The Prattles of Jon Prakem

"Do I yearn for the end? I don't know, Darling. I just don't know..."

The rocking chair was old, but sturdily built. Its wood, worn in places by incessant use, held Jon Prakem's weight—no more than skin and bones in his withered state—with ease. With a little movement of his own it was set to rocking back and forth. Back and forth.

The floorboards of Prakem's room creaked under him with each rock. They were aged oak, nailed in place a hundred years ago and left to rest. Jon's feet had worn them over the past fifty.

Worn, he thought. Everything is worn. My house. My furniture. Me.

But Darling wasn't worn. Not at all. Her majestic feathers, in colors of white, coal and speckled gold, were fluffy and youthful. Her eyes peered at him with childlike curiosity, and her talons clutched to her perch with vigor. Darling was an oddity in Jon Prakem's house. She was young, while everything else was old.

He'd found her not long ago. A small thing lost in the world, with a broken wing to keep her a prisoner of the earth. "My Darling," he'd called her then as he scooped her up delicately. Darling, as the owl, sweet and beautiful and innocent, reminded Jon of his wife, five years gone from his side.

He tended to this little barn owl as best his could. Fed her. Kept her safe inside his home. Her wing slowly healed, and with each day she grew. Eventually, she could fly. Jon had opened his window and let her free one night, expecting her never to return. Then morning came, and he found her at his windowsill. "My Darling," Jon said then, tears in his eyes.

Now she was fully grown, resting on the perch he built for her. Evening had settled the land, and soon he'd have to let her out to hunt. For now, she was content to listen.

"I just don't know," Jon Prakem said again, his voice weathered and worn. "It's been a good life looking back, you know it? Long and full of adventure. Full of surprises. When I met Jayne...was I ever young then. Young and strong. She was beautiful, and her energy matched my own. It didn't take me long to love her. It came easy and hasn't left, not in all these years. We traveled the world, her and I. By foot, horseback or carriage. It mattered little to us then." Jon sighed and thought back.

"We were on the road when the Great Plague hit, and I thought she was done for. Jayne came down with fever so fierce, not even her fire could match it. I stayed by her side for three days in some sorry inn. Three long days, quelling that heat in any way I could."

Darling hooted. She'd heard the story before. Of course she had.

"I know, Darling. Admit it, you like to hear me tell it. He he. Anyway, it was on the fourth day I woke to find her still. I'll never forget it. My heart was beating like a warhorse then. I'd thought I'd lost her. Then I felt her, and her warmth settled my nerves. Not a fever heat, no, but lifeful."

Darling tilted her head and watched him with large, round eyes.

"I was just getting to that. It was years after the plague had finally lifted its shadow from the land. We were in jolly spirits, tagging along with a band of merchants. Days rolled by on the road, the bright sun beating our backs. At nights, we danced with the cities. Everything was returning to normal, the plague a distant memory.

"It were like that when they beset us on the road. Brigands of some sort, come down from the hills. He he. I laugh now, but was I scared then, Darling? You know it. Scared for myself as much as Jayne. We made fast our escape on horseback. They lobbed arrows at us, you believe it? One stuck my horse's rump. Another grazed my ear."

Darling hooted.

"Why you laughing? Poking fun at a poor old man, eh? It's just like you to do it. Reminds me of one late summer. We spent it at the lake in Trist, broke and hungry. Despite it, we were happy. Jayne always poked fun at me. It was her way of showing affection. Those might've been our best days..."

Jon Prakem chuckled to himself and rocked. Darling stared at him, then at the window in his room. "Soon enough," he said. "The days are going fast, aren't they?"

Darling hooted.

"Aye, true. Back when we first got the house, everything was slow. Especially the money coming into my pocket. It was after my stint in the army. We were supposed to march somewhere, fight somebody, but nothing came of it. Lots of talk. Lots of rumors. Higher-ups spent the nights in secret, whispering. Nobody knew what was going on. I certainly didn't. Didn't much care, either. I wanted back to Jayne, so I got out at the nearest chance. We pooled our money, bought this old shack. May not seem much to you, Darling, but it's home to me. It's memory.

"But those first days...nothing seemed to flow. I couldn't find none to serve. Even Jayne had trouble. She was a maid at the tavern in the nearest town. You know Divit, it's three miles south. Surely, I've spoken of it. No? Well there you go. She got into some trouble. Guess they thought she were stealing stuff. A slow grind to sort all that out. Took us years to earn any semblance of trust from the townsfolk. Honestly, we considered leaving, but just didn't know where we'd go. Back to the lake? He he. Maybe."

Jon rested a wrinkled cheek on a hand and stared at Darling. She hooted something and stared back. "Kids? Well..." He brushed at his eyes. Somehow, they'd gotten wet. "We tried, Darling. You know we did. It just weren't meant for us to have 'em. Stopped trying after the second nearly killed you." He breathed deep and sighed. "That's life," he said through a teary, shaky laugh.

"Course then war came along and rattled the countryside. They never touched us, but we feared it. Every day. One morning I went to town and saw it burning. They'd came through, alright. You should've seen it, darling. But I wouldn't let you. It was...well, best not to talk of it.

"Things finally settled down afterward. We helped rebuild. Grew close with the folk. New people moved in. Those were fun days. When things fall into a rhythm, you know it? Days flew by. Years did. Most times I don't know where they went. You hungry?"

Darling hooted and stared.

"Well, I'll keep the rest brief, then. It was winter that did her in. They got worse and worse with each year. I cut wood until I thought my back would give, but I just couldn't keep us warm. I tried, Darling. You know I did. But that last one. Damn, it was so cold. I held Jayne as hard as I could that night. We just couldn't get warm. And when morning came?" Jon choked up. "Well, her fire were out." He rubbed his red eyes. The rocking chair creaked.

"You ready to hunt, Darling?"

She hooted.

"Okay," Jon Prakem grunted as he rocked forward and stood. It took a lot of him to do it, but he still had some strength left. Darling watched him shuffle to the window. Jon undid the latch and pushed it open, allowing a cool autumn breeze in. Winter was almost upon them again.

Darling spread her wings as he stepped aside for her. She flew out without another sound. Out into the wide world. Jon smiled as she went.

"That's my Darling," he said as he closed the window. He shuffled back to his rocking chair and sat. "That's nice." He sighed, suddenly tired. "Do I yearn for the end?" he muttered to himself. "I just don't know. I yearn for sleep, though, he he. That I do."

Jon Prakem dozed in his rocking chair as it creaked back and forth. Back and forth. He dreamed of the same thing he always did. He dreamed of Jayne. It was him and her, on the lake in Trist. The air pulled at her long hair. A smile spread on her red lips. Jon smiled, too. He just couldn't help it.

When he woke, he found her on the windowsill. Jayne, in all her beauty, sitting and smiling. It didn't seem right. How could she be there? Jon harbored the thought only a moment before discarding it. He didn't care. He rose to greet her, leaving his rocking chair to rock empty. Back and forth.

Back and forth.