And now, the conclusion of the story, which will introduce the theme of repentance.
-----
It was very dark. The oppressive heat continued, though the sun had gone down hours before, and everywhere was the rotten egg stench of sulfur, belched out by the horrid red Dragon.
In a corner of the darkness, a certain gray squirrel was admiring his prize. A real acorn from the fabled Western Woods! Samuel held it out at arm's length. It was beautiful! It looked-- like an acorn. Like every other acorn he'd ever seen or eaten in his entire life. He held it up to his nose to sniff its delectable nutty aroma! It smelled-- well, mostly it just smelled. It smelled like rotten eggs, because everything did when you were close to the dragon. He stuck out his little pink tongue and gave its smooth shell a lick. It tasted like-- the shell of an acorn... and a little bit like rotten eggs.
Ugh! How could he possibly enjoy his reward in this foul atmosphere? He'd done something great and mighty! He'd led two children of King Olam through the woods and handed them over to the dragon--all by himself! He should be able to enjoy his reward! Instead, he had a sick feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, and he suspected that it wasn't just the smell of sulfur in the air. He should be able to bask in the glow of a job well-done! So why didn't he feel like celebrating?
In his mind, he traveled back in time to his younger days. War was raging fiercely in the Kingdom of Olam back then. Every faithful, able-bodied servant of the King was training for battle. He was part of the "Mad Squirrel Brigade," 305th Regiment! Their motto had been, "We don't just EAT nuts, we ARE nuts!" He'd been proud to fight for his king and kingdom! Sgt Bigotes had drilled them in marching in formation for hours!
"Squirrels marching to the foe! Hut, two, three, four.
"We will fight them where we go! Hut, two, three, four.
"We will fight them in the trees! Hut, two, three, four.
"We will bite their knobby knees! Hut, two, three, four. Company, halt!"
Now, most drill sergeants would've said at this point, "About face!" meaning turn around to go back the way you'd come. However, Sgt Bigotes had grown up in a tree near a monastery, and he'd heard the monks talking often. They had a special word, they said, that meant "to turn around and go back the way you came." That word was "repent." So, instead of "About face," Sgt Bigotes said, "Re-PENT!"
Samuel Squirrel smiled at that happy memory. He'd always felt good about being a loyal servant to his King.
In the darkness, poorly-lit by a few smoky campfires, Catherine fidgeted against the thick stake, struggling against her bonds. Her wrists were rubbed raw by the coarse ropes, but she thought she might be making some headway with the knots.
"Harold," she whispered, "Are you any closer to getting free?" There was no answer.
"Harold!" she said, a little louder.
"Snorxx--Wha? I'm sorry. I guessed I must have dozed off. What were you saying?"
"Dozed off?! HOW can you sleep at a time like this?! And how can you sleep standing up?! What are you, a horse?!"
"I'm just really tired."
"How are you doing with getting your hands untied?"
"What? Oh that! Yeah, I had a dagger tucked in the back of my pants that they didn't know about. I cut myself free hours ago!"
"WHAT?!"
"Oh sure! I've just been standing here leaning against this wooden stake because it's just so comfortable! No, I'm kidding. Still tied up tight."
"Harold, I'm scared. What are we gonna do?"
"Um... Deep knee bends, maybe?"
"Harold!"
"Or... we could sing! Do you know 'The Walloping Whales of Cardiff, Wales'?"
"Harold."
"'There are plenty of fish in the sea, so they say. There's herring and salmon and cod.'"
"Harold!"
"Oh, right! 'There's Harold and salmon and'--No, that's not right. Pretty sure it's 'herring.'"
"HAROLD!"
"Yes?"
"MUST you make jokes at a time like this?"
"Sorry. I always make jokes when I'm nervous."
"You make jokes a lot!"
"I'm nervous a lot!"
"Harold! What's that moving over there?
----
"I can fix this!" said Samuel. "I know I can!" He marched right up to the ugly red mound of scaly flesh.
"Dragon, I've reconsidered our deal. Here's your crummy acorn back. Now let Harold and Catherine go!"
The huge snake-like head lowered itself to look Samuel in the eye. "I think not. You, of course are free to leave--but where will you go? [cough.] Do you think you'll be welcome anywhere in the Kingdom once King Olam hears what you've done--that you handed two of his children over to his enemy? Do you think he could ever forgive you after that? Face it, Squirrel. You've failed, and you must live with the consequences."
Samuel dipped his head, turned, and trudged sadly away.
The dragon drew his head back to coil his long neck over his broken wing, when he was suddenly startled by the sound of thundering hooves that grew louder every second. The night was illuminated by hundreds of torches, borne by soldiers on horseback, and by a light that seemed to emanate from the silvery armor of the of the leader of this army.
"Well, well! King Olam. I have two of your children here. Let's come to an arrangement, hmm?"
"They don't belong to you." Said King Olam, with the voice of unquestioned authority. "They belong to me. Let. Them. Go."
Then, off to the left, near the ground, "Ho-ho!" And on the right, "Ho-ho!" And soon, from everywhere in the shadows, "Ho-ho! Ho-ho! Ho-ho-ho! Ho-ho!"
"Harold! It's Poisson Erro!"
Everywhere around, brightly colored frogs armed with bows and arrows hopped into the light!
"Ho-ho! It is _I_ AND my whole family! WE are the king's archers! Allez!"
The Dragon and all his vast host of misshapen minions began to flee, peppered on every side with tiny arrows! Somewhere, in the midst of all the chaos, someone cut the ropes that bound Catherine and Harold--someone who still had a paring knife that had been borrowed from King Olam's kitchen. King Olam dismounted and embraced them both. "My children!" he said. And then, "Samuel Squirrel. Step forward.
The little gray squirrel seemed even smaller than usual. He stepped forth on shaking legs, and would not raise his head to look up at the king.
"Samuel. What have you done?"
"I was supposed to lead these two to safety, but instead, I handed them over to-- to the Dragon. It was wrong! I never should have done it! I tried to make it right, but I only made things worse! I'm done with THAT. I don't want to be anything but your loyal subject! I surrender! Do with me as you will! I--" he began marching in place on his little squirrel legs, "I want to go back to the place I came from. Your Majesty, I repent!"
"Samuel Squirrel..." said King Olaf, getting down on his knees and stretching his arms forward, "I forgive you. Welcome back."
No comments:
Post a Comment