This Story Earned Me Twenty Five Dollars
Dec 12, 2013 13:30:08 GMT -8
Post by Alastor on Dec 12, 2013 13:30:08 GMT -8
And it's not very good, either. I churned it out for extra credit work and ended up submitting to a school contest. Keep in mind, I wrote this with a 101 degree fever over the span of (effectively) two agonizing days.
---
'Jack'
A Retelling of a lad and his Beanstalk
Long, long ago in the reign of Alfred the Great, was a woman who was poorer than most other peasants. She lived far from any sort of city or even village, only with her son and a sole horse as company. The boy, Jack, was spoiled by the woman after his father perished oh-so-many years ago. Jack, a lad of thirteen, hadn't so much as raised a pitchfork in his life, as his mother lavished him with gift upon gift.
Even now, as the two lived in poverty, the woman spoiled her boy at every turn she could. Perhaps- just perhaps- this is what lead to the events about to unfold.
The woman lived as a trader, constantly bargaining and bargaining her hand-made goods to people in London during her quarterly visits. Of course, as fate would have, the woman fell sick on the eve of one of these voyages.
In the soft warmth provided by dim candles, boy sat next to his mother as she laid in her bed, unable to so much as move.
“Worry not, mother,” He said softly to the woman, holding her hand in his own. “I will stay here to take care of you.”
“Nay,” She replied in a hoarse whisper. “Winter is coming soon, and we must stock up on food.”
The boy's sandy blond curls rattled about as he shook his head harshly. “We can do it when you're well!”
The woman laughed lightly, coughing as she did. “As kind as you are, Jack, that will only do us more harm than it would good. You must go in my place, Jack.”
Jack looked aghast, his eyes growing wide as his mouth drop. “But, mo-”
“No 'buts', Jack.” The woman cut the child off then and there, a rare authoritative tone in her voice. Her son was taken aback by this, having heard his mother use this tone only a handful of times before. “You must head to London tomorrow with my work, and you must return with food for the winter.”
The blond haired boy looked surprised at this. “But I don't even know how to trade!”
“Then you will learn.” She said simply, pulling her hand from the teen's grasp. “Now, head to bed. You'll be off first thing in the morning. And before you worry about me, I'll be quite alright.”
“Alright,” The boy merely sighed in response, pushing himself up from his seat. He carefully made his way around the room, blowing out the candles and climbing into his own bed. “Good night, mother.”
Jack's sleep was restless that night, fearing of his trip. What would happen to him? Would his travels be interrupted by thieves? Would his mother be alright? Would he make enough for them to last the brutal winter storms?
He was awoken from his sleep by the sun resting high in the sky. The sun beat down from its spot in the sky as Jack pulled himself out of bed, noting that his mother was still fast asleep. Silently as he could muster, Jack went about his small home and gathered whatever goods he could and carried them outside to the carriage.
“Hm,” He spoke to himself, overlooking a small stack of wares. The stack wasn't particularly large, even for their work. It was only a handful of blankets, a few coats, and a shirt or two. “Must've had trouble making the rest...”
Little did the lad know, of course, that this wasn't the full stack- and unfortunately, he wouldn't know this by the time he had left, either. Jack hassled his mother's horse into the grasp of the carriage's trap for what had felt like hours to the boy- but by the time he had checked the sun's spot in the sky, little more than an hour had passed.
He sighed for a moment, his gaze falling back on the carriage and the horse. Was he really to ride this contraption for the hours, through the rough floor of the forest? He grimaced at the thought, even if he knew he had to make this ride.
A moment passed as he dashed back inside his home for a map to London, before running back out and hopping into the carriage's driving space. He imitated what he remembered his mother would always do to get the horse to pull, tightly whipping the reigns.
Jack, however, didn't know his strength. The horse gave a startled neigh from the sudden pain, before darting off at incredibly high speed. The trees were a blur to Jack, and the sound of twigs resting on the forest's ground snapping was drowned out by his screaming, alongside his the gallop of the horse's feet.
The trip went by faster than expected, as the horse's own memory of the path dragged them just outside of London, at last! The horse stopped its pull then, exhausted. The blonde boy sitting in the carriage gave an exasperated sigh as the horse stopped, gasping for air as his heart fluttered rapidly.
A moment, perhaps two, passed before Jack caught his breath, ready to set up a booth to sell his mother's wares. However, he noticed something then- a three small beans had been kicked up by his trip from the ground. The beans were, strangely, quite beautiful- looking like they were delicately crafted by a craftsman, and glistened in the sun with vivid colors.
