Monday, June 25, 2018

Theka's Choice



                                                              Theka’s Choice
                                                     By Valerie L. Egar
           
Once upon a time, a very long time ago, a young girl, Theka, lived in a village at the edge of a dark forest.  She was an orphan, but managed to make her way.  She swept the sidewalk in front of the bakery every morning and the baker gave her a sweet roll. She earned a few coins weeding a widow’s garden. When the monsoons came, a rich merchant allowed her to sleep in his warehouse. Everyone in the village knew Theka and gave her what they could spare.
            Theka spent her day wandering.  She drank water from a clean spring at the edge of the forest and ate berries. Because she was lonely, she talked to the trees and flowers.
            “Hello, great tree. How are you today? Did you like the rain last night?”
            “Little flower, does the butterfly tickle when it touches you?”
            One day she climbed high into a tree and amused herself by singing.  For hours, she closed her eyes and sang a beautiful song. Opening her eyes, she was surprised. Birds of every size and color perched on the branches of the nearby trees. A tiger, a wolf, and a bear rested underneath the trees with deer, rabbits and a boar. 




So enchanted were the animals, they did not fear each other. They bowed their heads to Theka and walked back into the forest.
            Theka couldn’t wait to sing her song again. The next day, she climbed the tree, closed her eyes and once again sang the melody that called the animals. Once again, the birds and forest animals came to listen in peace. After that, Theka sang to them everyday.
            A hunter spied Theka talking to the trees one day and stayed hidden to watch her. He saw her climb a tree, heard her sing and saw the forest animals gather. He was disturbed by what he saw, but said nothing.
            Not long after, a tiger killed a farmer’s calf.  The village



was upset.  A tiger!  Tigers were dangerous. Who knew what else a tiger might do? Everyone gathered for a meeting.
“It’s no wonder!” the hunter yelled. He pointed at Theka. “She sings and calls wild animals out of the forest.  This is her fault!”
            When questioned, Theka was truthful. Yes, she sang a song. Yes, the animals came, but they were peaceful.  No, no one taught her the song. No, she didn’t understand why her song called the animals, it just happened that way.
            She heard a chorus of voices: “Her singing is dangerous!”  “Who knows where this kind of power leads?” “Unnatural, especially for a girl!” “She’s bewitched!”
            They ordered Theka to stop singing.
           “And if I don’t?” Theka dreaded giving up her songs. Singing was the only thing she had. 
            She looked at the stern faces, even those who had been kind to her, and knew the answer. They gave her a day to think about it.
            Theka spent the night high in her tree, looking at the stars and thinking. “What should I do, tree?” she asked and thought she heard an answer.
            Early in the morning, as the sun’s first rays peeked over the horizon, Theka walked into the forest. She knew she would miss her village, but she also knew she had a special gift people in her village didn’t understand.  She was a little bit frightened about how she would provide for herself, but also excited by her new adventure.
            The people in the village never saw Theka again. Some whispered a tiger ate her and others guessed she starved, but the few who ventured into the forest swore they heard singing high in the trees. One or two reported glimpsing her and after many years, more and more claimed to see her, sometimes high in a tree, other times, running on a forest path.  Hunters blamed her for misdirecting their arrows and calling the forest animals they hunted to safety.
If you walk in the forest and sit quietly with eyes that see and ears that hear, she will sing to you, too.   
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Copyright  2017 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied, reproduced or distributed without permission from the author.
Published April 12, 2017, Journal Tribune Sunday (Biddeford, ME).
   

            

