it was nightime in the forest, and the trees shook slightly by the chill wind blowing from the mountains high above. in a small clearing in the forest there stood a hut, called by this times "the hut of Garlad". It's small windows shone brightly in a yellowish glow.
the front door of the hut - or the back door, you couldn't tell - was coloured in faded dark green. on the upper part of the door something was dangling in the wind.
it seemed to be a sign.
Kirk jumped out from behind the berry's bush where he was hiding.
he advanced in a cancer walk close to the earth towards the door, all the time trying hard not to be seen from any of the small windows. he was very twitchy and nervous. he kept jerking his head backwards at every faint sound.
he examined closely the sign on the door. it said "heer liv mastr garlad in pis n kuayet. plis do not deestarb." kirk let the sign slip from his hands. he jumped off the threshold and began cancer-walking again around the hut.
master garlad, the master of the forest of Randon. he now was sitting in his favourite armchair by the fire (wondering why on earth was he still keeping the other armchair if no one but himself was living here) , humming to himself and knitting a new pair of socks for the grumble-children.
the wind blew outside but he was warm and comfortable in his little but beloved hut. a hard rain began to fall.
suddenly there was a faint but audible knock from somewhere, but not from the door. garlad stopped knitting and gazed around with narrowing eyes. as there seemed to be no more knockings, though he didn't thought that he was imagining it, garlad turned back to the unfinished socks resting on his knees.
but before he could even seize them again, there was one more knock, now stronger then before. and now garlad could also tell from where it was coming. he looked in surprise at his north-west window, the one with the cobwebs. there, pressed hard against the cold glass, were some weird face of some unknown creature. garlad managed not to drop his knitting work, though he was indeed very surprised.
he went to the window and pressed his own face against it.
"what now?"
but whoever was in the other side of the window couldn't hear him.
"why didn't he came by the door like everyone?" murmured garlad and unlocked the window, letting the poor wet and trembling creature and the cold wind and rain get in.
kirk has fallen to the floor all wet and trembling and cold and feeling quite miserable. when he looked up he saw the old forest-goblin standing over him looking at him with his eyes narrowed.
"i - im so sorry, master garlad," he mumbled, very quietly. "i - i just have to ask you something."
"go on, then," said garlad.
"i - i - i wanted to ask whether you would teach me how to be a wizard."
"a wizard?"
"oh, yes," squeaked kirk. "yes, i want to be a wizard!"
"well," said garlad. "get off the floor first, you are wetting my parquet."
kirk hurried to get up and almost knocked over the flower-vase.
"come and sit here," garlad nodded towards the other armchair, the one he didn't use.
kirk faltered towards it and sat down.
"now, what would you like to drink, eh?"
"a - a cup of tea, please. if it - it ain't bothering you."
"oh, it's ok."
after a few minutes they were both seated in their armchairs, wrapped in blankets and drinking their hot tea with some milk.
"now then, go on," said garlad.
kirk drew a deep breath, as though preparing himself, and begun.
"i remember when i was born, master, yes, i have a very good memory, master. it was painful. not only the thing itself, i mean, to be born and to draw my first breath, but also afterwards, when i had my first dream tha' firs' night.
i've dreamed about a wizard, a forest-wizard, see? know wha' i mean? he was good in the forest more then in the mountains or in the desert or anywhere else, though he could do whatever he liked wherever he was.
well then, in my dream he was wondering all over the forest, helping every creature tha' needed help. he was also fixing damages, plants tha' were torn off the earth, trees tha' were cut, flowers and stuff.
"ever since tha' dream i wanted to be a wizard, a good-forest-wizard, like in my dream. i want to help the plants and the trees and the flowers and the animals, see? now don't you think it's nice to do this stuff?" and kirk had a dreamy smile spread over his face. his eyes weren't fixed and he was gazing unblinkingly at some spot over garlad's shoulder.
garlad cleared his throat. kirk jerked back to reality in a stupid blink.
"well, m'boy," said garlad. "i think we have a problem here."
"a - a problem, master?"
"yes, um - what's your name again?"
"kirk."
"kirk. the problem is that you can't just go and become a wizard, even if you want to. if everybody wanted to become wizards then imagine how the world would be like, thunderstorms all around and fires and from the other side loads of big houses and weird places and everything's so big and powerful and no one can come over the other because each one is more powerful then the other. have i got myself clear?"
kirk blinked stupidly again.
"ah - yes."
"so, how d'you gonna get back home? do you need me to do something else for you?"
"what? home? oh, no, i can't go back there."
"can't? what do you mean?"
"they have sacked me."
"oh, they did, did they?" said garlad in sadness. "what for?"
"for trying to make ogluk's deers trained to get out of their corral without running away and to stay in the village area."
"oh, dear. What for!?"
"what what for?"
"what have you tried to get them trained to stay in the village area for?"
"because they were all miserable and crammed together in that tiny corral!"
garlad sighed deeply. "oh, here it goes again, just like when this bloke atmosd tried to convince me to make him a bird back in '56." he muttered under his breath.
"im sorry, what did you say?" asked kirk.
"oh, nothing, nothing at all," said garlad. "i've decided that you will stay here for the rest of the night" (he glanced over the fireplace at the old grandfather-clock which showed 2:00 a.m) "and in the morning we will decide the rest."
kirk nodded hopefully.
אני רוצה להסביר את עצמי (למה אני כותבת באנגלית). אני לא יודעת למה אני מעדיפה לכתוב באנגלית, אבל אני לא כל כך אוהבת לכתוב ולקרוא בעברית למרות שזאת שפת האם שלי, ובדרך כלל כשיש לי השראה הדברים פשוט יוצאים באנגלית. אני יודעת שיש לי בוודאי שגיאות אבל אני עובדת על זה. אז אני מקווה שלא אכפת לקהילה פה שאני כותבת באנגלית למרות שזה כעיקרון אתר ישראלי ויש אנשים שחשוב להם שהכל יהיה בעברית. אבל זה איך שזה יוצא אצלי. אז תודה
