Judges' general comments can be found at the bottom of this entry
 
The Crow in the Far
By Michael Alan Todd
Email: Brookwood91367@hotmail.com
Copyright 2005
 
 
 
 
At first it was Ok. I mean about the small hunter.
 
He was dressed in blue shorts and a white shirt and had wandered out into the forest on a cool autumn day. With him was a small knapsack that he had slung over one
shoulder and he looked far older at a distance than his seven years.
 
He would stop to pick up a stick and whack it against a tree until it broke, amusing himself along his way. He had crossed a dense section of forest away from his house
and come to a narrow meadow. He hesitated in the shade of the forest before crossing into the dim sunlight paled by the heavy overcast. Before him was another forest
that he had never explored before. It was call "The Far" by the village people. It was simply farther than most were willing to go into the woods. This young boy
however was in no hurry and he wasn't tired at all. He slowly crossed the marshy meadow as the sun dipped behind a heavy cloud to make the green grass seem even
darker. 
 
There was strangely no sound, not even of the birds that day or the rustling of the brush that could sometimes be heard as the deer made their way under the cover of
the deep trees. There was that familiar herbal smell that signaled the dying of the leaves and the beginning of October and there was the faint smell of smoke from the
village hearths.
 
In his mind and perhaps his soul there was a sense of adventure and even a little touch of braved danger as he neared The Far. He was aware of being alone and a
willingness to do whatever he wanted elated his mind.
 
I watched him from my perch high in a tree at the edge of The Far. I preened my black feathers casually looking up at his progress now and again. I knew how he
felt. He was a loner and so was I, not wanting to answer to the demands of anyone. This being a temporary state for him, it was a more constant state for me.
 
He stopped again just beneath the tree before he entered my forest. For the first time I could smell him. That rugged smell of a young boy, the juices of the grass
clinging to his socks and even his breath sweet and clear. It reminded me that I was hungry and I dove from the branch into the woods toward some tasty seeds that I had
cleverly hidden in the grass at the edge of the glen. CAW CAW CAW! I broke the silence of the forest with my call. Though I did not mean it, it must have startled
him some because he stopped and looked up, right at me. 
 
I nibbled at a few seeds but was far more curious about this young boy than I was hungry so I walked on the floor of the forest back to where he was. I was quiet this
time so as not to frighten him. He heard my claws lightly tattering the dead leaves beneath my feet and turned again to see me. He was much closer now and I could see
his face. It was that of a youngster so dear and sweet and yet every bit a rugged boy and adventurous. 
 
He turned and said, "Hello Mr. Crow."
 
I, this time was startled and fluttered off for a moment. I had never had a human speak directly to me. It was a wondrous thing to be addressed in such a way.
 
"Come along then, walk with me." He said. 
 
I scarcely knew what to do. Not only did this young boy speak to me but he invited my company. I was flattered so I walked along side of him as he explored and sniffed
and wandered about. It was quite exciting really.
 
We had walked some distance and he had not said another word. It had become quite dark in the depth of the forest but he continued on. He sat on a dead log for a
while and was nice enough to share some crisps of bread with me. Then again we walked. Finally I lagged behind a bit and he turned to look at me. "Come along
then." he said. 
 
I liked it when he talked to me. It made me feel important.
 
I was pecking about not really paying much attention as we wandered on and suddenly a terrible thing happened. I looked up just as he fell head first into a large tree.
He must have tripped over a hidden log. I was horrified at the sound of his head hitting the tree and he lay there not moving. I didn't know what to do. I hopped up
to him and pecked gently at his wing but it was still. A small trickle of red ran from a cut just above his eye. Just when I had made such a wonderful friend, now he
was asleep from his injuries.
 
I knew I must do something so I flew away in search of a way to help. I spied a small tin cup no doubt left by some other adventurous boy on another day. I gathered
the edge into my beak and went straight to the river. I filled the cup with the silver liquid from the wash and returned to the boy. The cup was heavy and my beak
was sore from its weight as I placed it by his head. 
 
He did not drink though. Still he slept. 
 
It became darker and darker and I gathered some of my friends and told them how he had spoken to me before he went to sleep. Not many of them believed what I said but
they were curious. We stayed with the boy as night fell in the forest. Surely some other human would look for him but no one came. 
 
As the ball of fire rose once again in the east as it did everyday since I can remember, the boy was waking from his long sleep but as he began to stand he fell
again on his tail. He seemed not to be quite awake and clear water came from his eyes.
 
