SHORT STORY The Golden Bird

Once upon a time there was a bird made of gold.
And wherever the bird drank; the water would turn into perfume once she had flown away.
In time, people began to discover this perfume as they travelled. It became very sought after as it was the purest and most delicious perfume anyone had ever seen or heard of.

Eventually, people came to realise the connection between the golden bird and the beautiful perfume. And so it came to pass that a group of rich merchants got together and engaged the services of an explorer in the hope that he might catch the golden bird for them.

With the golden bird, they believed that they could create and control the supply of perfume, and in so doing become even richer.

It took the explorer a long time to catch the bird. Always it seemed that he was about to net it when, ‘whoosh’, it would flit away to safety in a blur of wings leaving only perfume in it’s’ wake.

For around a year he tracked it. In jungles and forests, on mountains and through desert roads.
Until, finally one day he was successful and he netted the golden bird.
It fluttered about in the net as any bird might have done.
Looking anxious and forlorn it seemed to plead with the explorer to let it go.
But the explorer told himself that a contract was a contract and carefully forced the golden bird into a wicker cage. He began the long journey back to the city and the group or merchants to collect his reward.

The group of merchants were delighted after having waited so long and they lost no time in paying the explorer his money and taking possession of the fabulous golden bird.
The explorer gladly took his reward and went to pay his debts. His last sight of the bird was as the merchants took it into a great grey room filled from floor to ceiling with glass phials full of water.
As the door closed the bird looked back at the explorer and he felt again the urge to set it free. But it was no longer within his gift.

The merchants lost no time in putting their scheme to work. Each day the golden birds cage would be opened in the great windowless grey room. Each day, she would emerge quickly and would fly and fly around the room; seeking and searching for a way to escape.
Eventually the golden bird would return exhausted to it’s perch and drink water prepared by the merchants in order to refresh itself before flying again.
The merchants would carefully store the water. Stockpiling it against the day that it would transform into the wonderful perfume.
Day after day. Week after week the process was repeated. The bird would fly and rest and drink. The merchants would catalogue and store the phials of water, waiting for the moment that it would turn into perfume.
But after three months, the water had turned brackish and stank, whilst the birds plumage had lost its gold and become instead grey and tired.
The merchants agreed that they had been given the wrong bird. In disgust, they gathered all of the stinking water and the shabby bird and went to find the explorer; demanding that he return their money.

Despite all his protestations, the explorer was made to pay back the reward in full. As he had already spent a good portion of it; he was forced to sell most of his possessions in order to make good on the debt.

At the end, he sat in his empty rooms with the bird regarding him from it’s wicker cage across the floor.
There was no furniture in the house. All of his pictures and treasures had been sold to pay his debts and all that he owned was the water. Hundreds of phials filled with brackish, stinking water filled the house. Clinking and rolling on the bare floor.
The explorer looked at the bird and the bird stared back at the explorer.
Again he felt the impulse to let her go and, with a grunt of resignation, undid the catch on the little wicker door and opened the cage.

The bird tottered out onto the floor. It looked unwell. It’s feathers had lost their golden lustre and hung from it like a tattered cloak. As it stumbled over to stand in the ray of sunlight coming in from the window, it left a trail of downy grey feathers.

“Well it’s a fine favour you’ve done me,” said the explorer to the bird. “ I’ve lost all my money and furniture. I can’t even afford to live in this house anymore. Tomorrow I will have to move out”.
The bird only eyed him as it pecked at the cracks in the bare floorboards. It hopped and fluttered up onto the windowsill and tapped it’s beak against the glass sadly.

“ Oh very well,” said the explorer, “ there’s no more point in your staying here with me any longer”.
He opened the window for the bird and gently pushed it towards the roof outside.
The bird looked back at him one last time, before tentatively walking onto the roof overlooking the street below.
Then, with a flutter of wings, it launched itself into the open sky and away.

The explorer watched sadly as the bird grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared from view.
There was a moment, as the rays of the sun caught it’; when it looked again like the fabulous golden creature that he had pursued for so long. But then it was gone.

The explorer closed the window with a sigh and turned back to his empty room with it’ s hundreds and hundreds of glass phials. He regarded the empty birdcage. Suddenly he grasped it from the floor and , with a grunt, threw it across the room. It crashed into a pile of glass phials, breaking some and scattering others.
But instead of stinking water, the room was filled with the smell of sweet perfume. The explorer ran to the broken glass. Dipped his finger into the liquid and lifted it to his nose.
Perfume.
He checked the other phials. Piling them up in their hundreds and laughing and laughing as he realised the truth.

They were all filled with perfume.