Hare was carefully checking a garden near the edge of the forest to see if any vegetables had been left when winter came. “Hello, Hare,” came a greeting from high above.
“Oh, good day, Magpie,” said Hare. “I was just…”
“I know, I know,” said Magpie importantly. “You were just checking for winter fish.”
“Um…well no,” said Hare, “what I was…”
“It’s just an expression,” said Magpie. “I heard it yesterday. It’s what you say when somebody is looking in a garden for leftover carrots.”
“Not JUST carrots,” said Hare. “But not fish. I don’t even like fish. You must be thinking of Raccoon; she likes fish.”
“Raccoon likes anything,” said Magpie, “but I didn’t mean fish.”
“But you said ‘fish,’” said Hare doubtfully.
“That’s why I said it’s just an expression,” said Magpie.
Hare thought about that for a moment. “You’d better tell me what that means, then,” he said, “because I don’t quite get it.”
Magpie swooped down from the top of the highest tree in the yard to a post on the garden fence. “There,” she said, “it’ll be easier to talk when I’m not in the catbird seat.”
“The what?” asked Hare.
“The catbird seat, of course,” said Magpie. “It’s the highest place around.”
“Around what?”
“Around wherever you are,” replied Magpie, fluffing her feathers in exasperation. “It’s…”
“Let me guess,” sighed Hare, “it’s ‘just an expression,’ right?”
“Aha, you do get it!”
“I don’t. I just expected that’s what you were going to say.” grumbled Hare.
“You see, Hare,” said Magpie, “an ‘expression’ is something you say that means what you say it means, but if you don’t know what it means, you’d think it means something else, because it sounds like it means that, but it really means this.”
Hare blinked at Magpie. “Have you been eating those fermented crabapples again, Magpie?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because,” said Hare with a sigh, “you’re not making any sense at all! ‘Means that but really means this…’ I’ll tell you what it means so far: I think you’re loopy!”
Magpie fluffed her feathers again. This wasn’t going quite the way she wanted. She decided to try again. “Okay, Hare,” she said. “There’s a thing called a ‘winter fish’, and I heard about it yesterday,”
“What is it?” asked Hare.
“Er…I suppose it’s the sort of fish you have in the winter,” said Magpie, a little doubtfully. She realized she wasn’t completely sure what a ‘winter fish’ was.
“In the winter, fish are under the ice,” said Hare. “Only Otter and maybe Muskrat can find them. In the winter, Raccoon always wants extra sandwiches to try to trade for fish.”
“I know,” said Magpie. “But maybe if you SAVED some fish from before the winter, you’d still have some in the winter.”
“Not if you’re Raccoon,” said Hare. “She’d eat her fish right away; it’s her favorite.”
“Imagine,” sighed Magpie, “that you’re not Raccoon.”
“I don’t have to imagine that,” said Hare, “I’m Hare. Are you sure about those crabapples?”
“What I mean is, imagine you like fish…”
Hare rolled his eyes. “Okay, Magpie, dum-te-tum, la-de-da, oh how I love fish, I wish I wish I wish for fish.”
“Thank you for that,” said Magpie. “So look, you’re hoping there are some leftover carrots in this garden, right?”
“Or turnips,” said Hare.
“Or turnips,” said Magpie. “But what you…”
“Or potatoes would be nice too,” said Hare. “I think there are some potatoes left over on the other side.”
“Or potatoes!” squawked Magpie. “The point, Hare, is that you’re looking for vegetables that are still here even though it’s winter now.”
“But not fish,” said Hare. “Fish don’t grow in gardens.”
Magpie wished, not for the first time, that she had teeth so she could clench them.
“Hare,” she said, “remember what I asked you to imagine.”
“You wanted me to imagine that I like fish,” said Hare, “not that I’m the sort of nitwit who thinks he can find fish in a garden.”
“Magpie covered her face with her wing for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Hare,” she said, “Let’s start again. When I said you were looking for winter fish, what I meant was, you were looking for leftover vegetables, in the winter, to eat, so that was just like somebody else looking for leftover fish, in the winter, to eat.”
“Oh, well, that’s obvious,” said Hare. “Why didn’t you just say so? When Raccoon has some fish, there’s never any left over, but if there were some, she’d probably look later.”
“So that’s what an expression is,” said Magpie. “It’s when I say something is just like something else, but I don’t say the ‘just like’ part.”
“It would make more sense if you did say the ‘just like’ part, Magpie,” frowned Hare. “Then someone might have a better chance to figure out what you’re talking about. Now tell me about that cat chair.”
“Catbird seat,” said Magpie. “Didn’t I already explain that?”
“Not very well,” said Hare. “And you didn’t explain about the cat. I don’t smell any cats here, but if there’s a sneaky one around you had better tell me. Cats can be dangerous.”
“There’s no cat,” said Magpie. “Catbird” is one word.”
“Are you sure?” asked Hare doubtfully.
“Quite,” said Magpie. “A catbird is a kind of bird.”
“Now you’ve gone too far,” said Hare. “There is no such thing as a bird that’s part cat.”
“Not part cat,” said Magpie. “But listen to this: ‘meow.’ ‘Mew.’ ‘Purr-purr.’”
“Now you’re starting to sound like a cat yourself,” said Hare. “I’m going over to the crabapple tree with Squirrel, and we’re getting rid of all the apples that are still there, fermenting away…”
“A catbird,” said Magpie, “is a bird that can sound like a cat! When she wants to! To fool somebody!”
“Well you didn’t fool me,” said Hare, “I knew right away it was just you sounding like a cat. And I meant it about those crabapples, Magpie. Addiction is a bad disease, but we’ll all help you.”
Magpie took a deep breath. “A catbird can fool somebody who doesn’t see her, Hare, so they might think there’s a cat nearby, but there isn’t, it’s only the bird playing a trick and I’m one of the sorts of birds that can sound like a cat if I want to, which I don’t, it was just to explain, so sometimes I’m called a catbird, and there’s one other thing about birds like me and it’s that we like to sit on the highest place so we can see what’s going on around us and if there’s anybody around that we might want to say hello to because we think it’s going to be a pleasant conversation and not drive us completely loopy!”
Hare was impressed. “Did you really say all of that with just one breath, Magpie?” he asked. “That was really good. Can you do it again?”
“No,” said Magpie. “I mean, yes. I mean, I could if I wanted, but I don’t want to.”
“And how are you feeling now about making cat noises?” asked Hare suspiciously.
“Don’t want to,” said Magpie, who was still a little out of breath.
“And the crabapples?” asked Hare.
“I have not…I wasn’t…you don’t need to…oh never mind. I don’t want any rotten crabapples, Hare,” said Magpie. “In fact, now I’m pretty tired. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to just fly home and grab forty winks.”
Magpie flapped into the air, but before she got too far she heard Hare call happily after her: “oh, I get it, Magpie! ‘Just an expression’ again, right?”