Sunday, June 17, 2018

Rafe the Peddler's New Job








                           Rafe the Peddler’s New Job
By Valerie L. Egar

            No one could convince Princess Adeline that a suggestion box was a bad idea.
            When she heard crowds shouting in the street, her advisors explained the people had complaints about how she ruled the Kingdom. “If they think it’s so easy, tell them to make suggestions,” said the Princess.
            Princess Adeline was vain and greedy, so when she invited people to tell her how the Kingdom could be improved, she imagined them telling her to buy a crown with larger diamonds or pleading to rename the university Adeline U.  Those who advised the Princess did not imagine the same suggestions.
            When the day came to open the suggestion box, everyone in the castle was nervous. The cook burned the pastries. The housekeeper dusted the rug and swept the piano.
            “What’s the problem around here?” yelled the Princess. “Straighten up or you’ll all be working at the Royal Zoo!”
            “Perhaps I should look at the suggestions first, your Highness,” said the Steward.
            “Nonsense,” said the Princess. “I’m the Princess. I go first.” One by one, the Princess read the suggestions. Of 368 suggestions, 367 said the kingdom would be a much better place without the Princess.
Princess Adeline’s nose wrinkled and her lips twisted. Everyone waited for the tantrum. Then she said, “Can you imagine one person writing the same suggestion 367 times? What a crank!”
The advisors nodded, much relieved.
“What did the last one say?” asked the Steward.
“That I should take five years and travel the world. Now that’s something to think about.”
The following month, everyone shuddered as the Steward once again opened the suggestion box. Five hundred three suggestions. Five hundred two of them recommended the Princess give up her throne and the handwriting on some of them looked very familiar.
“What does the last one say?” asked the steward.
“That there’s a dog sled leaving for the Arctic and I might enjoy the ride.”
“One good suggestion out of 503 isn’t so bad,” said the Steward.
“I hate the cold!” shouted the Princess. Then, she started throwing things.
The next week in the castle was miserable for everyone except the Princess. She tied the Steward to the bed while he was sleeping. She cheated more than usual at croquet.  She practiced her bagpipe from midnight until 3 in the morning.
The Steward had heard about Rafe the peddler’s shenanigans selling coconuts as magic eggs and sent word that the Princess needed help. Surely changing people’s minds about the Princess couldn’t be harder than convincing people coconuts were magic.
A fanfare of trumpets announced Rafe’s arrival. “Your subjects don’t appreciate you as much as they should,” Rafe told Princess Adeline. “I’m here to help.”
            “I’m not changing,” announced the Princess. “Don’t even try.”
            “No need for you to change,” said Rafe. “It’s the people in your Kingdom who have a problem. They need to change.”
            “I like how you think!”
            The next day, Rafe unveiled his plan. “It’s time for you to travel through the kingdom kissing babies. Parents love important people kissing their children.”
            “Yuck!” said the Princess. “I hate babies!”
            “You don’t have to like them,” said Rafe. “You just have to kiss them.”
            Rafe escorted Princess Adeline to the Royal Park. When she kissed the first baby, she made a face and the baby started crying. “Shut up brat!” she yelled. “You’re getting tears on my good dress.”
            Rafe pulled the Princess away from the angry mob. “Maybe kissing babies wasn’t the best idea.”
            Rafe hung banners with portraits of the Princess on every street.  Billboards inscribed “Beloved Princess” lined the highways.  “The more people see you, the more they’ll like you,” he assured Princess Adeline.
            By the end of the week, every single portrait had a mustache or horns. Rafe began to think that convincing people that coconuts were magic eggs was much easier than overcoming the Kingdom’s dislike of the unpopular princess.
“I’ll have to try something else,” Rafe thought. 
         The next morning he showed up at the castle with a brass band.  “What you need is a song that honors you and show how special you are,” Rafe said. He lifted his baton. “Listen.” The trumpets blared as Rafe sang:
                        Addie, Addie, Princess fine,
                        You’re as sweet as Frankenstein.
                        Smarter than a porcupine,
                        We love you our Adeline!
“I’m not sure I like the rhymes,” complained the Princess.
            “Picky, picky,” said Rafe. “Not much rhymes with Adeline.”
            The first time the song was played in public, the Royal Order of the Porcupines complained that the song put porcupines in a bad light. After a brief court battle, the jury agreed and the song was banned forever.
            A month had almost passed and it would soon be time to once again open the suggestion box.  So far, nothing Rafe tried had worked. Princess Adeline was angry. “If I don’t see results when I open that suggestion box, you’re fired!”
            Rafe realized there wasn’t much he could do to make the people in the Kingdom like Princess Adeline. She was mean, self-centered and greedy. Banners with her portrait, patriotic songs and having her kiss babies was never going to change that.  Rafe tossed and turned all night, certain he was going to lose his job.
As he drifted off to sleep, he suddenly awoke with an idea. He slapped his head. “Why didn’t I think of that from the start?” Rafe knew exactly what he needed to do.
            In the morning, he strolled through the market. Stopping to buy a few mangoes, he chatted with the fruit vendor. “Oh, the Princess can be a bit difficult, but she pays me well,” he remarked. He lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t tell anyone but you, and I know you won’t tell anyone, but she’s building a mansion for me in the mountains.”
            At the fishmonger’s stall he said the Princess paid him in gold every week and mentioned the amount. The fishmonger’s eyes widened and he gasped. “Oh, dear,” Rafe said. “I see I’ve shocked you. Please don’t tell anyone. People might be upset.”
            Buying rice, Rafe paid the woman weighing it five times the price she asked. “Keep the change,” he said. “I can afford it. The Princess pays me so much, I don’t know what to do with all the money.” Then he added, “But please, don’t tell anyone.  I wouldn’t want anyone fearing their taxes might rise just because of me.”
Just as Rafe suspected, the market was soon abuzz with gossip about his excessive salary and his worthless job trying to make the Princess look good.
Later that week, the Steward opened the suggestion box. Princess Adeline smiled as she read the slips of paper. Seven hundred twenty-two said she should fire Rafe, one said she should step down, and one suggested she might enjoy collecting edible mushrooms and enclosed a book.
“Only one complaint about me!” said the Princess. “You have really turned things around!”