"Mr. Crow", he said, "I fear I have hurt myself and I don't know what to do. I am dizzy as I stand and there seems to be more than one of you. 
 
Well of course there were. I had gathered most of the twenty-four close friends that I have to assist me with this boy’s dilemma. 
 
We left him at once and gathered in a tall tree to discuss what we could do. 
 
"Most likely he is from the village," one said. 
 
"......Or from the farm on the west side," said another. 
 
"We could go there and raise such a noise that they would come to see the matter."
 
"I think he is from the village," I said. "He came from the east. I have been with him since he entered The Far."
 
"Did he really speak to you?" said Vlor.
 
"That he did lad. That he did, he called me Mr. Crow," I told him.
 
"What an odd thing to call you. Are you sure it was you he was speaking to?" he asked.
 
“We haven’t time to waste. Let us all go to the village and make a noise and bring the other humans," I said.
 
By the time we left the perch in the tree there were more than 200 of us. Word of the sleeping child had spread throughout the forest like the fires of summer. 
 
On the wing it took us just moments to reach the village and there were already men gathered looking in all the barns and in all the houses. Some called out, "Check the
stream banks, he might have fallen."
 
Yes it was the boy they searched for. I was sure of it. We gathered in the trees near a house that smelled most like the boy. I am sure it was his nest.
 
We made a noise until we drew the attention of some of the men. An older human came from the nest and spoke, she said," The crows have found him. Follow the crows."
 
Some of the men made a cawing sound at her and showed their teeth. 
 
"Don't laugh at me,” she said. “The crows know where he is." 
 
We must have been the “crows”, for that is what the boy called me, Mr. Crow. I gave the signal and we flew. At first the men paid no attention so we circled back again
dipping low until we almost blocked the ball of fire in the sky, so many of us. Now there were thousands of us. Never had I seen so many come from so far. Some were not
even like us. Some were of different colors and smaller but they all seemed to be following my lead. 
 
Finally the men started to go toward the small forest and they crossed it and came out to the green meadow. They searched all along the way. Then they stopped at the
edge of The Far. 
 
We circled high over the trees and dove deep into the forest so they would follow us. Again we circled back into the meadow and plunged into the forest. Again and
again we pressed them toward the boy.
 
I dove back to where the boy was and sat by his side. He slept again and I pecked at his wing. His eyes opened and he reached out to me with a crisp in his hand. I
gently took it but I didn't eat. I placed it on the ground for later. 
 
At last the men could be heard coming in the direction of the boy and we gathered about the boy and made a great noise, so loud that the boy covered his ears.
 
The boy was taken up in the wings of a man who called him Stephen, odd thing to call a child. The man stroked at the boys feathers upon his head and walked away with him
toward the meadow. 
 
The others said the day was done and began to fly off in every direction. I Cawed thanks to them and followed the man with the boy and the other men as they crossed
the green meadow and went through the small forest to the little nest in the village. 
 
There they laid the boy on a small white nest and tended him. They washed him and cleaned his injury and the boy began to speak. 
 
"I had a dream father," he said. "I dreamed that I was high in the sky and flew like the wind over the forest and there were thousands of crows and other birds with me.
They taught me to fly Father!"
 
I sat on the window sill of the nest and listened as the boy told of the things his soul had done as he slept.
 
The father man smiled as he stroked the yellow feathers on the boys head. The boy turned and smiled as he saw me sitting on the sill. "Mr. Crow." He said quietly.
 
I turned and flew high over the small forest and over the meadow and into the deep of The Far. I will look again for the boy another day I thought, as I savored the
taste of the crisp he had left for me there. 
 
 

Judges' general comments:

All in all, we loved what Michael tried to do in this piece, playing with character perspectives, the nature of reality, and hidden metaphors which point to a story much deeper than it first appears. This could be the beginning of a fantastic series!

We loved the surreal feel of this piece mixed with the messages of the metaphysical possibilities.

Although Michael was our winning entry for the 2005 Annual Fiction/Non-Fiction Contest, he still has many options for further editing in order to make this piece work for him even more than it does now. Namely we suggested he work on punctuation (run-ons & interrupters mainly), passive sentences (and weak verbs—think ACTIVE), and additional character development.

By paying attention to these areas and working on them further, he will have a work that is more than worthy of publication.

Really nice work.