A Bedtime Fairytale
The mean boys were back. They clearly did not have enough chores to keep themselves busy.
But this time, Emelia was ready.
“Heyyyyyy!!!!,” they jeered. “Look at the SHE-pherd!!! What’s a GIRL doing tending a flock??”
She pointed her arrow at the tree.
*TWANG* She released the bow and the arrow stuck tight in the branch above the boys.
The shaking branch caused a rock to fall- a rock that had a rope tied to it. The weight of the rock pulled the rope tight.
Before they knew it, a hidden net that Emelia had buried in the leaves closed up around the boys.
The boys tried to punch their way out and just ended up punching each other.
Emelia chuckled and went back to her flock. One of the sheep smiled at her, at least… as close to a smile as a sheep could get.
The old shepherd, like a father to Emelia walked up the hill.
“Were those boys giving you trouble again, Emelia?”
“Don’t worry,” she smiled. “They won’t be anymore.”
The old shepherd knew Emelia could take care of herself, but he still worried.
“Emelia– I want you to have something,” he said. He lifted a large gold key off of his neck that he wore tied to a leather strap.
“Wilkin, I can’t take that– it’s your most prized possession.”
“It’s no use to me. But maybe… just maybe, one day it will serve you well.”
“Tell me the story again, Wilkin.”
The old shepherd began. “When I was a little boy, I lived in a village close to the sea. In the middle of the night, my father woke us up and put us all (Mom, dad, one brother and one sister) on the backs of two horses and we rode away as fast as we could. I looked behind me and all the fields were ablaze. I never looked again and we rode for days until we could stop and catch our breath.”
“Did you ever ask your parents what happened?”, asked Emelia.
“I did, but they would never tell me. And now they are both dead and I suppose I’ll never know.”
“But I want you to have this key. It’s the key to our old house and all that I have left of my village.”
Emelia put it around her neck. “Thank you Wilkin. I am honored.”
While they were talking, Emelia looked up and behind Wilkin’s right shoulder, she saw a wolf slowly creep around the back of the flock, looking for a tender lamb.
Emelia looked at Wilkin and her eyes said, “Don’t move.” She brought up her bow and arrow so very quietly right above his shoulder. She let the arrow fly and the wolf fell with a thud. She waited a few seconds to make sure he wouldn’t get up.
“Nice shot,” said Wilkin.
“I had a pretty good teacher,” smiled Emelia.
No one and I mean NO ONE was going to mess with Emelia’s flock.
An American humorist, writer and author. When boiling down the chicken soup of life, she finds those golden, fried nuggets of truth & writes them long after the kids go to bed.