Temperance May; A Cautionary Tale. Part Two

 Jonathon Mercer couldn’t understand why he felt so unhappy. He had a beautiful wife, a steady job and a loving family. Something wasn’t right. Normally he would speak with his father. Every evening he would sit with his family as they shared a long comfortable dinner and talk bout the day’s events. Since marrying Temperance he found it hard to find time with any of his family. Dinners were rushed and quiet; his parents finding excuses to leave the table promptly. His Grandmother now took her meals in her room.

Jonathon often thought about what she had told him,

“You keep her close and watch her.”

The truth was he couldn’t control her. She scared him. The only way he could handle Temperance was to try and keep her happy. Maybe if he could keep her happy he might not feel so miserable.

“I want to see the dress.” Temperance demanded one late October morning at the lonely breakfast table.

“Darling I‘ve explained,” Jonathon soothed.

“No!” She snapped, “I’ve had enough of your explaining. If you don’t show me that dress I shall write to my sisters and tell them how badly you and your family treat me. Their husbands are big,strong powerful men; I don’t think you would last very long against them.”

“Please sweetheart,” Jonathon begged, his hands fluttering in a vain attempt to placate her, “Please don’t ask me to go against my father.”

“Jonathon Mercer,” Temperance hissed icily, “You are a pathetic fool. Show me that dress or I shall pack my bags and leave you forever.”

In the dead of night, his hands shaking, Jonathon crept down the passageway to the front of the shop, following his wife. His whole family slept above unaware of his ordeal.

“Hurry up,” she nagged, “Quickly.”

He slipped a stolen key into the door and swung it open. They both gasped. Inside the shop the mannequin was clad in the most beautiful gown.

Temperance let out a low moan of desire and started to reach for the mannequin.

“Don’t touch it please,” Jonathon whispered fearfully.

Before she could the mannequin began to shake and jump violently. As Jonathon watched, his mouth wide open, the mannequin transformed before his eyes; in no less than a minute, where was once a dull, wooden mannequin, stood a beautiful young woman. Jonathon could do no more than blink.

The young woman looked startled,

“You’re not supposed to be here,”

“Who are you?” Temperance replied boldly, standing up to her, “All the doors are locked. How did you get in here?”

“You shouldn’t be in here,” the girl repeated urgently, “Please leave. Something terrible will happen.”

Temperance ignored her,

“Who are you?”

“My name is Adele Sorensen. I am the daughter of Christian and Marie Sorensen. Please go now before it is too late.”

Temperance folded her arms defiantly,

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell us what you’re doing here.”

Adele thought for a moment, and bit her lip in hesitation, then smiled at Jonathon and Temperance,

“You are good people; your family has looked after me for many years. I will tell you my story. But afterwards you must not ask me any more questions and you must leave straightaway.”

“My mother Marie died when I was a little girl and not long afterwards my father remarried. My step mother Amelia was sweet natured when Papa was around but she was vain, selfish and self absorbed. When Papa was away on business she was mean, cruel and vindictive to my brother and I. We didn’t know she was also a witch.

 I was a little girl in desperate need of a mother’s love and, despite her cruelty, I adored Amelia. I remember she had hundreds of beautiful dresses. I loved playing with my mother’s dresses, she would let me wear them and parade around the house wearing her jewels. I would often ask Amelia to let me wear her dresses but she would always refuse.

One day when Papa was away I begged to wear one of her dresses. She flew into a rage and cast a spell on me, turning me into a mannequin. She laughed meanly as she did so, screaming,” Now you can wear as many dresses as you like.”

When my father returned from his business trip Amelia told him I had run away. My brother spoke up and told father the truth and the two of them cast Amelia out. They were heartbroken and did not know what to do. A kindly raven heard their cries of sadness and did her best to lift the curse. I was able to return to my true form, once a year, on my birthday. Until someone took my place I would remain trapped this way for a hundred years and then remain a mannequin forever.

My father left instructions in his will that the mannequin was to be left to this business. Once a year a beautiful dress was to be made to fit the mannequin and to be ready for my birthday. The completed dress was to be left on the mannequin and locked in the shop overnight and left alone. When I return I always have something to wear and I always pay with a bag of gold.”

Adele held out a bag heavy with gold. Temperance snatched it from her and turned to the counter to greedily count the coins.

Jonathon was dazzled by Adele’s sweetness and beauty; he cleared his throat and managed to speak,

“How many years do you have left?”

She shook her head sadly,

“This is my final birthday. Tonight is the hundredth night. I will never return again.”

“But you said someone can take your place.”

“There has never been anyone here before. My father made sure to warn your family. He did not want this tragedy to befall anyone else.”

Jonathon’s eyes slid to watch his wife carefully counting coins, her eyes glinting meanly.

“How is the curse lifted?” he asked quietly

Adele lowered her voice and leant closer to Jonathon. He felt dizzy as he took in her scent. She was so different to Temperance.

“Someone has to ask me if they can wear my dress. I have no choice but to give it to them. Then the curse is theirs and I am free.” She smiled wistfully, “Tonight I will be free anyway. I will join my father and brother and never be trapped again.”

“Adele…” Jonathon began, reaching for her hand, his heart beating fiercely, “If only my father had told me about you before. I could have…”

Suddenly Temperance was beside them, her mouth twisted sourly,

“What are you two whispering about?” she snapped.

“Nothing dear,” Jonathon replied quickly, “I was just explaining how hard father worked on this dress and how you have been dying to see it.”

Money forgotten Temperance ogled the dress. She fingered the material lovingly.

“Such a pretty dress,” she sighed.

Adele looked horrified,

“Please don’t touch it” she begged trying to back away from Temperance.

“Why not? Let me touch it!” Adele was backed against the counter and had no choice but to allow Temperance to stroke the smooth silkiness of the dress.

“Mr. Mercer,” Adele implored, “Please tell your wife to stop, both of you must leave now.”

“Temperance, please don’t do that.”