“Of course I did,” said Rafe. “As long as I’m here, I guarantee you’ll be more popular than ever.”

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Copyright 2018 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied, published or distributed without permission from the author.
Published June 17 and 24, Journal Tribune Sunday (Biddeford, ME).

Return of the Magic Egg Peddler



                                              
                         Return of the Magic Egg Peddler
                                                            By Valerie L. Egar

            A long time ago, a well-dressed peddler in a handsome donkey cart sold the townspeople of Dolton a wagon full of coconuts, saying they were ‘magic wishing eggs.’  “These eggs will grant whatever you desire, if handled properly,” he’d told them. Though the peddler intended the shipment for Dundershine, the townspeople of Dolton would not be outdone and offered the peddler ten times what the Dundershiners offered to pay. He took their money and hightailed it out of town.
            Though the Dolton villagers never expected to see him again, a year later his red cart wheeled into town on market day, just like the year before. His donkey was fatter and the peddler, who was tall with a well-trimmed beard, had added a few inches to his girth. Like the year before, the cart was full of coconuts.           
            Word spread that the scoundrel who cheated them was back in town. An angry crowd quickly gathered. The peddler stood. “Good citizens of Dolton, how happy I am to see to you!”
            “We want our money back!” shouted one man.
            “You’re a fraud,” yelled a woman.
             The peddler frowned. “Did the magic eggs not work?”
            The crowd roared. “Not one of ‘em!” 
            The peddler held up his hands. “I am on my way to Dundershine, since they missed their shipment last year and I always keep my promises. Would I drive through Dolton if I cheated you? No! You’d never see me again.”
            A few people in the crowd nodded. That they would never see him again if he were a cheater seemed logical.
            “I guarantee my products. I told you that last year. If you used the eggs properly, I stand ready to give each and every one of you your money back.”  He took a fat wallet from his pocket and placed it on the cart seat. “Now step right up and tell me why you were dissatisfied.”
            A gruff man walked to the front. “’Cause it didn’t work! I held it like you said and asked for a pretty wife, a house and a good horse. Nothing happened. 
            The peddler shook his head. “How many people here made more than one wish?”
    Most raised their hands. 
            The peddler sighed. “Do two or three chicks come out of one egg? No. One egg, one wish.  More than that is greedy.”
            The people who had made lots of wishes felt embarrassed.  One egg, one wish made sense. They’d done it wrong.
              “Next.”
             “I need money. I held the magic egg and imagined gold,” a woman said, “and I don’t have a drop of it.”
            The peddler considered and shook his head.  “I notice your dress is gold color.”
            “Like mustard!” the woman cackled. The crowd laughed.
             “And I’ll bet you got the dress after you made the wish.”
            “Yes, I did,” she said. 
            “You visualized the color,” the peddler said, “and a dress that color came to you. I’m afraid the magic egg worked, but you weren’t specific enough.”
            The woman looked confused.  
“Next time visualize coins, gold coins. Piles of them. That will work.”
            Fewer people were grumbling, more convinced than ever they’d used the magic eggs incorrectly. 
            A young boy stepped forward. “But the eggs don’t work!” he cried. “I wished for a dog and nothing happened.”
The peddler pointed to the dog standing next to the boy. “Is that your dog?” 
            The boy nodded. “I bought him from a farmer when the egg didn’t work.”
            The peddler smiled. “Then the egg DID work. You wished for a dog and got a dog. You didn’t think it was going to hatch from the magic egg did you?”
            The boy reddened. “I guess not.”
           “Anyone else?” the peddler asked.
            The town lawyer came to the cart and shook the peddler’s hand, smiling. “I was angry the eggs didn’t work and wished I’d see you again to give you a piece of my mind and here you are!”  
“No better proof the eggs work than that!” said the peddler.
 The lawyer agreed. “Tell me, why are you wasting the magic eggs on Dundershine when we’d be happy to buy them?”

