Fly Garuda

The guests had gone. The hall was practically empty. Melvyn stood apprehensive and a little anxious with a select group of interested parties, discussing Melvyn’s forthcoming journey. Bomoh Clark had been given the unenviable task of explaining what was to happen to a slightly disgruntled, and somewhat bushwhacked Melvyn.

So you see we must grab that phial, before Djinba does, otherwise, Melvyn, it will mean disaster for us all. Clark was saying

Ok Clark I can get that, but I don’t see why it has to be me

You are the only one Melvyn, it’s difficult to explain but none of us have your abilities, and quite frankly, your luck

Luck, luck, what’s luck to do with it

Melvyn, for some reason you seem to be protected, lucky we call it, charmed some might say

Not charming then, just charmed. Melvyn just couldn’t help quip.

Come of it Melvyn you are the luckiest man I know

Lucky, is it - I’m so lucky to have my wife kidnapped and my surgery turned upside down.

Melvyn it could have been worse, and no doubt if it wasn’t for us all – your friends, it would have been much worse, think about that.

And think Melvyn did, while Clark explained the details of Melvyn’s forthcoming little trip. Then suddenly, as the realisation hit him.

Garuda, that’s a fish isn’t it. You want me to fly to this island and rescue a bottle on the back of some sort of damn fish.

Actually it’s not a fish Melvyn, you’re thinking of garoupa, Garuda - it’s a sort of large mythological bird – bit like an eagle.

Ah I now remember, hold on, hold on, you’re joking right - right, the last was said as Melvyn’s tone went up a pitch

Next thing you’ll be telling me is that you’re going to send a king of bloody monkeys with me and together we’re going to rescue a Princess on the way.

Clark gave Melvyn a blank stare.

Sorry Melvyn I’m not with you.

Rama, Sita, Hanuman, duh! No.

By the sound of it you won’t be with me on my little trip either.

Clark still remained blank.

So let me get this absolutely, One hundred and one percent straight Melvyn was saying.

You’re going to send me to a mythical island, on the back of some sort of mythical bird, and all I have to do there is rescue a small bottle which seems to hold the fate of the world in its glassy little hands, (mmm glass doesn’t have hands, does it)

– what have you all been smoking. Said Melvyn in a much raised, incredulous, voice.

Princess Sri Ayu and the old sage, who had been talking together, both turned at Melvyn’s exclamation, looked, realised it was Melvyn, and continued with their intense conversation.

Yep, that’s about the size of it. Said a chirpier than he felt, Clark.

Bizarre, absolutely bloody bizarre said Melvyn under his breath.

Er, said Melvyn.

Won’t this Garuda bird thing be kind of obvious, a big thing like that flying through the air.

Its invisible said Clark.

Invisible Melvyn raised one eyebrow and a quirky smile fluttered over his lips.

Yes, it’s like the hantu, people only see what they want to see.

Melvyn’s expression could only be described as - yeah right, a term he picked up from Just-Abangah.

Come, Melvyn, it’s time you saw the bird.

And, with that, Clark tugged at Melvyn’s sleeve, encouraging him to follow.

As with other Bunian passages the way was long, and, as they were going uphill, they both found it a bit exhausting. After half-an-hour they came face to face with a larger than usual door, guarded by four Bunian.

Clark proffered a small scroll bearing a seal, which was inspected by one of the Bunian, quite possibly of higher rank than the others, then the guards stood aside allowing Clark to open the moss and leather clad door. Inside the rock passageway, towering above them the ceiling was much taller, like the hall they had just come from, and the light little dimmer, so Clark and Melvyn eased forward carefully.

After a minute or two they came to a corner. Clark motioned for Melvyn to flatten against the wall then the two of them peeked around the corner.

There was a huge cave opening. In the distance, at the very entrance to the cave and framed against the eternal blue of the morning sky, was a large man-like being - maybe thirty feet tall, its body shone a rich golden colour and was naked.

As it turned at a sound Melvyn could see a white face with a large parrot like beak, and noticed that red feathered wings hung from this creature where arms might be on an ordinary man. But this was no ordinary man, this was the Garuda. Some people said that once there was whole race of such beings originating in a place called Lanka, but now, many centuries later, this was the one surviving being of that lost race of half men.

The sun glinting off its body gave the appearance of golden statue, but there was nothing petrified about this being, as it stood they gazing across the landscape its huge muscles flexing and twitching as if eager to be gone.

Melvyn was at once a little terrified and in awe of this creature. He had never seen anything quite like this before, and found the creature was slightly more fascinating than it was scary. Melvyn took one last look, as if to burn this image into some part of his memory, then turned and followed Clark back down the corridor, through the door and out. Throughout the short journey back to his room, Melvyn was very thoughtful.

The Garuda had been conscious of being watched, but being so deep into his despair and depression he gave it no thought. It had been eons since his race had disappeared from the earth, and eons he had carried the weight of it, the longing to be with his kind, the misery of his loneliness.

In torturously vivid dreams he would still recall the splendour as he flew above Lanka, his friends and family flying with him, or seen majestically in the distance revelling in the winds and warm thermals.

In those times bright palaces of the Garuda race adorned with spires, cupolas and minarets sparkled in the constant sun, reflecting the splendour of the isle, blending in with nature, creatively enhancing the scenery in a delicate balance.

Incandescent rugs lined their marble walls and jewels hung from silks and satins. All finery was theirs. Gold, silver, onyx, shiny precious metals, glistening jewels from across the oceans all gave beauty to their palaces and courts. They sang ethereal songs to the moon, composed sonnets to the sun and greeted every day as a gift from the eternal maker of all.

It was time before man, before the history of man had begun, a time of freedom and peace. But then came man with his wars and his violence, and the hunt began. Gradually the creatures of the time before man dwindled and disappeared, leaving only a fraction hidden, like the Bunian and he.

He was, as far as he knew, the last of his noble kind, now too far into his depression, too subservient to care about the world and what happened to it. The Bunian fed him, gave him shelter, sometimes company, and in return he did what they requested, which, often, wasn’t much.

Today he would take the trip that he had promised the princess, to the north, carry whomsoever she wished him to carry on his big, strong, back, and not think about the past.