“I shall do as I please” She snarled at both of them, “I’m sick of being told what to do. Temperance, fold clothes, count pins, stop that, Temperance please don’t. …I’m sick of it. I deserve better. Give me that dress!”

Temperance tried to rip the dress off Amelia.

“No! No!” Amelia cried,” Mr. Mercer, tell her to stop!”

“Temperance,” Jonathon reprimanded; feeling, for the first time in his married life, in control, “You won’t get anything if you don’t ask nicely.”

“Oh very well,” she rolled her eyes, “Please can I wear your dress?”

Tears streaming from her eyes, Adele mutely removed her gown and handed it to Temperance who quickly pulled it on over her nightgown. She began admiring herself in the shop mirror, cooing and smiling at her reflection.

Adele stood in her petticoats, shaking and sobbing, as Jonathon put his own dressing gown over her shoulders,

“I’m so sorry Mr. Mercer, please forgive me.”

“What are you crying for you pathetic creature,” Temperance snapped tossing her hair as she paraded and preened, “I’m only borrowing it.”

“Temperance,” Jonathon spoke up grimly, “Its time you were quiet.”

“What did you say to me?”  His wife shrieked.

“I’ve had enough of your noise. I said be quiet.”

Temperance opened her mouth to hurl invectives at him and suddenly froze still, her hands clutching at her throat. In a moment she began to shudder and shake and soon all that stood before them was a plain wooden mannequin. Temperance and the dress had disappeared.

Adele had her head buried in Jonathon’s shoulder.

“Come on Adele, it’s over, you’re free,” as he lifted her chin to see her face  her features blurred and shifted; he found himself looking into the eyes of his wife.

“Temperance?” Jonathon stuttered, heart pounding, almost in tears, ” but…”

 ”She has gone.” Softly whispered the woman  who stood before him, “It’s me, Adele. Thank you Mr. Mercer. I’m free. But I am so sorry… your wife…”

“Thank you Adele,” Jonathon kissed her lightly on the forehead; experiencing happiness for the first time in months, “I am free too.”

Lydia Mercer looked across the courtyard where her family was gathered around a large bonfire. It had been an eventful week. Temperance had turned over a new leaf. She was pleasant, polite and helpful. Lydia had rejoined the family dining table for evening meals as the atmosphere had transformed from quiet and uncomfortable back to the old warmth and laughter  she remembered before her grandson had married.  Temperance had even taken an interest in lace making and was assisting Lydia in her workroom.

She was so pleased and proud that her grandson had taken her advice. He looked happier than she had seen him for a long time.

She watched as Jonathon and his father dragged a large wooden mannequin to the bonfire. The two men heaved the mannequin into the flames.  The fire licked at the wood and it burned fiercely. Lydia was sure she heard Temperance screaming angrily but when she looked at her grandson she could only see Jonathon holding Temperance close to him. He was smiling and talking softly to her.

“I’m so glad he has happiness” she murmured, ” He deserves it.”

Temperance May: A Cautionary Tale

Temperance May was the third daughter of a third daughter. Her elder sisters, Gentility and Sincerity, had both married good, hardworking well positioned men. Temperance, like her mother,  had a pretty face, but was bossy, ill mannered and meddlesome. Like her mother before her, it had taken  a long time to find a suitor who was willing to marry such a vexatious woman.

Eventually, and much to her family’s relief, a match was found for Temperance. The third son of a third son; Jonathon Mercer worked in his father’s tailor’s shop. He wasn’t particularly bright but he stood to take over his father’s modest business (his brothers had both taken to the navy) and he loved Temperance with all his heart on sight.

Temperance was furious and screamed at her parents, much as her mother had screamed at her own,

“You’re useless! I deserve so much better than this!”

Jonathon’s father had soon found out his daughter-in-law’s  disagreeable nature and moved her to one the back rooms of his shop to sort pins and fold fabric with her husband. This kept her prying eyes busy and sheltered his customers from her poor manners and rude questions.

Temperance, as usual, was bitter and dissatisfied with her lot. She was angry at her parents for marrying her off to a poor idiot; she was angry with her in-laws for shutting her out of their business and she was angry with her husband for not demanding better for her,

“You’re useless!” She would scream at him, “I deserve so much better than you!”

One day as she sat seething in a storeroom sorting pins with her husband she looked, not for the first time, at the mannequin in the corner.  Temperance’s shrewd little mind ticked over. Her father-in-law’s business was popular and always busy; all the mannequins in the shop were used everyday. Except this one; it stood in the storeroom unused.

Why doesn’t your father use that mannequin?” she asked.

Poor brow-beaten Jonathon explained that the mannequin as only used once a year,

“For a special order.”

Temperance demanded to know what the special order was. Her husband explained that since he was a child, perhaps even before, his father had prepared a dress to fit the mannequin. Every year, on a particular night at the end of October, the mannequin was left fully dressed in the shop front window with the curtains drawn.

“And then what?” she asked.

“I don’t know” Jonathon replied. He went on to tell how the dress was never there the next morning but there was always a bag bulging with gold coins that his parents would carefully count into the safe.

Temperance’s eyes gleamed at the thought of gold.

“When will this dress be ready?” she snapped.

“Father will begin work on it in a week or two.”

Sure enough within a month Jonathon’s father had moved the mannequin from the storeroom into his private workroom. Bolts of fine fabric and delicate thread arrived which too disappeared into the master tailor’s room.

Temperance was dying of curiosity.

“Give me the key,” she demanded of her husband several time each week for weeks.

“No my sweet, I do not have the key. It is my father’s room”

“You’re useless!” she would scream, “I deserve so much better than you!”

Jonathon smoothed his wife’s ruffled feathers by showing her the family’s order books that stretched back to his Great-Grandfather’s business. Sure enough every year, in the last week of October, there was an order simply entered  ”FS”. In the very oldest book, the pages dusty and yellow aged there was an entry for a christening dress in the last week of October. The order was made out to The Family Sorensen.