Noting the strange glint of the beans, Jack pulled them into his hands- he was naive, but he wasn't clueless. These couldn't have been actual beans, could they? He thought, feeling the textures of them in the palm of his hands.
The texture confirmed it- these weren't beans, or at least any normal kind of beans. They were far too sharp, and had a glass like feel to them. If he were any more reckless, the boy would've cut himself on them.
The question was, however, where did they come from? Jack mused the concept- perhaps, just perhaps, they were a gift from the heavens? It wasn't something he was going to think too hard about, anyway. He put the gems in the pocket of his tunic, hiding them from view as he gathered the wares from the chariot, tying it and his mother's horse to the trunk of a tall tree.
He made his way into the city, keeping an eye out for a merchant's area. He looked amazed as he looked around- he had never seen sights like this! There were people about in clothing he'd never seen before. People laughing and conversing with an upbeat livelihood as they went about their day, man and maiden alike. Not to mention, the buildings were far larger than that tiny little hut he had lived in his entire life!
It was then, in his awe, that he found the merchant district, people bustling about in a maddened frenzy. And more importantly, he found an empty table. Dashing ahead, the curly haired blond placed his goods on the table to claim it. He spread out the cloth work of his mother, standing behind the table with an eager smile.
And there, he stood. And stood. And stood. His smile began to droop as people passed by without so much a glance at the things he had to sell- and by this point, the sun was beginning to set. Thoughts were shooting through the boy's head. Was his mother's handwork shoddy? Were her clothes made too itchy? Were her blankets too thin? Did he make himself not noticeable enough?
He sighed, sliding a hand into his tunic's pocket and feeling a sharp prick. He yanked his hand out then, remembering the beans he had found. An idea came to the boy then, sliding out the three beans then and setting them gently on the table.
“Exotic beans we have here today!” He shouted triumphantly, his voice booming with confidence, “The beans of a fairy godmother!”
Someone took note of the boy's booth then. The man was quite tall- gigantic even- and dressed in incredibly fancy clothes one could only find in nobility. He looked at the boy then, glancing down at the table.
“Beans of a fairy godmother, you say?”
Jack gulped, looking up at the giant of a nobleman. “Yes'sir. Found them on my way here.”
The giant carefully lifted the three beans, watching the jewels glisten in the light of the sunset. “You're a new one then, my boy?”
Jack merely nodded in reply.
“You know, these aren't beans, correct?”
Jack shook his head.
“Fine jewels, these are. I believe my wife would love them.” The giant set the three beans down then, before digging into the pocket of his coat. He set a bag of coins, one about the size of a goose's egg, down on the table.“My boy, is this enough?”
Jack's eyes and face lit up then, seeing the small fortune. “Sir, I think so!” He said with a new found energy, scooping the three jewels up and into his hands, passing them to the nobleman. The nobleman gave a laugh then, shaking hands with the teenager before departing down the street.
Jack quickly slide the bag of coins into his pocket, scooping up the remainders of his wares into his arms as he jolted out of the area, and even sooner out of London. He quickly untied his then-resting horse from the tree branch, easing her back into the pony-trap of the carriage.
The boy's heart was racing from sheer excitement as he sat in the chariot's seat, his horse pulling it along through the forest. By the time he had returned to the small home he had, the sun had fallen, and the moon was high in the sky.
“Mother!” He shouted as the horse stopped, jumping out of the carriage and into the house, ripping the door open. The boy's sudden appearance had startled his mother awake, looking shocked at her son. “Mother, look!”
“Jack!” She gasped. “You know not t--”
“Mother, look!” He repeated, sliding out the bag of money from his tunic and holding it up high. “I've made more than we ever had before!”
The woman looked astonished then, staring at the large sack. She had no words- whatever Jack did was impressive, even in her years of experience. “Jack, how did you...”
Jack sat down on the stool next to his mother's bed then, excited to tell her the tale of the gems. “...That dumb horse made us rich!” He finished.
“Jack, I'm so proud!” She shouted, still surprised as a smile grew on her face. She hugged her son then, nearly crying.
An hour passed before the two went to bed, discussing plans for tomorrow. As soon as the sun rose in the next morning, the two had gathered all they could carry into the carry into carriage. The family made quick haste to London, buying a relatively decent sized home and continuing on work as merchants- and they were quite successful at it. Never again did the duo fear the cold of winter.
