Journey and the Storyteller: The Second Tale

 Journey and the Storyteller

 The Second Tale

Journey and the Storyteller lived far away from anyone and everyone. The Storyteller was Journey’s teacher, mentor, friend. Everything Journey was could be attributed to the Storyteller.

Once upon a time, the Storyteller found Journey and asked if he wanted to learn the meaning of life. Journey felt a rush of pride that his mentor had thought his knowledge already so advanced they were skipping right to the biggest lesson of all.

“Of course,” Journey said. “The answer everyone is looking for.”

“Yes,” the Storyteller agreed. “Let us consult the greatest minds in all the realm.”

They travelled far away to the city of scholars and the Storyteller arranged to meet with the four wisest entities in all existence: a roach, an elephant, a fox, and a tree. 

The cockroach perched on a large boulder and gave Journey its answer: “I know the meaning of life as I’ve survived the ravages of war and the hardships of drought. The meaning of life is to surmount.”

Journey nodded.

The elephant stood with perfect posture and gazed upon Journey with imminent intelligence: “I know the meaning of life as I remember all that has passed. I have gained perspective by seeing how events interconnect. The meaning of life is community.”

Journey nodded.

The fox dismissed his two contemporaries and favored Journey a wise wink: “I know the meaning of life because I’m not fooled by academic claptrap. I’m clever enough to see the value of fun. The meaning of life is zest.”

Journey nodded.

Then the Storyteller presented the tree. The great oak just stood still and silent, as a tree could not talk. Journey and the Storyteller gave equal time to the tree and then departed, starting their long walk back home.

“Which of the wise entities was correct in their summation of the meaning of life, my boy?” 

“Was any one closer to truth than the other?” Journey asked.

“One is always closer to truth than another,” the Storyteller answered. “The tree was wisest.”

“But the tree didn’t give any answer,” Journey said.  

“Exactly. Because there isn’t an answer, my boy. It’s always better to remain silent than to guess foolishly.” 

Journey and the Storyteller: The First Tale

 Journey and the Storyteller

 The First Tale

Journey and the Storyteller lived far away from anyone and everyone. The Storyteller was Journey’s teacher, mentor, friend. Everything Journey was could be attributed to the Storyteller.

Once upon a time, the Storyteller found Journey and asked if he wanted to go fishing. Journey was always eager to learn new things and had never fished before. He eagerly tagged along. 

The Storyteller always had a lesson to go along with every event, so Journey asked, “What will we learn today?”

“Well,” said the Storyteller, “fishing for rabbits is very different from fishing for fish.”

“Rabbits?” Journey asked with a gulp.

“Certainly. It’s rabbit season, my boy.”

“I don’t know about fishing for rabbits,” Journey said.

“Fishing for fish is too mundane. Everyone fishes for fish. Very expected. Very droll. If I’ve taught you anything in all our time together, you should always endeavor to achieve the extraordinary. The idea of fishing for fish...” The Storyteller yawned for effect.

They arrived at a small pond surrounded by a lush green lawn. A grassy knoll overlooked the water. Journey and the Storyteller surveyed the little lake. Journey could see wet cottontails pop out of the surface here and there, a pair of soggy ears break the surface now and again, and even one or two small bunnies leap from the surface of the pond before diving back down. Journey pictured the cute little fluffy animals all over beneath the placid surface.

“This will be extraordinary,” the Storyteller exclaimed.

The Storyteller baited a big hook with a juicy carrot more orange than the ripest pumpkin. He cast the line out far into the middle of the pond. He handed Journey another vegetable and the boy did the same. Journey cast his line as well. Then they waited for a bite.

Journey imagined the hook catching between cute bunny buckteeth. Or the sharp edge poking on the puff of a cottontail. Or snagging one pink little nose. Or piercing a long rabbit ear. Journey shuddered.

Then the line grew taut. Something snatched the end of Journey’s line. He held tight, although he really wanted to let go. What horrors awaited him at the other end? He reeled his catch in. The submerged prey struggled beneath the surface. Journey imagined a cute fluffy critter with a hook lodged in its throat.

With a mighty yank, Journey pulled the catch from the pond. Dangling at the end of the line was a fish, flapping, scaly and slippery and perfectly plain. Just a fish. Only a fish.

The Storyteller grinned proudly. There had been a lesson in their activity after all. The Storyteller gave him the insight as they walked home with supper in their pail:

“Always expect the extraordinary—that way you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the mundane.”