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THE LAST NUGGET by byron lebeau
The old man had learned much...he knew about the whispering winds ~ the calls of the night owl ~ the howl of the wolf, but most of all, how to communicate ~ be in tune with his favorite 'beast': BETSY-the faithful horse, NOW, the love of his life....
He was familiar with energy fields, how to harness the positive as well as deflect the negative. There had been much to deflect and his long sojourn nearly over. Just one more bend, he said, over & over again...just one more bend...then I will REST!
But now there was no time to rest. He only had but two warm Indian blankets to keep away the cold of the night, despite the glow from the firelight. His only food was that from MOTHER EARTH who was literally his newly found shelter. He listened to the small animals and learned to respond to their needs, by being sensitive to them and treating them like his brothers & sisters...together forging their entwined path through LIFE.
Yet to really rest he needed a real house. THE RIVER ~he thought. I sifted nuggets before. It was hard work, but it gave me enough to buy ol' BETSY, here. As he said that, the old black horse gave the old man a nod of approval...so his final plan was set.
The old man thought about how just one good nugget from the sifted river would fetch enough to buy materials to build his house with some modest furnishings...the hard ground & cold nights becoming a burden to his already weakened body.
As he thought on these things and sifted for his precious nugget in the river, the small animals came by and listened to his dreams...The beaver thought him foolish for wasting his time in such pursuits, but the old man reminded the beaver that he had not the skill of Brother Beaver. The birds would bring him some pieces from their nests, but the old man laughed with them about how nice the gesture was, but somehow would not be nearly enough to build his "nest".
Three weeks past...not one nugget! Not even a grain of gold, NOTHING!!! He had done everything so meticulously, working his way slowly but surely down the winding river. Only the splash of an occasional trout; they were having fun while he was breaking his back looking for nuggets....Oh to be a fish, he thought. Just then something STIRRED!
Ol' BETSY also stirred. Something big was upstream. It was glaring at the old man not fifty yards away.
When it stood up, BETSY noticed the six claws on each paw rising high above a tree on the river bank...but the old man just anchored his feet in the swift river, his eyes firmly planted on the big and dangerous bear.
The old man gently spread his palms down & out. He directed Brother Bear UPSTREAM: THAT'S WHERE THE TROUT ARE...WHY I JUST SAW SOME THIS VERY MORNING. The bear splashed his deadly paws in the swift river ~ turned ~ and galloped upstream! BETSY breathed a 'sigh' of relief. The old man returned to his gold~searching.
The night was particularly bitter & cold. The old man gave BETSY one of his only two blankets...the fire was nearly an ember...the winds were unrelenting. He closed his eyes and kept repeating the words: TOMORROW WILL BE A NEW DAY...over & over until sleep froze his words shut.
He needed a nugget ~ but the nugget never came! He started again sifting & sifting. He was exhausted. Suddenly, BETSY stirred again. The old man grew very quiet...even the river grew less swift. There was someone watching him, he thought.
Just then, an Indian galloped out of the nearby bush with hatchet raised high. The old man saw the fierce anger in the man's eyes....It was still the OLD WEST. Many thoughts raced through the old man's mind. BETSY feared for the old man.
He thought of his last house~his last wife~his last three children, ALL KILLED IN AN INDIAN RAID FIVE YEARS AGO. IT SEEMED LIKE AN ETERNITY! All the angry Indians had left upon his return was an old & useless horse that the old man had named~ BETSY! Everything else was burned or killed or taken.
As the Indian charged & hollered & whooped, the old man stood again his ground, feet anchored in the now quiet river. He again lowered his palms but THIS TIME spread them in a type of fence-like-bubble...thinking how the Indian had a right to be angry over the many broken treaties of THE WHITE MAN....He himself became ashamed of the WHITE RACE that seemed to have only one thing in mind: TO HAVE ALL THE LAND FOR THEMSELVES!!! He had decided to take BETSY to a more deserted place where things were only killed out of necessity, not for power or greed or hatred.
The hatchet descended toward the old man's head! THEN SOMETHING HAPPENED! The sharp piece of steel was deflected back into the river. The Indian literally bounced off something that could not be seen. He fell back ~ temporarily stunned. The old man looked kindly upon his would-be killer, but the Indian's anger only gave way to confusion before it melted into a FEAR OF THE OLD MAN, so he could do nothing more but flee back into the forest....
The next day, the old man was again sifting the now newly aroused river, which beat to a pace the old man had never seen before. He suddenly saw something "glitter"...but as he picked it up, he knew it was only "fool's
`gold" ~ not his nugget of liberation. And so he toiled on.
Upstream a TALL MAN was wading down river. BETSY never gave a signal that someone was nigh. He had a gentle face, wearing only a gray robe. As he approached, The TALL MAN suddenly turned to the river bank and headed toward BETSY. The man's stride was soft & effortless as his sandals seemed to glide across the sand. The TALL MAN was telling BETSY something very important.
He then turned and asked the old man what he was sifting for. "Nuggets" said the old man, "especially a large nugget so I can buy materials to furnish my new house."
The TALL MAN laughed and said, "But you already found the large precious nugget yesterday, old man. You are getting very forgetful in your old age. COME, FOLLOW ME!"
The next day BETSY wandered into a nearby Indian camp. An Indian recognized the old horse. There was a strange note attached to the saddle, written in the Sioux language. It simply said:
"The owner of this beautiful horse must go on a sudden journey. Will the first noble Sioux Indian who reads this, take care of this special horse, BETSY. She is a good horse and knows how to communicate with real human beings. She will be no trouble to anyone."
The Sioux Indian who read the note was very touched, looked at the horse, and the horse started to communicate many many things about REAL LIFE to this Indian. Somehow the Indian UNDERSTOOD. They became very good friends.
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TALLtalesTOOshort by byron lebeau
A SPADE IS NOT A SPADE~it just looks like one...FERTILIZER BOMBS ARE GREAT FOR BOMBING huge buildings...PHIL KLASS THREW NEW LIGHT on strange things that 'fly' in the sky...THE TEETH IN THE MOUTH OF THE 'FACE' ON MARS is as false as your future false teeth...HITLER WAS REALLY A NICE GUY just misunderstood by his mother...THE GOVERNMENTs MAKE EVERY EFFORT FOR FULL DISCLOSURE when feasible...BIGFOOT CANNOT REALLY EXIST because science has determined that we already have the gorilla...AND OF COURSE the earth is really really not flat....AND MORE TOOshortTALES:
THE CHURCH HAS TRIED TO BE 'NICE' TO INFIDELS but like any good parent, occasionally loses its temper...LOVE HAS BEEN CATEGORIZED AS AN ILLUSIVE PHENOMENON becasue no scientist has ever convinced his collegues that he loved his mother...SYNCHRONICITY IS NOT REPEATABLE; therefore ~ it does not exist...GHOSTS ARE EITHER BAD PIECES OF MEAT NOT WELL DIGESTED OR FALSE READINGS FROM THE LIGHT SPECTRUM which are both taken in at odd times or angles, usually by even odder people...UFOs ARE NOT REPEATABLE; therefore ~ they do not exist...TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE-we just cannot go back into it...MEN JUST DON'T COME BACK TO LIFE especially after they have been thoroughly "dispatched" with....
AND THE LAST shortTALLtale:
THE FUTURE IS FOR THE PROUD ~ THE FEW ~ THE BRAVE!!!
GOODluck!?!
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