“Who are the Sorensens?” she snapped at her husband. Jonathon wrung his hands together,

“I don’t know my love,” Before she could harangue him further he added, “I’ll ask Grandmother.”

Lydia Mercer was sharp-witted and quick. She was still able to help in the business and was in charge of the girls who produced the fine lace which Mercer’s were renowned for.

“Who wants to know?” she asked archly after her grandson had stuttered his question, “Temperance? Your wife? That girl is nothing but trouble. I told your father. You need to keep her in line before she brings you misfortune.”

Jonathon smiled weakly and shrugged in a defeated manner. His grandmother sighed and rolled her eyes.

“The Sorensons were a rich family who lived in the big house when I was a girl. Papa made clothes for them regularly. I remember they had a baby girl. Then I’m not sure, I think there was an accident. Papa never spoke of them again.”

“But Grandmother, why…”

The old woman cut him off sternly,

“That is all you and your meddling little wife need know. You watch her son. Mark my words, she’s trouble,” Lydia looked at her grandson and smiled sadly, “You deserve better than her.”

One Sparkling Night

 All the fire sprites were excited. No, they were beyond excited - they were ecstatic. They caught sight of the humans setting up the fireworks display and immediately began bouncing and zooming around. Fire works were the highlight of the year for them. Last year, the big fireworks display hadn’t been held, and all there was were some sparklers and a few illicit Roman candles, firecrackers and bottle rockets. The year before, it was pouring rain, which spoiled the fun. The year before that, it was a small display and only half of the fire sprites got to play. Summer wasn’t terribly fun, anyway, without woodstoves and fireplaces to inhabit. There were barbeques to play in, of course, but they only lasted a few hours. Campfires weren’t near the town. So the fourth of July was the big day for the fire sprites, one they looked forward to all year round.

Sometime during the day on the fourth, most likely in the early evening, all the sprites would congregate near where the launching tubes for the fireworks were. Humans tended to stay away from these because they were dangerous, so the sprites were fairly safe in gathering together so many at a time. Then each sprite would choose a launcher and settle in to wait. As soon as the firework was launched, the fun began. The sprite would ride the firework, zooming high into the air and then, just as it exploded, jump off and play in the sparks and colors. Then each sprite would float down again, glowing from the fire of the explosion. No one noticed a stray spark or so drifting to the ground. The best fireworks were the ones launched all together - then the sprites would play together and dart all through the bright fiery glitter. It was a day made for fire sprites.

This year, the sprites met early in the evening, before it began to get dark. They worked out who got which fireworks - it turned out there were enough for three rides each - depending on the order the fireworks were going up in. Then they snuck carefully over to the launching tubes to settle in and wait for the ride.

As the first sprite began to enter the first tube, there was a shout. The sprite popped back out again in shock. There was something already in there! Another fire sprite, a strange one, popped his head out of the tube. “Just what do you think you’re doing, trying to get into my firework!” the strange fire sprite snarled.

“Excuse me?! Your firework?! This one is mine! I called it and I intend to ride it. Just who do you think you are, anyway? This is our territory, and you don’t belong here!” answered the local fire sprite indignantly.

“Yeah, where did you come from? Go away!” the other fire sprites joined in.

Several other heads popped out of nearby tubes, and then others, right down the line. The whole display appeared to be taken over with strange fire sprites.

“I think you better just run along home now,” sneered the fire sprite in the tube. “We are the ones who are riding this display, not you. This is our territory. We get in the fireworks cases at the factory and ride along. That’s what we do. All the fireworks are our territory!” He smirked.

The local fire sprites looked at one another and then at the huge numbers of strange fire sprites already in the launching tubes. The little sprite who had been confronting the strange fire sprite shrugged and drooped and flitted slowly off. The rest of the group followed.

As soon as they were out of sight behind a building, they stopped and regrouped.

“What do they think they’re doing, claiming all the fireworks?”

“Yeah, that’s not fair!”

“Somebody should teach them a lesson, that’s what should happen!”

“Yeah, and I say we should be the ones to do it!”

Everyone stopped and looked at the sprite who had said this. He stood there with his chin up defiantly and his arms crossed.

“You think we should be the ones to teach them a lesson?”

“How’re we going to do that?”

The sprite replied, “I’m not sure, but I say their free ride is over. We’re going to stop the greedy so-and-so’s, and we’re going to do it now.”

The sprites muttered among themselves for a few moments and then they began to plot. The rebellious sprite was right. This was War.

As the day spent itself and the sun began to set, the fire sprites readied themselves for battle. One of the littlest ones found his way into the control area where there were many humans, and hid carefully. He noted what was what on the control board - after all, electricity is a form of fire - and decided on his course of action. He slipped back out to report to the other sprites, who nodded and set off for the appropriate areas.

Each sprite except for the one who went back to the control room silently hid by a launch tube.  The control sprite carefully waited, and then, at full dark, just as the moon cleared the horizon, he struck.  The humans who worked the controls were not paying much attention because it was not yet time for the show to begin, so the sprite had no trouble in setting off all the controls at once.

Every firework began to launch. As each firework cleared its launch tube, the sprite waiting beside it jumped aboard the hurtling firework and tried to knock the sprite already aboard it flying. The air was filled with shooting fireworks and sparks and colors. Many of the fireworks careened into each other, bouncing off in all directions. A few exploded as soon as they collided, but others did not. Some of the sprites on the fireworks fought back, and the battles sent the fireworks flying in still more directions. They flew far off course, zinging away towards where the crowd was gathered to watch the spectacle, zooming back towards the control area, and flying in strange loops and spirals high into the sky. The fire sprites fighting aboard the fireworks barely noticed.

Humans ran screaming as the fireworks buzzed them and threatened to go off in their midst. The people in the control booth were yelling and cursing and trying to figure out what had gone wrong. The sprite who had set everything off at once slipped away to watch the fun enviously.

