Buko and the Yukants

By Martha Faë

His name is not Buko, but everyone calls him that. He cannot fly, but he has always dreamt of soaring above the clouds without an airplane. Buko has heard that some things are simply impossible, but his heart tells him otherwise.

BOOK RECOMMENDED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS AGED 9 TO 11 YEARS. A younger child may also enjoy the book with a little help as the story is suitable for all ages. It is packed with action, splashes of humor and places a strong emphasis on the value of friendship.

She has no name, but they call her Yuki, like all the boys and girls on her island. Buko, that strange boy, has told her that everything is possible, but her heart tells her otherwise.

Peck… Well, Peck is his name and he has a heart of gold, literally.

The rest is better left for you to discover by yourself. ‘Buko and the Yukants’ is a story about friendship that teaches us that only fear keeps us from freedom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ediciones Fortuna
• Release date: Jun 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781071553299

Book preview

Chapter One

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Buko, Buko, Buko, he repeated to himself as his boots sunk into the snow with that crunch that filled his heart with joy. I am called...It doesn't matter what my name is, everyone calls me Buko. Buko, that's me. His voice was hoarse but childlike.

He rested his eyes on the meadow, white and untouched. The boy's frozen face lit up when he realized he would be the first to set foot on the snow. Winter was definitely a magical season, not only for its ample vacation time, but also for the silence it brought about in Buko's secret place, making it all the more special.

Step by step, crunch after crunch, the boy crossed the blank canvas of the meadow. He was moving along like a small speck, leaving a trail of little marks in his path. The trees loomed over him, their bare branches pointing towards his small head, snug in his woollen hat. It had coloured stripes leading to a big pompom at the top.

Soon, his snow stained boots found themselves on the old trunk that had fallen over the stream who knows how many years before. Now, it served as a bridge. Buko peered down to see the water had frozen, trapping the leaves and other bits of litter inside, which had been flowing freely just thirty hours before. He continued walking, while his breath formed wisps in the wind. He brought his gloved hands to his face to warm his nose, and with bright and dancing eyes, said to himself; Just a little further.

Finally, there it was, like a magical vision: his tree. A broad, twisted trunk that looked like it was waiting for him with open branches. Buko climbed nimbly, letting himself feel his familiarity with it in every movement. Once he reached the top, he looked at his surroundings. He inhaled deeply and let the icy air fill his lungs. It had snowed all night long and the countryside seemed to belong to another world; one sketched out in black and white.

Buko lay down on his favourite branch, as he always did, as he had done a thousand times. The layer of snow covering it gave way under his weight and fell, emitting a muffled thud below. There was no echo, it was as if he had found himself in a private space totally separate from the normal world. On his back, he contentedly watched how the fog of his breath intertwined with the flat, greyish clouds that the wind moved along speedily. He perceived quite a few shapes in the sky. A castle, a lion, a valiant knight with a sword, a rocket and then a propeller plane. The sky held real magic for Buko. The best sort of magic, the kind that can turn dreams into reality. He did not care what his older brother said, nor how much his classmates laughed at him.

One day I’ll fly across the sky. I’ll see everything from above. I’ll soar and feel the wind on my face, thought Buko while he moved his hand as if it were a swift bird. The index finger of his glove had a hole, exposing skin reddened from the cold. I’ll glide so easily like the clouds do, and I could...

I could touch them!

Buko uttered these words in a low voice, very carefully, because they were words of crystal in which lay something very precious: his dreams. He knew that everything was possible, nobody could convince him otherwise, since he felt it in his heart.

Yes, I will fly. He said in a whisper. And I will go to worlds that no one has discovered.

Beneath the dense clouds, a good distance from the tree, he could just about make out a church tower. Buko sat up all of a sudden and craned his bony neck. What was that moving above the bell tower? A shadow with a strange silhouette, too big to be from a bird. His hands rapidly searched the various pockets of his jacket. Chewing gum, house keys, a bouncy ball, a pencil. And finally, finally his binoculars! Buko had heard many times that you never knew when an opportunity to make a great discovery could present itself, and so he was always prepared. Bringing the binoculars to his eyes, he made a short trajectory through the sky before spotting the top of the bell tower.

It is a bird! he exclaimed.

But it was not just any old bird, at least it was not one of those that Buko knew. He loved observing nature and was able to recognize up to thirty distinct species of bird. But this one... This one had extremely large feet and a sharp, unending beak. The strange animal was playing above the bell tower, seemingly building a nest. It found itself completely absorbed in its task of placing and replacing the material it had under its feet.

Buko was unaware of how much time he spent observing that fascinating animal. His fingers were frozen, glued to the binoculars. His woollen hat covered his entire head, except for the ends of his disorderly fringe, now dusted with frost.

Buko sneezed.

That sneeze was the start of it all.

A small explosion that broke the perfect silence of the snowy tundra.

The bird briskly lifted its head and turned in the direction of Buko, whose heart gave a leap, as he saw through the binoculars that the bird was looking at him. Yes, it was looking at him intently. It’s impossible! he told himself, lowering the binoculars from his face. It’s impossible! Or maybe not?  His internal voice was telling him, as it always did, that everything was possible. Buko raised the binoculars to his eyes once more, but the bird had disappeared. There was nothing above the bell tower. Where had it gone?

Buko felt someone nudging his shoulder to get his attention. His stomach leapt, rose like a balloon to his throat and then sank suddenly. Who was behind him? Who was nudging his shoulder?

His neck had become stiff from a combination of the cold and fear, and so he had to turn his whole body in order to see what was behind him. A stifled yelp could be heard and Buko fell onto the snow, sinking into it. An enormous bird was observing him from high up in the tree, the one that had been on the bell tower seconds before. It spread it wings and they covered such a large span that it cast the boy in complete shadow.

The bird flapped a few times, with an unusual tenderness. Buko turned his gaze to the enormous bird that had just settled next to him. Its large, sharp beak nudged his chest like a cat looking for cuddles. Buko understood that it wanted to know if he was alright.

Yes.

The bird’s eyes looked at him with delight.

You’re golden! Exclaimed Buko and the bird nodded its head to confirm. "I’ve never seen a bird this colour before. Never in real life, I mean. It’s just that, you’re not