The tale of Jack became an urban legend, a poor family quickly became a rich member of London society by the generosity of one man. However, one question was lost to time.
Where, exactly, did those gems come from?
Perhaps that is a tale for another time...
---
'Jack'
A Retelling of a lad and his Beanstalk
Long, long ago in the reign of Alfred the Great, was a woman who was poorer than most other peasants. She lived far from any sort of city or even village, only with her son and a sole horse as company. The boy, Jack, was spoiled by the woman after his father perished oh-so-many years ago. Jack, a lad of thirteen, hadn't so much as raised a pitchfork in his life, as his mother lavished him with gift upon gift.
Even now, as the two lived in poverty, the woman spoiled her boy at every turn she could. Perhaps- just perhaps- this is what lead to the events about to unfold.
The woman lived as a trader, constantly bargaining and bargaining her hand-made goods to people in London during her quarterly visits. Of course, as fate would have, the woman fell sick on the eve of one of these voyages.
In the soft warmth provided by dim candles, boy sat next to his mother as she laid in her bed, unable to so much as move.
“Worry not, mother,” He said softly to the woman, holding her hand in his own. “I will stay here to take care of you.”
“Nay,” She replied in a hoarse whisper. “Winter is coming soon, and we must stock up on food.”
The boy's sandy blond curls rattled about as he shook his head harshly. “We can do it when you're well!”
The woman laughed lightly, coughing as she did. “As kind as you are, Jack, that will only do us more harm than it would good. You must go in my place, Jack.”
Jack looked aghast, his eyes growing wide as his mouth drop. “But, mo-”
“No 'buts', Jack.” The woman cut the child off then and there, a rare authoritative tone in her voice. Her son was taken aback by this, having heard his mother use this tone only a handful of times before. “You must head to London tomorrow with my work, and you must return with food for the winter.”
The blond haired boy looked surprised at this. “But I don't even know how to trade!”
“Then you will learn.” She said simply, pulling her hand from the teen's grasp. “Now, head to bed. You'll be off first thing in the morning. And before you worry about me, I'll be quite alright.”
“Alright,” The boy merely sighed in response, pushing himself up from his seat. He carefully made his way around the room, blowing out the candles and climbing into his own bed. “Good night, mother.”
Jack's sleep was restless that night, fearing of his trip. What would happen to him? Would his travels be interrupted by thieves? Would his mother be alright? Would he make enough for them to last the brutal winter storms?
He was awoken from his sleep by the sun resting high in the sky. The sun beat down from its spot in the sky as Jack pulled himself out of bed, noting that his mother was still fast asleep. Silently as he could muster, Jack went about his small home and gathered whatever goods he could and carried them outside to the carriage.
“Hm,” He spoke to himself, overlooking a small stack of wares. The stack wasn't particularly large, even for their work. It was only a handful of blankets, a few coats, and a shirt or two. “Must've had trouble making the rest...”
Little did the lad know, of course, that this wasn't the full stack- and unfortunately, he wouldn't know this by the time he had left, either. Jack hassled his mother's horse into the grasp of the carriage's trap for what had felt like hours to the boy- but by the time he had checked the sun's spot in the sky, little more than an hour had passed.
He sighed for a moment, his gaze falling back on the carriage and the horse. Was he really to ride this contraption for the hours, through the rough floor of the forest? He grimaced at the thought, even if he knew he had to make this ride.
A moment passed as he dashed back inside his home for a map to London, before running back out and hopping into the carriage's driving space. He imitated what he remembered his mother would always do to get the horse to pull, tightly whipping the reigns.
Jack, however, didn't know his strength. The horse gave a startled neigh from the sudden pain, before darting off at incredibly high speed. The trees were a blur to Jack, and the sound of twigs resting on the forest's ground snapping was drowned out by his screaming, alongside his the gallop of the horse's feet.
The trip went by faster than expected, as the horse's own memory of the path dragged them just outside of London, at last! The horse stopped its pull then, exhausted. The blonde boy sitting in the carriage gave an exasperated sigh as the horse stopped, gasping for air as his heart fluttered rapidly.
A moment, perhaps two, passed before Jack caught his breath, ready to set up a booth to sell his mother's wares. However, he noticed something then- a three small beans had been kicked up by his trip from the ground. The beans were, strangely, quite beautiful- looking like they were delicately crafted by a craftsman, and glistened in the sun with vivid colors.
