As Alpin observed, Mr. Binky looked like Gulliver. This was because he was lying on the ground, and although almost buried in rotting fallen leaves, visibly all bound up in thick vines. Jumping all over him were the wee Leafies, brandishing the little thorns they take from spiny plants to use as spears.
I don’t think I have mentioned the Leafies especifically before. They are very ancient, very tiny forest spirits that usually take the shape of the different local leaves and fruits when they want to materialize.They are very generous creatures and exist almost solely to watch over the forest. Their only ambition is to help the forest’s flora and fauna survive.
“What is the meaning of this?” cried Michael, as surprised as any of us.
“He’s turned traitor and joined the dark forces,” explained the Leafies. “So we´ve had to reduce him.”
“Nonsense! Binky may be a bore, but he is not evil,” pronounced Michael. “Release him immediately!”
“No way,” insisted the Leafies. “He wants to implant compulsory education for all the Sidhe. He means to force us all to go to school.”
“You must have got him wrong,” said Michael. “Fairies don’t go to school. Isn’t that so? What have you got to say for yourself, Mungo?”
“I’m hiring teachers. Do you need a job?”
Mr. Binky’s reply provoked a barrage of indignant protests from the Leafies. He was lucky not to have more than words flung at him.
“He says we are ignorant and racist because we don’t want to let mortals take our forest homes from us! He says we will be just as well off living in the garbage dumps they will send us to as we are out here! It’s only a question of learning how to adapt ourselves, he says!”
And they began to protest relentlessly in their squeaky but potent voices.
“Better dead than mortal! Better dead than mortal! Better dead than mortal!” they chanted.
“Do you hear what these savages are saying?” observed Mr. Binky.
The Leafies are really more civilized than almost everyone else, but the truth is it is easy for them to appear to be savages because they know very little about any world but theirs.
“Who are you calling savages? We’re not savages. We’re tough. And we’re going to fight for our rights. Nor are we ignorant. Though in this world, if you are born a brute, you are born a graduate!”
“Mungo, the truth is fairy people have never gone to school,” intervened Michael. “We learn from our parents, or from experience, or in special ways. I travel a lot, and most of what I know I’ve learnt while travelling, or in my father’s library. Pretending to be ignorant is my father’s secret weapon, but in truth he reads a lot. He’s a crypto-bibliophile.”
“Well, I,” insisted Mr. Binky, defending his ideas no matter how uncomfortable his physical position, “have been to schools. Yes, in the plural. The best in the world. And then to the world´s best universities. Oxford, Harvard, Berkeley, Lumumba, Upsala... You name the place and I’ve been there. Listening to every word the teachers said.”
“Bah!” said Malcolfus, eldest of the Leafy Elders. “A waste of time!”
“Those who study on purpose are the ones who end up joining the dark forces. They want to control the rest of us, like the mortals,” spat the Leafies, “instead of just doing what is naturally good for everyone.”
“I may be wrong, but I must say I don’t think being at these places has done you any good, Mungo. It’s only taught you how to complicate matters,”said Michael. Like most good fairies, he believed in listening to one’s heart.
“Humans exist,” insisted Mr. Binky, “whether we like it or not. And if we are not going to destroy them, we have to understand them. Education is the only way we can defend ourselves if we shun violence.”
“What do you think, Glorvina?” Michael asked the banshee.
“I’m not sure. At present I can only say that I owe what I know to having had high tea with my Scottish cousins. I got my formal education munching on salmon sandwiches. Quite good they were too, with cream cheese and tomatoes and onions. You see, my cousins are the jealous keepers of a salmon of knowledge. Named MacMor, if I remember rightly.”
“Are you saying you ate your cousins’ pet salmon?” asked Alpin with astonishment. “Even I wouldn’t do that, or at least I think I might not.”
“Salmons of knowledge are awesome creatures. You eat them today and they are alive and well and swimming in their ponds again tomorrow. There are very few of them, though, and they are hard to look after. You have to feed them on magic hazelnuts from special trees. And you have to keep your eyes on them every minute.They’re quite slippery.”
“Glorvina, I would like to meet with your cousins,” said Mr. Binky. “Could you arrange that?”
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