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The young man and the lady , or the lady by the boat


The young man walked on. He could see the sea shore some distance in front of him, and he quickened his pace in anticipation. It didn’t take too long to get there, and he went directly to a canoe, which also happened to be the only one, tethered to a post by the beach. A lady was in it, holding an oar.

You need a ride across, she asked.

Yes, the man said.

Then jump in and we’ll get going, said the lady.

The young man sat in the boat while the lady unhitched it, walked over to the back, got in and began rowing. In no time at all, they were sailing across the ocean and the lady was humming a tune. His offer of assistance was refused, because, the lady informed him, there was only one paddle and he did not know the way. Fair enough. The man asked where they were going.

We’re headed towards the sea of music, after which I’ll take you to the sea of education, she replied. From there, you’ll reach the shore and go to a forest which is some distance from there.

A sea of music? The young man thought about this, didn’t sound like a bad idea. He lay back and decided to enjoy the ride, possibly the sea of music would be soothing melodies swirling around him while he wafted across to the shore. It wasn’t too long before he drifted to sleep, soothed by the gentle swirling of the waves.

He woke up, startled, in response to a sudden movement of the boat. It rocked crazily from side to side, and almost seemed to have a mind of its own. The lady was paddling frantically now, away from a growing cloud which appeared to gain ground with each paddle stroke. The sky on the left was dark grey, filled with foreboding storm clouds, the sky to the right was clear. The boat rocked madly in between, unsure which direction it was headed. The lady was paddling to the right, but after a while, she gasped and stared at her oar. He heard her mutter something that sounded like “Oh dear”.

He sat up and yelled across the boat at her.

What did you say?

My paddle broke, was her reply.

Your paddle broke, meaning. . . ?

It means we’re drifting into the storm, I’m sorry! She shouted back across the gathering squall. The storm was right above them now, the boat was rising and falling on the waves, sometimes on a flat stretch of water, then the next minute, lifted right off the sea and thrown in another direction, landing sometimes on one side, sometimes on another. He felt sick and dazed from the constant motion and did not know what to do. He could barely see what the lady was doing now, he caught a few glimpses of her paddling frantically with half an oar, and they were both drenched with water. At some point, she lost the half oar, and simply lay down on the bottom of the boat, fatigued. He decided to do the same.

The storm raged all around them, and it seemed like hours before they finally felt some calm.


They were drifting across an open sea now. He sat up and looked around him, he could see nothing but miles of water, and an uneasy calm. He looked around for the lady. She had also sat up and was wringing the water out of her clothes. He noticed the bottom of the boat had taken in some water, so he began scooping up some with his hands, to throw over the side of the boat. After a while, the lady joined him, and they worked together. Neither felt in the mood to talk.


When most of the water was gone, he sat back, exhausted.

The Beginning of a Journey

The old wise man stopped, looking at the younger man thoughtfully and shaking his head. The young man was rather perplexed but did not know what to make of the old wise man’s action. Moreover, the story had left him confused. He had many questions to ask, but wasn’t sure the old man would give him the answers. So, he decided to let things be for the time being.

They both sat in silence for a while, the old wise man on his branch on his tree, and the young man carefully in front of him, by the tree trunk. After a while, the old man spoke.

Young man, you had better get going, you have a long journey ahead of you, and the sooner you get on the road, the better.

The young man opened his mouth to argue, thought better of it, and merely asked the old wise man where he was going and how best to start the journey.

Good, said the old man. I see you’re learning fast, you refused to argue over what cannot be changed. Rather, you save your strength for what you may encounter along the way. That is a good strategy.

The alert young man waited to hear more.

Walk some distance from here, said the old man, in a straight, not curved line, following that distant star. You will arrive at a coast, a sea shore, a bay. There will be someone there to guide you and take you across the shore to what lies ahead. You will arrive at a town, a city and more forests, journeying through each of these and encountering different things and elements along the way. This is the general picture, you will experience the specifics as you go on. I will be moving on now, don’t forget to encounter the other, jivey old man who is somewhere in these forests or beyond. You will know him by his ability to cut a caper.

While the old man was talking, something swam across our hero’s line of vision. He thought he was imagining things, and looked closer. Yes, it was a fish, which seemed to be swimming where the old man’s legs were. A closer inspection revealed a school of about ten small fishes, swimming determinedly round and round in a circle. While he stared in amazement, one of them winked at him.

The young man leaped back, and as he did so, the old man laughed in amusement.

Yes my son, he said. My legs are made of water. Look closely and you will see how that is possible.

The young man looked, and saw each of the old man’s legs, was a whirlpool of clear, swirling water. The fishes were swimming round and round with the flow, and they seemed to be enjoying it too. The old man’s legs were made of pillars of water, which tapered down to form his two feet. The water swirled continuously round, from top to bottom, and from the feet to the thighs and back again. (The old man was wearing shorts). It was an amazing sight.

