a fable by Dom Conlon

ONCE THERE WAS A BOY who loved his daddy so much that when the time came for them to say goodbye he cried and said “take me with you. I want to be by your side and see the world.”

But the boy’s daddy shook his head and said “I cannot, my love. I cannot. I must go to the end of the world and find my fortune. Then you and I can live together again.”

And then, beneath the watchful glare of the Mayor, he left. The boy watched him from the end of the path until he could no longer tell which was his daddy and which were the trees on the horizon.

Now, the truth of the matter was this: the boy’s daddy was not going to find his fortune and he would not be coming back again. Being too poor to even feed or clothe himself, the man had surrendered his son into the care of the Mayor who had money but no children to carry on his legacy.

The boy missed his daddy very much and so, one day, he packed a bag with a comb of honey, a flask of water and two crusts of bread from the Mayor’s store, and ran away in search of his daddy.

After he had been walking for a long time, the boy saw a man in a tree and ran to him. As he came closer, however, the boy saw that the man was not his daddy and called up to him. “I am looking for my daddy, he lives far away at the end of the world. Have you seen him?”

The man shooed the boy away, shouting “this is a dangerous place, go away before the bear sees you and eat you.”

The boy looked and saw a bear circling the tree. The tree was tall with thick branches and from one of the branches hung a large beehive. The bear lived by the tree, often shaking it and frightening the man.

Taking his bag from his back, the boy took out the comb of honey and threw it as far as he could. Smelling the sweet treasure, the bear ran after it and the man in the tree climbed down. “Thank you,” he said. “I have been in that tree for so long and my son will have all but grown up thinking I was a bad father who did not pass on his wisdom. I will go to him now. I have not seen your daddy but this is not the end of the world. Keep walking, but be careful.”

And with that, the man left.

The boy walked through the forest until the ground became stony and dry. Ahead of him, he saw a man waving his arms in greeting and so he ran to him. As he came closer, however, the boy saw that the man was not his daddy and was actually waving a stick at a wolf who snarled and clawed at the dusty earth.

“I am looking for my daddy,” the boy said. “He lives far away at the end of the world. Have you seen him?”

“Go away, go away,” the man said. “This is a dangerous place and the wolf will not leave me alone.”

The boy looked and saw a spring of water chuckling in the rock behind the man. He took off his bag and pulled out his flask of water and emptied the whole thing into a hole in one of the larger stones on the ground. Then he called to the wolf who came and drank until its belly was round and the man could climb down from his rock.

“Thank you,” said the man. “I have been trapped by that rock for so long and my daughter will have grown old and left home thinking I did not care enough to tell her stories at bedtime. I have not seen your daddy but this is not the end of the world. Keep travelling, but be careful.”

And with that, the man ran off.

The boy left the wolves and the dry land and walked until the air grew chill and a white frost clung to the hills. By this time the boy had grown hungry and thirsty and so sat down to nibble on the crusts he still kept at the bottom of his bag.

As he began to snap the hard black ends of bread, the boy was startled by the sound of flapping. It seemed to him as though his grandmother had arrived to hang sheets in the wind but, looking up, the boy saw instead a vulture circling on the wind.

The bread was the last thing in the world the boy owned and his fingers tightened around it. Spying the bread, the vulture swooped down and pecked at the boy’s fingers.

“Go away, go away,” the boy cried. “This is all I have left and I am so hungry and tired.” He threw stones at the bird but and the vulture settled upon a patch of frozen ground and clawed at the ice. Taking pity on the bird, the boy opened his bruised hands and let the bread fall to the floor. “Take it,” he said, kicking the husk away from him. “Eat it and fly away for I know now this must be the end of the world, though my daddy is not here and there is nowhere left to go.”

The vulture flew to where the dry bread lay and gobbled it up. Hard as it was, the bread stuck in the bird’s throat and caused it to choke. It flailed and made the most awful sound and then fell to the floor.

The boy ran to the vulture’s side but it was too late, the creature was dead. With hunger gnawing in his belly, the boy gazed at the bird. He reached down and placed his cold fingers upon the still-warm breast of the vulture. As he touched it, he felt the thing shudder and split apart. From inside came two hands and then two arms and then a head and shoulders and a body until finally an entire man stepped out and the boy saw his daddy stood in front of him.

“My son,” he said. “You have freed me from my curse.”

Hugging his daddy tight, the boy asked: “Was it the Mayor, daddy? Did he curse you? Is that why you left me?”

The boy felt wetness upon his head and looked up to see his daddy was crying. “No,” said the man. “The Mayor did not curse me. He took what I gave but he did not curse me.”

“Then,” said the boy, “how did you end up in the belly of a vulture?”

“In leaving, I cursed myself. I became a bear and you gave me honey, but that was not enough. So I became a wolf and you gave me water, but that was not enough. Finally, I became a vulture and I might have eaten you had you not given me your last crust. Only when I saw you would give all you had to help others did I finally understand that when I had you I had everything.”

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Illustration courtesy of The British Museum (copyright-free).