jump in, and perfect to hide in. And sometimes Neji would find a little grass snake in the hay, and would add it to the other things in his pocket.
Early summer days are a jubilee time for birds. In the fields, around the house, in the barn, in the woods, in the swamp- everywhere love and songs and nests and eggs. From the edge of the woods, the white-throated sparrow (which must come all the way from Kumo) calls, "Oh Kirabi, Kirabi, Kirabi!" On an apple bough, the phoebe teeters and wags its tail and it says, "Phoebe, phoe-bee!" The song sparrow who knows how brief and lovely life is, says, "Sweet, sweet, sweet interlude; sweet, sweet, sweet interlude." If one enters the barn, the swallows swoop down from their nests and scold. "Cheeky, cheeky!" they say.
In early summer there are plenty of things for a child to eat and drink and suck and chew. Dandelion stems are full of milk, clover heads are loaded with nectar, and the Frigidaire is full of ice-cold drinks. Everywhere there is life; even the little ball of spit on the weed stalk, when poked apart, has a green worm inside it. And on the underside of the potato vine are the bright orange eggs of the potato bug.
It was on one of those early summer days that the goose eggs hatched. It was an important event in the barn cellar. Hinata was there, sitting on her stool, when it happened.
Except for Konan herself, Kurenai was the first to know that the goslings had finally arrived. Konan knew a day in advance that they were coming- she could hear their weak voices calling from within the egg. She knew that they were in a desperately cramped position inside the shell and were most anxious to break through and get out. So she sat quite still, and talked less than usual.
When the first gosling poked its grey-green head through Konan's feathers and looked around, Kurenai spied it and made the announcement.
"I am sure that every one of us here will be gratified to learn that after four weeks of unremitting effort and patience on the part of our friend Konan, she now has something to show for it. The goslings have arrived. May I offer my sincere congratulations!"
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" said Konan, nodding and bowing shamelessly.
"Thank you," said Nagato.
"Congratulations!" shouted Gaara. "How many goslings are there? I can only see one."
"There are seven," Konan replied.
Kurenai beamed. "That's wonderful! Seven is a lucky number."
"Luck had nothing to do with this," said Konan. "It was good management and hard work."
At this point, Sasuke poked his nose from his hiding place under Gaara's trough. He glanced at Hinata, then crept cautiously towards Konan, keeping close to the wall. Everyone was watching him for his was not trusted, not well-liked.
"Look," he began sharply. "You say you have seven goslings, but there were eight eggs. What happened to the other egg? Why didn't it hatch?"
Konan shrugged. "It's a dud, I guess."
"What are you going to do it?" Sasuke continued, fixing his sharp, red eyes on the goose.
"You can have it," Konan replied. "Roll it away and add it to that nasty collection of yours." (Sasuke had a habit of picking up unusual objects around the farm and storing them in his home. He saved everything.)
"Certainly-ertainly-ertainly," Nagato quipped. "You may have the egg, But I'll tell you one thing, Sasuke, if I ever catch you poking-oking-oking your ugly nose around our goslings, I'll give you the worst pounding a rat ever took." At this, the gander opened his strong wings and beat the air to show his power. He was strong and brave, but the truth was, both Konan and Nagato were worried about Sasuke, and with good reason. The rat had no morals, no conscience, no scruples, no consideration, no decency, no milk of rodent kindness, no compunctions, no higher feeling, no anything. He would kill a gosling if he could get away with it- Konan knew it. Everybody knew it.
With her broad bill, Konan pushed the unhatched egg out of her nest, and the entire company watched in disgust while the rat rolled it away. Even Gaara, who could eat almost anything was appalled. "Imagine wanting a junky old rotten egg!" he muttered.
"A rat is a rat," said Kurenai. "She laughed a tinkling little laugh. "But, my friends, if that ancient egg ever breaks, this barn will be untenable."
"What's that mean?" asked Gaara.
"It means that nobody will be able to live here on account of the smell," Kurenai answered. "A rotten egg is a regular stink bomb."
"I won't break it," snarled Sasuke. "I know what I'm doing. I handle stuff like this all the time."
He disappeared into his tunnel, pushing the goose egg in front of him. He pushed and nudged until he succeeded in rolling it into his lair under the trough.
That afternoon when the wind had died down and the barnyard was quiet and warm, Konan led her seven goslings off the nest and out into the world. Mr. Nara spied them when he came with Gaara's supper.
"Well, hello there!" he said, beaming all over. "Let's see… One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven baby geese. Now isn't that lovely!"