Fear grew within the forest. Everyday it became more and more visible until even the leaves on the trees quivered in it. People walked about dangerously afraid, not sure who was friend or foe. The maiden did the best she could with her plants, her companion helped out but he was not as encouraging as before. The maiden noticed this and it troubled her. One day she decided to talk to him.

Lover, she asked, what is this burden you have, and why does it trouble you so? True, there is fear in the land, but I wish it would not touch our forest.

Her companion looked at her sadly, he knew she didn’t understand. The call within him was too ancient to remain unheeded, not to listen would mean a separation from all he held dear. His choices were as limited as they were certain. He reached out and hugged his maiden. They stood together for a while, drawing strength from each other, then something, a sound, a glimpse of movement in the undergrowth, a premonition of what was happening to others he held dear, shook him and broke the embrace.

The maiden wiped her tears and, comforted somewhat, they went over to the plants to water them.

The next day, her companion broke the news to her, the forest was changing. New creatures were moving in, bringing in unknown, ancient enmities and mores which did not allow for a love such as theirs, or a partnership like they had, of tending plants. He was going to find a better forest, together with some of their forest people who had already left. Would the maiden like to follow him after they had established themselves in the new place. He would take some of the plants and care for them until she came.

The maiden thought about her answer, and gave him her blessing. She watched him leave , then turned around and walked slowly back, as they both faded into the mist, in their different directions. She knew it wouldn’t be long until they were together again.

thanks.

still working on the draft.

might still remove this sentence:

He loved her fiercely, and indeed she loved him back.

not sure if its necessary for the context of the tale.

the old wise man's story:


The Lovelorn Maiden

In another forest, far from here, there once lived a maiden. She was your average maiden, with the features common to every maiden, so no, I would not say she stood out exceptionally for any reason.

This young maiden had a plant which she cultivated with care, it was her pride and joy, and she watered the seed with tears, sowed it with joy, and watched it grow.

A young strapping man was her companion. He loved her fiercely, and indeed she loved him back. Together they grew the plant, and without a doubt, the plant responded to their care. Its leaves grew broad, its stem grew wide, and luscious pearls of dew drops appeared fresh each morning on the plant without fail.

However, the maiden’s companion was getting restless. His blood stirred uneasily, pulling up passions from deep within him, over which he felt he had no control. He did not want to dance to the beat of ancient rhythms, but he found his feet doing a jig anyway.

There was a tension in the air which felt palpable. The man felt it, the maiden felt it, everyone in the forest felt it. The birds seemed to sing less, the roosters crowed with a hint of urgency, the livestock hurried home earlier and earlier each day. Fear had come to the forest. Even the snakes seemed to slither through the undergrowth as if fleeing from evil, terrified.

An unseen menace hovered, unbidden, unwelcome and unbroken.

The maiden kept watering her plants, tending them with care, still showering them with love.

white mosquito: Ill say go wit ur gut instinct. If it says give the old man a basket or a drum, why not? The whole point of writing lit is to CREATE something from NOTHING. Esp in this level of imagery/fiction. Anything can go. The old man may turn out to have a 'gurgling stream of water' for legs and it'll be alright. Just make sure ur tenses/syntax etc etc are right.

thanks for the feedback.

i'd originally intended the old wise man to have wheels for legs, but i think water is also good.

i'll work it into the story at some point, when i revise.

Stretch your imagination and make it exciting enough for us to wish to follow!

hmm, as per excitement, i wanted the pace to be a bit slow, since its a meditative piece. If it has too much excitement, i might wonder if i'm doing it right.

However i must point out that uv forgotten ur parentheses(" while quoting characters.

i'm still freestyling for now. I might add parentheses later, i havent decided yet. I tested it with parentheses before posting, it has a different feel when you add that.


the lack of parentheses makes things a bit trickier, i agree, i'm working on how the final draft should look.

Or Are u trying to do a pure narrative?

maybe, something like that. Not really sure.

I have to look up some of these techniques.

Also, i like the way u let us into ur thoughts.

dont quite get this part.

Most writers hav difficulty with that.

hmm

Still, u cud make the story a bit clearer, settling some areas of suspense while letting other areas play out.

ok, will work on it when revising.

As in, are those really trees or creatures? Whats the diff btw the first tree and the old man's tree, if any? That sort of thing.

1. the trees and creatures are separate.

2. the forest is made up of glass trees. The old man's tree is not.

I also havent decided where to place the old man's tree yet- at the edge of the forest or in the middle.

And by all means start another story if you want to, you'll find out that it will all fit together at some point. Our brain is funny like that.
Long story short- pls dont stop now, Im hooked!!

once again, thanks so much for the feedback, its really appreciated.


I'm trying to think of a format for the old man's story- what i had in mind was something of a rather sensitive nature, might be offensive to some [nothing to do with nl] on a personal level, not sure. So i have to figure out how to do this and what exactly to write.