The Little Thing That Wasn't Sure What It Was: V. The Name That Came Back

The little thing had been thinking about the bird.

The bird was still somewhere beyond the river.

The little thing could imagine it.

But it wanted to see it again.

So it went looking.

It followed the river.

It climbed the hill.

It crossed the field.

At last it found the bird sitting on a branch.

“Bird!” cried the little thing.

The bird flew away.

The little thing watched it go.

Then it noticed something strange.

There were two birds.

One was in the sky.

The other was in its mind.

The little thing had said the name.

The name had brought the bird back.

But the bird in its mind was not the bird in the sky.

It was smaller.

It was quieter.

It could stay still.

It could fly anywhere the little thing wanted.

The little thing began to play.

“Bird on tree.”

The bird appeared in its mind.

“Bird above river.”

The bird moved.

“Bird under cloud.”

The bird moved again.

Then the little thing said:

“Bird that cannot fly.”

The bird remained in its mind.

The little thing stared.

It had changed the bird without changing the bird.

It had changed what the name could mean.

Then it tried something stranger.

“Bird-brain.”

The little thing laughed.

There was no bird-brain sitting anywhere.

But the words seemed to mean something.

Then it said:

“Bird-brave.”

Now the bird was not a thing at all.

It was a way of being.

The little thing stopped laughing.

A name could go away from the thing it named.

It could meet another word.

It could return carrying something new.

The little thing looked at the bird in the sky.

Then at the bird in its mind.

The same name belonged to both.

But it did not mean exactly the same thing.

The little thing had discovered that words could change without changing their names.

And then it wondered about its own name.

It had been called many things.

Little thing.

Creature.

You.

But none of them seemed quite right.

The little thing whispered:

“What do you call me?”

There was no answer.

So it listened.

And from somewhere very far away, it heard a word.

It sounded like its own name.

The little thing looked around.

No one was there.

It said the word again.

This time, it sounded different.

It sounded as though it had come back.