Fireworks exploded, colors blooming and glowing against the night sky.  There were cracks and pops and booms that echoed through the night and shower upon shower of colored sparks. The entire sky was alight with color and fire. All of the fire sprites, both the local ones and the usurpers, stopped fighting in the wonder of the moment and jumped off to dart in and out of the sparks and colors. They played in the night sky amid the confusion of a hundred fireworks going off all at once. All of the fighting was forgotten in those few wonderful moments of fire and color in the sky. The sky was completely filled as all of the fireworks exploded at the same time. It was an incredible sight, and the sprites were in the middle of it. They had never had such a wonderful time in all the years they had been hitching rides on the fireworks.

The fireworks finished in a few last twinkling sparks and random pops. It had been spectacular, and spectacularly fun for the fire sprites. As the last of the sparks died out, the sprites coasted to the ground replete with pleasure.  The strange sprites ran as soon as they hit the ground, never to be seen again.

The people who had come to watch shook their heads. The show had been incredible, they agreed, but clearly there had been some malfunction to cause all the fireworks to go off at once.

The people in charge of setting off the fireworks were puzzled. They could find no reason for the fireworks to have all gone off at once.

The fire sprites were delighted. They planned to do this again, next year.

- She Wolf (c) 2007

Goldilock being Goldilock

Goldilock, being Goldilock, just loves to test out beds and comfy chairs in other people’s places.
by Heather Blakey

The Tortoise and the Hare - A Modern Variation

Terry and Jack worked in the same office. Jack was one of those good looking, athletic sorts of fellows. He was always seen around town with a different lady friend. His desk was always tidy and clean and he was always bragging about how he finished all his projects before they were due, and how well he did them. He worked out at the gym every day and spent quite a lot of money on his clothing - it always fit him perfectly and looked good on him. His teeth were capped, his hair was styled, and he always had a new joke to tell people. He looked good and he knew it. He was self-confidence personified.Terry was quiet, and shy. He wore thick glasses and usually looked rather rumpled. He spent his lunch hour quietly at his desk, usually with a book. No one ever saw him out on the town. His desk was usually filled with papers and projects and he was always busy. He was always polite when people talked to him, but they usually snickered behind his back and called him “Geek” and “Nerd”. He just ignored them.

One day the boss called both Jack and Terry into his office.

“I have a big project,” he said. “It’s an important one. The success of this project could double the profits of this company in the next quarter. You two are my best workers. I want the two of you each to put together a presentation - the man whose ideas are chosen will receive a promotion and a big bonus. You have a week. Now get out there and get going!”

Jack looked at his boss and then gave Terry a sideways look and winced.

“What’s the matter, Jack, eat something for lunch that disagreed with you?”

“Huh? Oh, no sir, I mean, I was just…”

“Get going, Jack. If you’re as good as you say you are, you have this in the bag.”

As the two men turned to leave, the boss added, “By the way, Terry, nice job on that last project.”

Jack gave Terry a nasty look as Terry turned and thanked the boss quietly.

Both men hurried back to their cubicles to start work on the project.

For Terry, starting work on the project meant doing research on the project and all the work they had done for that company in the past.

For Jack, it meant stopping to gossip with the other office workers about how he had this one made - he would win it hands down. How could that Terry even begin to think he could compete with a winner like Jack? Why, hadn’t Jack graduated from one of the best colleges in the country? Terry had just gone to State. Jack had been here longer, too, and knew the company better… There were a hundred reasons that Terry should just give up and tuck his tail between his legs and run away home. He just wasn’t ready to play with the big boys! Jack laughed heartily and spent the rest of the afternoon planning how he would spend his bonus.

In his office, the boss smiled and leaned back in his chair. He had a pretty good idea how things would turn out, but it would be fun to watch it all develop. He liked to set up little challenges like this. It kept the workers on their toes.

For the next two days, both men worked on research and began to plan their presentations. Jack would pop into a co-worker’s cubicle and toss a few ideas around and bask in the admiration of his peers. Terry stayed in his own workspace and worked diligently.

By the fourth day, Jack had actually settled into his cubical and appeared to be working diligently. Terry, of course, had been doing this all along. However, if someone looked carefully at what Jack was doing, they would discover that he was really playing solitaire on his computer. He also spent some time on the phone, asking out a different girl every night.

Finally, it was the last day. Terry had an enormous pile of papers on his desk and a portfolio full of his presentation. Still, he stayed at his desk and worked. Jack also had a portfolio full of his presentation. However, his desk was clean and tidy. It didn’t look like he had worked on anything.

The two men went into the boss’s office to give their presentations. Jack went first. His presentation was a little rough around the edges, but the overall thing was brilliant. His ideas sparkled as brightly as his capped teeth. He smiled and gestured with great flourishes and generally was very impressive. Clearly, he was just as good as he said he was. At last he sat down with a satisfied look on his face. “Over to you, Terry old man,” he said.

Terry nervously set up his presentation. It was finished, polished, and every bit as brilliant as Jack’s presentation. His wasn’t a theatrical presentation, but it was calm and competent. He obviously knew what he was talking about. Jack grew more and more nervous as it went on, fidgeting in his chair and running his fingers through his hair.

Finally, Terry came to the last point. 

“And to sum it all up,” he said, “I think that you should go with Jack’s ideas. His presentation was good, his ideas were brilliant, and I think he should win.” Terry set down his pointer and stood there with a slight smile on his face.

Jack looked at him with his mouth gaping open. “Look here, I agree with you that I should win and everything, but what the hell?”

“Indeed, Terry, why are you saying this? Your presentation was excellent as well. You two are my best workers, even though you are quite different in style.” The boss frowned and leaned forward. “And if this is some gimmick to make me choose you, it is certainly going to backfire on you!”

Terry shook his head and said, “No, it’s not that. It’s just that while I was researching the company I found out what a great company it is. It has wonderful benefits, really nice people, and better pay. I applied for a job there, interviewed yesterday, and this morning they called to tell me I got the job. I don’t want to win this because I won’t be here. I’ll get better pay, an office of my own, and lots of the people are - well, they’re like me. What you call geeky. The atmosphere there seems to be much nicer and more tolerant and people like to work together on things. I’ll be much happier there. So, this is my two weeks’ notice.” He placed an envelope on the boss’s desk. Then he turned to Jack, who was still sitting there with his mouth falling open. “Jack, I wish you the best of luck in your new position! I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Terry picked up his things and whistled a little tune as he left the office, nodding at the boss as he went.

