realised his private part had slipped out of the slit in his drawers and that the creature was staring at it with astonished eyes, shocked and frightened. Fra Giovanni did himself up, straightened his drawers and said: âIâm sorry, itâs something we humans haveâ; and for a moment he thought of Nerina, of a farmhouse near Siena many years before, a blonde girl and a straw rick. Then he said: âSometimes we manage to forget it, but it takes a lot of effort and a sense of the clouds above, because the flesh is heavy and forever pulling us earthwards.â
He grabbed the bird creature by the feet, freed him from the spikes of the pear tree, made sure that thedown on his head didnât catch on the twigs, closed his wings, and then with the creature holding on to his back, brought him down to the ground.
The creature was droll: he couldnât walk. When he touched the ground he tottered, then fell on one side, and there he stayed, flailing about with his feet in the air like a sick chicken. Then he leaned on one arm and straightened his wings, rustling and whirling them like windmill sails, probably in an attempt to get up again. He didnât succeed, so Fra Giovanni gripped him under the armpits and pulled him up, and while he was holding the creature those frenetic feathers brushed back and forth across his face tickling him. Holding him almost suspended under these things that werenât quite armpits, he got him to walk, the way one does with a baby; and while they were walking, the creatureâs feathers opened and closed in a code Fra Giovanni understood, and asked him: âWhatâs this?â And he answered: âThis is earth, this is the earth.â And then, walking along the path through the garden, he explained that the earth was made of earth,and clods of soil, and that plants grew in the soil, such as tomatoes, courgettes and onions, for example.
When they reached the arches of the cloister, the creature stopped. He dug in his heels, stiffened and said he wouldnât go any farther. Fra Giovanni put him down on the granite bench against the wall and told him to wait; and the creature stayed there, leaning up against the wall, staring dreamily at the sky.
âHe doesnât want to be inside,â explained Fra Giovanni to the father superior, âheâs never been inside; he says heâs afraid of being in an enclosed space, he canât conceive of space if itâs not open, he doesnât know what geometry is.â And he explained that only he, Fra Giovanni, could see the creature, no one else. Well, because thatâs how it was. The father superior, though only because he was a friend of Fra Giovanniâs, might be able to hear the rustling of his wings, if he paid attention. And he asked: âCan you hear?â And then he added that the creature was lost, had arrived from another dimension, wandering about;thereâd been three of them and theyâd got lost, a small band of creatures cast adrift, they had roamed aimlessly through skies, through secret dimensions, until this one had fallen into the pear tree. And he added that they would have to shelter him for the night under something that prevented him from floating up again, since when darkness came the creature suffered from the force of ascension, something he was subject to, and if there was nothing to hold him down he would float off to wander about in the ether again like a splinter cast adrift, and they couldnât allow that to happen, they must offer the creature hospitality in the monastery, because in his way this creature was a pilgrim.
The father superior agreed and they tried to think what would be the best sort of shelter: something that was, yes, out in the open, but that would prevent any forced ascension. And so they took the garden netting that protected the vegetables from hedgehogs and moles; a net of hemp strings woven by the basket-weavers of Fiesole, who
He grabbed the bird creature by the feet, freed him from the spikes of the pear tree, made sure that thedown on his head didnât catch on the twigs, closed his wings, and then with the creature holding on to his back, brought him down to the ground.
The creature was droll: he couldnât walk. When he touched the ground he tottered, then fell on one side, and there he stayed, flailing about with his feet in the air like a sick chicken. Then he leaned on one arm and straightened his wings, rustling and whirling them like windmill sails, probably in an attempt to get up again. He didnât succeed, so Fra Giovanni gripped him under the armpits and pulled him up, and while he was holding the creature those frenetic feathers brushed back and forth across his face tickling him. Holding him almost suspended under these things that werenât quite armpits, he got him to walk, the way one does with a baby; and while they were walking, the creatureâs feathers opened and closed in a code Fra Giovanni understood, and asked him: âWhatâs this?â And he answered: âThis is earth, this is the earth.â And then, walking along the path through the garden, he explained that the earth was made of earth,and clods of soil, and that plants grew in the soil, such as tomatoes, courgettes and onions, for example.
When they reached the arches of the cloister, the creature stopped. He dug in his heels, stiffened and said he wouldnât go any farther. Fra Giovanni put him down on the granite bench against the wall and told him to wait; and the creature stayed there, leaning up against the wall, staring dreamily at the sky.
âHe doesnât want to be inside,â explained Fra Giovanni to the father superior, âheâs never been inside; he says heâs afraid of being in an enclosed space, he canât conceive of space if itâs not open, he doesnât know what geometry is.â And he explained that only he, Fra Giovanni, could see the creature, no one else. Well, because thatâs how it was. The father superior, though only because he was a friend of Fra Giovanniâs, might be able to hear the rustling of his wings, if he paid attention. And he asked: âCan you hear?â And then he added that the creature was lost, had arrived from another dimension, wandering about;thereâd been three of them and theyâd got lost, a small band of creatures cast adrift, they had roamed aimlessly through skies, through secret dimensions, until this one had fallen into the pear tree. And he added that they would have to shelter him for the night under something that prevented him from floating up again, since when darkness came the creature suffered from the force of ascension, something he was subject to, and if there was nothing to hold him down he would float off to wander about in the ether again like a splinter cast adrift, and they couldnât allow that to happen, they must offer the creature hospitality in the monastery, because in his way this creature was a pilgrim.
The father superior agreed and they tried to think what would be the best sort of shelter: something that was, yes, out in the open, but that would prevent any forced ascension. And so they took the garden netting that protected the vegetables from hedgehogs and moles; a net of hemp strings woven by the basket-weavers of Fiesole, who
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