Liberty: A Wandering Wondering.
This is a short story that I recently wrote on the subject of liberty. I hope you enjoy it!
Dedicated to my dear sister Amani; I would always free you from anything!
Liberty Mortimer. It’s a good name, her mother had said, an interesting name. “Good or bad, interesting?” Liberty had asked. “Well, it depends who’s talking,” her older sister Jess had said. “Anyway, what’s in a name?” Liberty had asked, quoting her favorite playwright Shakespeare. Her mother had smiled a quirky smile. “Lots of things,” she had said. Jess had looked up from the pot apples she had been peeling. “If you’re so interested in what purpose is in a name, why don’t you find out what yours means?” She had said whilst cutting out cores.
Liberty. Liberty’s English teacher, Mrs. Neil had said it meant freedom. But what was freedom really like? It came in many shapes and sizes, didn’t it? So what was its one, true form? What was it like to be free? To have liberty? To be as free as a bird? Like that Song Thrush that had flown out of the tree, spooked by her sudden presence? But that wasn’t a very good phrase, was it? Birds weren’t always free, were they? They could be captured or enslaved by humans.
Was having liberty to be free of all troubles? Peace in one’s own life? No parents and sisters squabbling, no infuriating machinery. Liberty sat down beneath the luscious shade of her favorite tree; the earth was soft and the grass and insects tickled her toes. Was having freedom simply not being imprisoned? To be able to go wherever one pleased? To roam the city or walk in the countryside?
Just then Liberty heard a tiny sound, a little whispered word, and the word was ‘help’.
“Who said that?” Liberty’s own voice sounded very loud and abrupt compared to the voice of well, whatever it was. “Me, Aveline. I’m over here,” the voice whimpered. Liberty whipped her head round and saw a sight that gripped her heart with sorrow. There, in the rosebush, caught on the thorns, was a fledgling House Sparrow! She looked pained and was shaking slightly. “Please… please help,” Aveline cheeped desperately. Liberty came over, hands trembling with fear for the little creature. She was so worried for the baby Sparrow that she didn’t think about how strange it was that it could talk. “I’ll try, dear one,” she said chokingly. Liberty gently Aveline away from the thorns, whilst being careful not to get her trapped on any more spikes.
Liberty cupped Aveline in her hands and brought her next to Liberty’s own breast, to try and share some of her body heat with the injured Sparrow. As she did so, tears fell from her eyes onto Aveline’s wounds and they slowly closed up. Liberty looked at Aveline, amazed and utterly stunned. “What… what just happened?!” she asked, still shocked. “You’ve healed me,” Aveline sang. Liberty gulped and then smiled. “I… I’m so glad,” she said truthfully, tears still dripping down and onto the tiny Sparrow. “Go now,” she continued. “Fly on, fly free.” Aveline nodded her head. “I will,” she promised. “Now I have been given my liberty.” And she took off from Liberty’s hand and flew high and graceful.
Liberty gazed into the distance, heart swelling with joy. She knew now that she had her answer.
The End!
Hetty Monksea