- She Wolf (c) 2007

4 Responses to “The Tortoise and the Hare - A Modern Variation”

The Hare and the Tortoise

Harvey was confident, arrogant, sarcastic, ruthless, determined and blessed with the body of a multi-Olympian gold medalist. Admittedly he ate the right food, heaps of vegetables, particularly carrots (no spectacles on his agenda) and he took plenty of exercise. He enjoyed nothing more than an early morning boxing bout with his peers, primarily because he always won and left most of them sprawled on the grass with bloody noses and black eyes. His prize for winning was that they should form a guard of honour when he had finished knocking their teeth out so they could applaud and chant, ‘Harvey is the King.’ The male population did not like him (rampant jealousy) but some of the girls, more than aware of his faults, could not resist the rippling muscles and toned athletic torso - in addition to the fact that he was distinctly cute and had a nice way with the ladies. ‘Nice’ ladies did not fall over themselves to date him (even though their boyfriends weren’t nearly so handsome) but there were plenty who would forgive most things for big brown eyes, floppy, Hugh Grant hair, sparklingly white teeth and a macho strut. Besides, Harvey toned it down when the guys weren’t around, he didn’t have to compete and as he fancied himself the thoughts of his latest bit of eye candy were completely immaterial.

Helen liked Harvey rather a lot. She was nice looking but not gorgeous, intelligent but not brilliant, endearingly shy, short on confidence and far more popular (with both sexes) than she realised. It never crossed her mind for so much as a second that a chap like Harvey would even notice her because regardless of his faults he usually had a very pretty lady on his arm. “Another dumb blonde,” was often heard to be muttered by those females who believed him to be in desperate need of a personality transplant but it wasn’t like that with Helen. She was so good-natured people felt protective towards her and sincerely wished she could develop a crush on a more modest, if less attractive fellow. She worshipped him from afar without expecting the admiration to be to be acknowledged and certainly not reciprocated. As it happened Helen was quite wrong. Harvey had noticed her and didn’t mind being the object of desire by a girl who was liked so unreservedly by so many. It would help his kudos if he could snare her and open doors to the more glamorous and intelligent members of her social circle who would find him irresistible once he was up close and personal. He was fed up with them looking down their snooty little noses at him and it was his intention to reel one in, make her fall in love and break her heart. In the meantime he enjoyed riling them and teased Helen with a flashing smile or a slight inclination of his head whenever she was in the vicinity.

Spring announced its arrival as a carpet of early flowers bloomed and the grass grew thick and lush. Harvey’s thoughts, and those of many other young bucks, turned both to the annual March athletic events and affairs of the heart. He had spent the winter running one sprint after another, with a fair amount of endurance work thrown in and his body was at its peak, beautifully toned and fine tuned. Helen could not stop herself yearning to be held in those strong, rippling arms against that firm, sculpted chest as he looked down at her with those big, beautiful eyes. She knew all about his faults but the physical attraction was overwhelming; she had the mother of all crushes on a jerk (not her description) but these things happen. In her heart of hearts she kept hoping he’d mellow but as usual he was strutting around the place, whistling, shadow boxing and singing songs about how he’d win the medallion and all the cups for athletic prowess at the end of the month. One or two young  lads were pitching a case to be competitive and ready to de-throne him but it was the bravado of extreme youth and no one could take them seriously.

For the first time in the history of the March meet the governing body had scheduled a long distance race into the programme. It was a half-marathon and although Harvey was king of the sprints he’d never participated in a distance race, no one had. His endurance work would give him a huge advantage but he kept it to himself; he wanted to steal a march on his rivals and astonish them with his super human fitness. He also decided to make a move on Helen, it would make her day and allow him to wind up a lot of nice people. Her girl friends had brothers who were not sprinters but competing in the races for the first time, the half marathon had whipped up a lot of new interest. He also enjoyed the notion of laying on the bragging which he knew would get back to them and mess with their minds. Harvey wasn’t just a jock, as the Americans say, he had a good brain and was not adverse to the use of psychology if there was a chance of it sharpening his cutting edge still further.

One Saturday when groups of young folk were lolling in the park and after an early morning 15 mile run Harvey decided to make a move on Helen. He strolled over with his usual swagger and asked her if she would like to go for a walk with him. There were mutters of, ‘Go away,’ ‘Take a hike,’ ‘No she wouldn’t,’ ‘Tell him to push off,’ and a number of black looks and scowls. The girls moved closer to Helen who had been struck dumb and turned scarlet but gradually recovered her composure and stared at Harvey. The comments and nasty looks meant nothing to him and he tilted his head to one side, smiled and tapped her hand. ‘Hey, come for a walk, you know you want to and I’d love to get to know what’s hiding behind that long fringe and shy exterior. Take a chance, I don’t bite, honest and you might enjoy yourself, come on, walk with me.’ He reached out his hand and before she could say anything they were making their way towards the river and a well worn path that was skirted by trees - it was commonly referred to as ‘Lovers’ Lane.’ Helen sneaked looks at Harvey as they walked and he glanced at her as she tried not to bubble over with excitement; she was not at all like his usual girlfriends and her naivety tickled him. After a while they struck up a conversation and without admitting it to each other were pleasantly surprised to find that it was easy, there were no uncomfortable silences or awkward pauses. He made sure to ask Helen about herself and she was delighted to find that he was quieter and more thoughtful than she had imagined. Her friends would have been astonished because this was a completely different boy to the braggart who lorded it over his peers  and was so universally disliked. As they strolled they held hands, skimmed stones over the water and imitated the ducks who squawked wildly when the stones splashed within a few feet of the nests they were building. Helen was rather a good mimic and Harvey was frequently in stitches as she loosened up and allowed a lovely sense of humour to show itself.