Noting the strange glint of the beans, Jack pulled them into his hands- he was naive, but he wasn't clueless. These couldn't have been actual beans, could they? He thought, feeling the textures of them in the palm of his hands.
The texture confirmed it- these weren't beans, or at least any normal kind of beans. They were far too sharp, and had a glass like feel to them. If he were any more reckless, the boy would've cut himself on them.
The question was, however, where did they come from? Jack mused the concept- perhaps, just perhaps, they were a gift from the heavens? It wasn't something he was going to think too hard about, anyway. He put the gems in the pocket of his tunic, hiding them from view as he gathered the wares from the chariot, tying it and his mother's horse to the trunk of a tall tree.
He made his way into the city, keeping an eye out for a merchant's area. He looked amazed as he looked around- he had never seen sights like this! There were people about in clothing he'd never seen before. People laughing and conversing with an upbeat livelihood as they went about their day, man and maiden alike. Not to mention, the buildings were far larger than that tiny little hut he had lived in his entire life!
It was then, in his awe, that he found the merchant district, people bustling about in a maddened frenzy. And more importantly, he found an empty table. Dashing ahead, the curly haired blond placed his goods on the table to claim it. He spread out the cloth work of his mother, standing behind the table with an eager smile.
And there, he stood. And stood. And stood. His smile began to droop as people passed by without so much a glance at the things he had to sell- and by this point, the sun was beginning to set. Thoughts were shooting through the boy's head. Was his mother's handwork shoddy? Were her clothes made too itchy? Were her blankets too thin? Did he make himself not noticeable enough?
He sighed, sliding a hand into his tunic's pocket and feeling a sharp prick. He yanked his hand out then, remembering the beans he had found. An idea came to the boy then, sliding out the three beans then and setting them gently on the table.
“Exotic beans we have here today!” He shouted triumphantly, his voice booming with confidence, “The beans of a fairy godmother!”
Someone took note of the boy's booth then. The man was quite tall- gigantic even- and dressed in incredibly fancy clothes one could only find in nobility. He looked at the boy then, glancing down at the table.
“Beans of a fairy godmother, you say?”
Jack gulped, looking up at the giant of a nobleman. “Yes'sir. Found them on my way here.”
The giant carefully lifted the three beans, watching the jewels glisten in the light of the sunset. “You're a new one then, my boy?”
Jack merely nodded in reply.
“You know, these aren't beans, correct?”
Jack shook his head.
“Fine jewels, these are. I believe my wife would love them.” The giant set the three beans down then, before digging into the pocket of his coat. He set a bag of coins, one about the size of a goose's egg, down on the table.“My boy, is this enough?”
Jack's eyes and face lit up then, seeing the small fortune. “Sir, I think so!” He said with a new found energy, scooping the three jewels up and into his hands, passing them to the nobleman. The nobleman gave a laugh then, shaking hands with the teenager before departing down the street.
Jack quickly slide the bag of coins into his pocket, scooping up the remainders of his wares into his arms as he jolted out of the area, and even sooner out of London. He quickly untied his then-resting horse from the tree branch, easing her back into the pony-trap of the carriage.
The boy's heart was racing from sheer excitement as he sat in the chariot's seat, his horse pulling it along through the forest. By the time he had returned to the small home he had, the sun had fallen, and the moon was high in the sky.
“Mother!” He shouted as the horse stopped, jumping out of the carriage and into the house, ripping the door open. The boy's sudden appearance had startled his mother awake, looking shocked at her son. “Mother, look!”
“Jack!” She gasped. “You know not t--”
“Mother, look!” He repeated, sliding out the bag of money from his tunic and holding it up high. “I've made more than we ever had before!”
The woman looked astonished then, staring at the large sack. She had no words- whatever Jack did was impressive, even in her years of experience. “Jack, how did you...”
Jack sat down on the stool next to his mother's bed then, excited to tell her the tale of the gems. “...That dumb horse made us rich!” He finished.
“Jack, I'm so proud!” She shouted, still surprised as a smile grew on her face. She hugged her son then, nearly crying.
An hour passed before the two went to bed, discussing plans for tomorrow. As soon as the sun rose in the next morning, the two had gathered all they could carry into the carry into carriage. The family made quick haste to London, buying a relatively decent sized home and continuing on work as merchants- and they were quite successful at it. Never again did the duo fear the cold of winter.
The tale of Jack became an urban legend, a poor family quickly became a rich member of London society by the generosity of one man. However, one question was lost to time.
Where, exactly, did those gems come from?
Perhaps that is a tale for another time...
