Introductory Remarks
I have been meaning to tell the story of the Tiny Visitors
for some time now, but there have been difficulties. Firstly, they are not all that easy to
understand, and now that I can talk with all of them, not just Heini Heinkel, I
find that they contradict each other and I am not always able to ascertain
which version of the story is correct.
This is OK when one writes a novel, but for a blog this is irksome – I
can’t keep going back to earlier posts and revise everything!
Then there is the fact that new tiny visitors have arrived since
I began to write the story, who have their own tales to tell and add to the
story – sometimes this makes quite a difference! I have to decide which parts to reveal in the
blog, because on the one hand I have been sworn to secrecy, and on the other I
am expected to let their Old Friends Out There know where they are and what
they are up to and how they can help.
And each of the Tiny Visitors has her/his own opinion on the matter!
So it is all terribly difficult, and I tried to avoid doing
anything at all. But pressure has been
brought to bear, so I have decided to do the best I can and if it is
unsatisfactory well, tough luck! So here
is the first instalment; I shall endeavour to post new instalments every week or
so.
How I met the Tiny Visitors
As I am writing this, six little scale model gliders are circling
around my head, chattering in their strange high pitched voices, which sound
more like the swishing of air than real voices, and several more are perched on
the top of my laptop. It took a long
time for me to understand them at all!
It all began some time ago when I was sick in bed. I was bored and lonely, and suddenly a small
red flying object landed just outside of the window of my room. Red? I
knew of no bird of that colour, and anyway it was too slim for a bird. Perhaps a large dragonfly? I cannot see well without my glasses, and by
the time I had found them and put them on the little creature had disappeared.
The next day it returned.
The window was open a crack, and it perched on the window ledge, looking
into the room. When I reached for my
glasses, it flew away again.
The third day I was feeling better, and sat propped up in
bed reading. The window was wide open,
and the little red creature flew into the room!
It settled on one of the leaves of the clivia that stands on the little
table in front of the window. The
creature appeared to be very cautious, so I took pains not to stir. But since I was wearing my glasses, I managed
to take a good look at it, and finally saw what it was.
It was a little red Reiher, made of plastic or bakelite, with
a grey head, so obviously quite old, I reckoned pre-WWII. But what was it doing here, and how did it
get about? I half expected to hear the
giggling of small children who were playing a prank on me!
Before I managed to make up my mind on this matter the
Reiher flew away again. The next day I
felt better and got out of bed and back to work, and thought it was the end of
the matter. But it wasn’t!
The following Sunday I was sitting at my desk, busy writing
a story about an evil witchcraft master intent on destroying the world. The story was very exciting, and unfolded as
I was writing it, and since I really wanted to know how it would end I was
writing furiously and not paying attention to anything going on outside of my
window. Suddenly there was a little tap
at the window – the red Reiher had returned and was trying to get in! And more exciting still, it had brought along
several friends, equally red and reiherish!
I got up very very slowly and went to the window. The Reihers remained on the window sill. I opened the window as slowly as I could,
smiling like an idiot and making reassuring humming noises, of the sort I
imagined might put the Reihers at ease.
It seemed to do the trick, because none moved until I had opened the
window and returned to my seat. Then
they all flew into the room and settled on top of the photo-frame on my desk. It almost seemed as though they settled there
to tell me their story!
Time passed, and the little Reihers continued to visit
me. And they brought their friends! Apparently there was a little tribe of tiny scale model gliders
living in my defunct bathroom chimney.
One night I saw them, flying around the chimney in the light
of the harvest moon, which hung low in the sky, huge and golden and seemingly
straight from a fairy tale. Around and
around they went, circling the chimney, like tiny fairies dancing in a long
forgotten dream. But they were real, and
eventually I was to find out that their story was real, too – tragic and sad,
as so many fairy tales. And they wanted
me to bring about a happy ending!
Me! But I am getting ahead of
myself.
The following Saturday I was typing away again furiously at
my Witches tale, when the whole group sailed into the room through the open
window and descended on the clivia.
There were ten in all. First four
red Reihers, then a Weihe, followed by a Meise, a Minimoa, a Fafnir, a
Rhönadler, and finally, weirdly, a He 111!
When they had all settled themselves comfortably, the latter flew three
times around my head to get my attention, and rested himself on the upper rim of
my laptop. “Guten Morgen,” he said in
perfect German, and continued in this language throughout (I have translated
what he said for the convenience of my readers).
“I am Heini,” he said.
“I have been nominated to speak to you, because I am bigger than my
friends and have a louder voice.” He was
indeed much larger and substantial than the others. “I will tell you the story of my friends and
I, and why we have chosen to make ourselves known to you. The fact is, we need your help in finding our
missing friend Fatty Messerschmitt.”
Thus began the strangest narrative I ever heard.