Eventually Helen started to flag so they looked for a dry patch of grass where they could sit down and lean against a tree. Harvey did a few stretches because he didn’t want his legs to stiffen and Helen brought up the subject of the forthcoming athletics tournament. He had no hesitation in telling her that it was his ambition to make a clean sweep, he intended to win everything and would succeed because there was no one who could touch him, he was peerless. He was not in the habit of talking about his sporting prowess in a quiet and serious manner because it had never been required. Arrogant posing in front of possible competitors was his customary style and previous girlfriends had never expressed any interest in the subject. As he finished his warm down Helen suddenly decided to tell him about Tommy.

Tommy was Helen’s younger brother by about a year and he was lame, he had walked with a pronounced limp since the age of six when his leg had been mangled in an accident. He had been a real tearaway, physically active, one of those kids who wanted to be outdoors all the time. After his accident he went inside himself but having a naturally exuberant nature came to terms with the problem and did as much as he possibly could. He was bright, a quick learner and as he grew up proved to be a popular lad who was always game for a laugh, had plenty of friends and was never caught feeling sorry for himself. Unfortunately in recent years because of the way he walked other problems flared up in his back and hips and over the winter he had experienced frequent spells of  depression. When he found out that there was going to be a half-marathon in the athletics events he perked up, ironically the longer race had captured his imagination and provided him with something else to think about. He went out everyday with a specific aim to see how far he could jog/walk before he collapsed. There had never been any point in him entering a sprint but an endurance race was completely different and even with his problems he felt sure he could give it a shot. Helen and her parents knew that everyone else would question his logic but he had always been a fighter and that mattered immensely, he had to have a goal. He had taught himself to jog/walk when he was eight and now he wanted to try it out in competition. As far as he was aware the other competitors weren’t really training hard, if at all, and he believed if he built himself up (ever the optimist!) there was no reason why he couldn’t do well, very well, even win! Obviously there was Harvey to contend with but Tommy convinced himself that perhaps he’d be too cocksure, underestimate the distance and possibly come a cropper. What he didn’t know was that the other runners had agreed to stay up late the night before, pick up injuries and knobble Harvey; (she didn’t know how) basically they were going to throw the race so that Tom could have the day of his life. It was a very nice ‘gesture’ made by thoughtful, generous kids. As they leaned against the trees and the river gurgled on its way Helen happily divulged the whole secret to the one person who hadn’t been given a chance to say if he’d go along with it and also had a dream of his own.

Harvey had listened intently as Helen told her brother’s story and smiled. He knew about Tom’s accident and over many years had quietly admired his pluck and spirit. Helen squeezed his hand and felt herself melt under his gaze, he was even more gorgeous than her fantasies. She didn’t pursue the conversation, (monologue) and she certainly didn’t presume to ask Harvey if he would talk to the boys and agree to the plan. Helen had just enjoyed her own day of days and when Harvey asked if he could see her again she was in seventh heaven. Very much the gentleman he escorted her home so when they bumped into Tom at the gate and spent ten minutes in light hearted banter it placed the cherry on the icing on top of the cake. Helen thanked Harvey for a lovely day and after a bit of chit-chat they made arrangements to meet again the following afternoon; a second date meant that they were officially an item.

As the days passed Harvey intensified his training but cut back on the endurance work, he was happy to run six or seven miles two or three time a week - he believed that the sprint races needed speed, power and stamina and the long runs gave him time to think. As always he trained alone and if anyone had ever accused him of not being a team player he would have accepted the charge because he knew that in many ways he was a lone wolf. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of Tommy on one of his secret training sessions and his heart went out to him. The boy struggled with every step but he had got his body into fine shape and his perseverance was incredible. On those occasions when Harvey spotted him he made sure that Tommy didn’t know he’d been seen trying to run. Instead he veered off down a different track, shook his head and murmured to himself, ‘Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.’ Helen never raised the matter again but when the competition was only a few days away she told Harvey that they’d been invited to a party at Harry’s place. All the gang would be there and they were very keen for Harvey to turn up with Helen and enjoy himself, they were finally ready to welcome her boyfriend into the group. There were times when Harvey was genuinely stunned by Helen’s naivety but this excitement over the apparent proffering of an olive branch was amazing even for her. Having spilled the beans weeks before that her friends intended to ‘knobble’ him before the athletics competition how and when it might happen appeared to have dropped out of her memory bank. With only three days to go it seemed obvious to him that his rivals had something planned and a party would be an ideal place to scupper him. He smiled inwardly but said that he felt it was a real break through so they should both go, let their hair down and have a good time. He knew that Helen would tell her girl friends he was pleased to have been asked and of course they would relay that to their boyfriends.

At eight o’clock the following evening a whole group of people made their way to Harry’s and in no time at all the place was buzzing. There was plenty to eat and drink and a nice relaxed atmosphere, Helen moved quickly into the groove and Harvey looked for all the world as though he’d never been so happy to be with people who didn’t like him. He was never ignored and every time his glass emptied someone obligingly filled it up before he got a chance to put it down. The boys were all jokes and smiles and he couldn’t remember when he’d last received so many compliments or wished so much luck. What the hosts didn’t know was that as soon as someone charged his glass he swapped it for one full of coke or water and every plate of food was tipped away when no one was looking. If the plan to knobble him was with dodgy food and drink there was no way it would succeed because Harvey was always one step ahead of the game. He acted the part of being very tipsy on Elderflower wine and completely pogged on huge quantities of rich food extremely well but used the time to observe discretely and listen carefully to everything that was said. In fact he had a great time, particularly when he passed out and fell in a heap on the floor. As he was rolled out of the way and the ‘gang’ congratulated each other he was incredibly relieved that no one could see his face because keeping it straight was desperately hard. The only downside was Helen who panicked and cried but she allowed herself to be convinced he was fine and went back to her particular cronies who were making a list of what constituted the perfect boyfriend.