Like the story? Please share with your FACEBOOK friends, like and comment. 
Copyright 2018 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied or reproduced without permission from the author.
Published June 10, 2018 Journal Tribune Sunday (Biddeford, ME).

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Return of the Magic Egg Peddler



                            Return of the Magic Egg Peddler
                                                            By Valerie L. Egar

            A long time ago, a well-dressed peddler in a handsome donkey cart sold the townspeople of Dolton a wagon full of coconuts, saying they were ‘magic wishing eggs.’  “These eggs will grant whatever you desire, if handled properly,” he’d told them. Though the peddler intended the shipment for Dundershine, the townspeople of Dolton would not be outdone and offered the peddler ten times what the Dundershiners offered to pay. He took their money and hightailed it out of town.
            Though the Dolton villagers never expected to see him again, a year later his red cart wheeled into town on market day, just like the year before. His donkey was fatter and the peddler, who was tall with a well-trimmed beard, had added a few inches to his girth. Like the year before, the cart was full of coconuts.          
            Word spread that the scoundrel who cheated them was back in town. An angry crowd quickly gathered. The peddler stood. “Good citizens of Dolton, how happy I am to see to you!”
            “We want our money back!” shouted one man.
            “You’re a fraud,” yelled a woman.
             The peddler frowned. “Did the magic eggs not work?”
            The crowd roared. “Not one of ‘em!”
            The peddler held up his hands. “I am on my way to Dundershine, since they missed their shipment last year and I always keep my promises. Would I drive through Dolton if I cheated you? No! You’d never see me again.”
            A few people in the crowd nodded. That they would never see him again if he were a cheater seemed logical.
            “I guarantee my products. I told you that last year. If you used the eggs properly, I stand ready to give each and every one of you your money back.”  He took a fat wallet from his pocket and placed it on the cart seat. “Now step right up and tell me why you were dissatisfied.”
            A gruff man walked to the front. “’Cause it didn’t work! I held it like you said and asked for a pretty wife, a house and a good horse. Nothing happened.
            The peddler shook his head. “How many people here made more than one wish?”
    Most raised their hands.
            The peddler sighed. “Do two or three chicks come out of one egg? No. One egg, one wish.  More than that is greedy.”
            The people who had made lots of wishes felt embarrassed.  One egg, one wish made sense. They’d done it wrong.
              “Next.”
             “I need money. I held the magic egg and imagined gold,” a woman said, “and I don’t have a drop of it.”
            The peddler considered and shook his head.  “I notice your dress is gold color.”
            “Like mustard!” the woman cackled. The crowd laughed.
             “And I’ll bet you got the dress after you made the wish.”
            “Yes, I did,” she said.
            “You visualized the color,” the peddler said, “and a dress that color came to you. I’m afraid the magic egg worked, but you weren’t specific enough.”
            The woman looked confused. 
“Next time visualize coins, gold coins. Piles of them. That will work.”
            Fewer people were grumbling, more convinced than ever they’d used the magic eggs incorrectly.
            A young boy stepped forward. “But the eggs don’t work!” he cried. “I wished for a dog and nothing happened.”
The peddler pointed to the dog standing next to the boy. “Is that your dog?”
            The boy nodded. “I bought him from a farmer when the egg didn’t work.”
            The peddler smiled. “Then the egg DID work. You wished for a dog and got a dog. You didn’t think it was going to hatch from the magic egg did you?”
            The boy reddened. “I guess not.”
           “Anyone else?” the peddler asked.
            The town lawyer came to the cart and shook the peddler’s hand, smiling. “I was angry the eggs didn’t work and wished I’d see you again to give you a piece of my mind and here you are!” 
“No better proof the eggs work than that!” said the peddler.
 The lawyer agreed. “Tell me, why are you wasting the magic eggs on Dundershine when we’d be happy to buy them?”

Like the story? Please share with your FACEBOOK friends, like and comment. 
Copyright 2018 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied, reproduced or distributed without permission from the author.
Published June 10, 2018  Journal Tribune Sunday (Biddeford, ME).