The Sad Man and The Little Boy (A Retelling of "The Owl and the Grasshopper")

One day sat a man. He was very sad indeed, and preferred to be alone. He would often go to the park to read his book and think about life, no bother in the world. But one day. The man sat down on a bench and opened his book to his favorite part. Placing the bookmark down on the metal railings of the bench, he shook. A horrible noise emanated from the bushes. Squawking and squirming, yelling and murmuring. The sad man could not believe his ears. After all this time he has come to the park and been left alone, quite as could be, he finds himself disturbed by this monster in the bush.

              A yipping and hollering, a ruthless murmuring came a child. Just a small boy about the size of a pea (of course a little bit bigger than this, but still very small indeed). The boy came out of the bush now, the yipping and yelling halted, looking to the sad man.  The man grimaced at the sight of him. Oh how he wanted to be left alone! The boy came over to him, just very softly, his feet barely seeming to touch the ground. The man asked him, “Was it you that was making those horrible noises?” The boy, uncomfortable said, “Yes, sir.” The boy, on the verge of tears, now paddled his feet in place wanting to run away from the obviously agitated man. The boy soon began to cry, but the old man wished to relieve the boy.

              “Come here, boy” said the old man. The boy looked to and fro, wanting someone to witness what the man had said, in disbelief. But the boy obeyed. In surprise, the man hoisted the boy upon his lap. The boy wondered, is he secretly Santa Claus? Unfortunately for the boy, he wasn’t. But nonetheless, the man held him there looking into his eyes. “Read for me, boy, the book I enjoy the most.” He handed the little pea-sized boy his book.

              The man asked for the boy to read specific pages. It was confusing and he was unsure why he was having him read this. Seeing this confusion, the man told him that he wanted to hear his voice, in reading his favorite story. It was titled “The Owl and The Grasshopper.” The man explained the significance of the story being of letting your guard down due to false flattery. “What does that mean?” asked the boy. “Never mind”, said the man, “Just read.” So he did. Every now and again the boy would glance up at the sad man’s face to see his enjoyment. “You are doing a great job, son. Maybe you could read a little more.” The boy continued, wishing to be done with reading this fable to the man, the man’s creepy smile growing in width.

              Time passed by ever so slowly, but as it did the man encouraged the boy to read more and more from fable to fable, chanting him on. “You have such a beautiful reading voice”, said the man. The boy looked up every time with a great big smile, now that he was getting a reward for granting the man’s wishes. The sad man asked the boy to accompany him on a walk around the park, but to read while they walk. The boy was unsure if he would be able to perform this task, but the man assured him his guidance. Pacing through the bushes, gliding past the gardens, along the banks of the river came both the man and boy. The boy still reading, sputtered through a puddle, startled. The man regained his grasp on the boy as he read and glanced back and forth along the rivers path, but seeing not one soul.

              The boy was reading vigorously, aware of the muck streaming through to his toes. The compliments from the man, still yet encouraged him to continue his reading from his “exceptional” voice. Good job! Excellent! Superb! The sad man prattled on, aware of his encouragement on the boy. Then the man shoved the boy off the embankment into the river. Sputtering with surprise greater than the fear itself implanted in him, the boy shouted for help. But the man stood. A sneering smile carved his face like an ugly pale pumpkin on Halloween. His eyes in the hysteria of maniacal laughter, his hands shaking with excitement. The boy poured over in the water, tumbled, swallowing his last gasps of breath. The book floated down alongside him, in his path to the end. The man watched, ever happy to know that he would not be bothered once again. He pondered his strategy; it was really quite genius. Putting trust into the boy, complimenting him in his shrill, childlike voice reading back to him the fables of which were to unfold on himself. The boy was so wallowed up in flattery, butter being spread on a piece of toast, that he didn’t realize the danger he was in. With this in mind, the man, yet again sat down with a new book.

 

“Flattery is not a proof of true admiration. Do not let flattery throw you off your guard against an enemy.”

-“The Owl and the Grasshopper”

Author's Note

This is a retelling of the fable "The Owl and the Grasshopper", but in form of more horrifying proportions. I found the original quite interesting and to uphold important lessons. We all have had some forms of flattery, most being quite genuine and true, but some being not what we have thought them to be.

Enjoy

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A surprise ending. I liked this tale. Poor child fell to the flattery and the old man found his quiet again. Thank you for sharing the excellent tale.
Coyote

[Spencer Barker]

Of course! I am glad you enjoyed it, Coyote. :)

[Coyote Poetry]

I did. A outstanding tale.