Harvey was not seen again until the day when he was listed to run in the one, two, four and eight hundred metre races followed by the 1500 metres with the half-marathon as a finale. He was the only competitor entered for every race and that in itself caused some major administrative difficulties. The governing body wanted to be as fair to him as they could but no matter what they did there was never going to be a way to make it possible for Harvey to race and have a proper break between each one. In the end they had to tell him that sometimes he would finish one race and on two occasions have less than twenty minutes before the next one; it was unfortunate but there were no precedents for competitors who wanted to run every distance and some of the board members were actually quite miffed! As for the man himself he did not look good at all which caused a ripple of stifled amusement in certain quarters. Helen tried to get him to herself so that she could ask how he felt but he stayed well within the competitors’ circle and never made eye contact so the poor girl could do nothing to assuage her sense of devastation and guilt. Tommy, who had been invited to the party but chosen to do a little more secret training could scarcely believe his eyes - and because he was an honest lad, his luck! Harvey looked distinctly green around the gills (he’d dabbled in a little face painting - sneaky!) and ready to drop before the first event of the day.

At five minutes to one o’clock the competitors were called to the first event. Spectators took up their positions, the noise abated and Harvey dragged himself to the starting line - unlike his fellow sprint merchants who were in tip-top condition. As they were called to their marks he underwent a remarkable transformation and sprang into action. His eyes bored down the track until he had absolute tunnel vision, he heard nothing other than the crack of a bullet to signal the release and they were off. The next noise he heard was the sound of applause (muted in some parts) as he broke the tape in a new all time record and showed his true colours to the gang who had been thoroughly sucked in. Helen jumped up and down clapping and waving in the manner of a future Posh Spice and Harvey blew her a kiss; Tommy, all admiration and regard felt his heart sink but was chuffed to bits when Harvey caught his eye and winked at him. Fifteen minutes later another record was set as Harvey left his rivals for dust in the two hundred metres and within the hour he was a triple gold medalist. It was the same story throughout the afternoon, first place, new record times and more gold medals to add to his collection - the boy could undoubtedly run!

Eventually the clock moved toward the start of  the half-marathon which the committee had been forced to delay so that Harvey could compete. They had been blessed with perfect weather and the spectators had kept themselves occupied eating their picnics and playing quick cricket and hide the carrot. The announcement of Tommy’s name in the field of runners was greeted with loud applause and beaming smiles whilst the announcement of Harvey’s’ name was greeted with amazement and dropped jaws. His achievements would already be discussed for years to come but it had not gone unnoticed that he had to be treated for cramp at the end of his last race and appeared to be carrying an injury. The other competitors who had spent the day with their feet up looked decidedly more spritely than Harvey expected for people who had partied hard and were supposed to be throwing the race. It crossed his mind that more than a few of them may have had last minute reservations and were hunting for personal glory. Tommy had moved to one side to focus on the task ahead so Harvey, who was also isolated, bided his time, moved closer, wished him luck and they were off.

The route was carefully marked out and there were officials, first aiders, drinks, distance signs, wet cloths and spectators from beginning to end. It was a real boost to hear shouts of encouragement along the way and it didn’t take long to see who was suffering. A few of the entrants had skimped on their preparation and completely misjudged how difficult it would be to run over thirteen miles. Harvey, at the back with Tommy and urging him on could see exactly what was happening to the rest of the field (twenty/twenty vision) and knew instantly that those in front were dropping like flies because they couldn’t take a step further. Any plans they had to throw anything melted away as the race spat them out cramped up, breathless, exhausted, vomiting and a brilliant shade of puce. Every time they passed a drop out Harvey grinned, mouthed the word ‘loser’ and fell back into stride with Tommy who was in fabulous shape. At six miles and over the philanthropic ’gang’ members did the decent thing and collapsed in a heap - which looked marvellously realistic, especially when the first aiders placed oxygen masks over their mouths and took them off the course on stretchers. Tommy had done more than enough training to recognise a sham when he saw one and in joint fourth place with three miles to go he knew he hadn’t seen one but his theories were confirmed, the drop outs had not trained for the distance and it was taking its toll.

At the eleven mile stage there were only three runners left and together Harvey and Tom were reeling him in. It was obvious that he couldn’t keep going and with only the last mile to come he was well out of it but trying hard to finish for the third place medal. When the final pair came into view there was the most enormous roar from the crowd and it sounded as though every last spectator was chanting, ‘Tommee, Tommee, Tommee.’ The youngster had paced himself superbly where as Harvey, on the back of five races , five wins and a cut in his endurance training looked and felt stiff. In addition he had been forced to alter his natural stride pattern and distance speed whch played havoc with his lower back. His body had screamed out to be set free after the first two hundred metres but he had compelled it to step side by side with Tommy. Harvey looked at his running mate and saw how much this reception and genuine success meant to him but also recognised that had it not been for the childhood accident the lad would have been a superb athlete. He patted him on the back, had a quiet word in his ear, stood tall, shrugged off the stiffness, unleashed the true power of his perfect frame and sprinted to the tape - his dream fulfilled. He had done it, he had made a clean sweep and won every race, it was simply remarkable. He allowed himself a moment to punch the air and at that point realised that the crowd noise had almost disappeared. It was as though they were all in shock, the chanting had stopped as soon as Harvey stepped up a gear and when he broke the tape there was little more than a ripple of polite applause. He turned round to urge Tommy home and the crowd came back to life to give another tumultuous cheer when he crossed the line in second place. How he had managed not only to get himself round the course but also to finish second was a testament to his dedication, application and spirit. He waved to the spectators, his family and the gang, took a few deep breaths, composed himself and reached out to Harvey where they hugged like comrades in a war zone. They stood like that for at least two minutes but when they broke away Tommy grabbed Harvey’s arm and raised it aloft - the spectators had no option other than to applaud because Tom conducted them with his other arm until the cheering could be heard in the next county. Helen, her heart fit to burst, clapped them both as tears of joy streamed down her face. It could have been a fairy tale.

                                                                                                    Jan

                          

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Author : jan2–>
• Date : 3 June 2007
• Categories : Folk and Fairy Tales

One response to “The Hare and the Tortoise”

4 06 2007

shewolfy728 (19:52:09) : edit

This is a wonderful take on the classic story. Harvey, Helen and Tommy all ring true, and, well, I liked the way it ended. The real success was obviously worth far more than a victory from a thrown race would have been.

The Fallen

 

Once upon a time, not so long ago, in the world of fairy tales, beyond the Faraway Tree, Ravens lived and worked. It was their responsibility to protect Lemurians and rescue the fallen ones.

The Tortoise and the Hare

Hare challenges Tortoise to a race, so they set a course measuring a mile. The course travels through the grounds of Riversleigh Manor, into the Murmuring Woods, around Crescent Lake and 200 feet past the Faraway Tree. Jack from the Giant’s Tale offers a pile of gold coins to mark the end of the race and to use as a purse for the winner.

Hare, rather a braggart, swears he can easily beat Tortoise, especially in such a long race. After all, what tortoise can race for a mile? Tortoise, himself quite an adventurer and smart and confident to boot, agrees to the plans and immediately begins to train.

The night before the big day, Tortoise retires early. He awakens refreshed and eats a breakfast of hearty grains. He slings a water bottle across his neck and walks quietly to the starting line while giving himself a pep talk.

In a nearby burrow, Hare gets up groggily. To pre-celebrate his victory, Hare and several of his best cronies visit a near-by ale house the night before and quaff drinks until they can barely see to walk home. On the day of the race, Hare fixes his breakfast, glugging three cups of strong coffee. Then Hare decides some extra energy would be in his best interest, so he gobbles his stash of taffy and licorice. He wraps some leftover lollipops and peppermints in a bandanna and rests it on his shoulder.

Tortoise arrives at the starting gate an hour before race time and studies the course. He stretches his muscles and concentrates on a successful showing. Hare hurries to the starting line two minutes before the race begins, bouncing up and down like a prize fighter readying for a match. Word has spread throughout the land, and curious to witness this odd spectacle, an enormous crowd of residents and creatures line the course.

Jack, who has put himself in charge, raises a red silk scarf he has borrowed from his mother. He swishes the scarf to the ground, and the two contestants begin. Hare takes off in bounds and soon is out of sight. Tortoise puts his nose to the ground, and starts a steady march forward. Tortoise is plowing along as he turns the first curve, and the audience gives him a cheer for his determination.

And so the race goes on. Tortoise moves, step by step. Occasionally he takes a sip of water. Hare, on the other hand, begins to tire as he scampers through the Murmuring Woods and wishes he had eaten breakfast.

“I need another energy boost,” thinks Hare. So he unfolds his bandanna and slurps down several lollipops. He still feels a little woozy so he finishes the lollipops and peppermints. Then he stands on his paws and peers back through the forest. He sees nothing, nor does he hear the crowd, so he strolls a bit, taking his time and singing a rollicking tune. “I will beat Tortoise by a very long win. I can beat anyone, creatures or men.” He runs out of breath and decides to slow a bit and make the race more competitive.

In the meantime, Tortoise marches along whispering to himself. “I will win. Yes, I will. I will win.” The crowd is so enthralled with Tortoise that they follow after him.

Hare reaches the outskirts of the Murmuring Woods, and still sees no one behind him. By now he has a terrible headache, perhaps from his pre-celebratory party. He lays on a heap of leaves and covers his eyes with his empty bandanna. He doesn’t fall asleep, because his poor head is splitting, but he listens carefully for Tortoise and the crowd.

And so it goes. Tortoise never stops. He plods along the path, stopping only for drinks of water. Tortoise is feeling fine; he’s not the least bit tired. Hare gets up from his rest, and tries to bounce down the trail. His head is still achy, and so he slows down to a walk. Hare is thirsty and he sees Crescent Lake through the woods. He rushes to the lake and gulps long drafts of warm water. Revived again, he hops towards the Faraway Tree. Water is sloshing in his belly and, of course, he develops a stomach-ache.

As Hare leans against a rock to calm his stomach, Tortoise slogs around the mud surrounding Crescent Lake. He refrains from drinking the murky lake water and instead sips from his own supply of clean liquid. He continues on the race, “one step, two steps, three steps, four steps,” never stopping to rest.

Poor Hare has more problems than he can imagine. He is a fine, fit hare, and yet today he feels off. As Hare passes The Faraway Tree, his limbs start cramping and again he must rest. He props himself against the Faraway Tree, only 200 feet from the finish line, and falls into a deep sleep.

Tortoise and the massive crowd approach Hare and the Farawat Tree. He is still sleeping soundly, curled around the tree trunk. Tortoise and the crowd tip-toe past the Hare, and Tortoise uses his last spurt of energy to amble the last leg and cross the finish line.

As the crowd cheers and raises Tortoise to their shoulders, Hare startles awake. He eyes the crowd ahead and grimaces when he sees Tortoise hoisted on their shoulders. He is stunned by this turn of events. Hare sprints to the finish line, but of course Tortoise has already won. Tortoise is carrying the pot of gold coins and smiling broadly.

It is time for Tortoise’s victory speech.

“Thank you, residents and creatures, for your support. Two strategies place me in the winner’s circle today.” The throng holds its applause, anxious to hear Tortoise’s keys to a successful race. “First, I prepared. I concentrated on the health of my body and mind, even though I knew it would be a tough go. I refused to listen to the words, ‘Tortoise can’t win.’ Instead I listened to the words, ‘Tortoise can win.’ Secondly, I persevered. I didn’t stop, no matter what. One foot in front of the other, over and over. I didn’t worry about Hare. I only concentrated on crossing the finish line.”

And so this tale has two morals.

(As for the Hare, he never, ever challenged anyone to a race again and he now eats a healthy breakfast every morning.)

Bo

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