This story was written in response to a challenge. The challenge was to write a story where Iolaus explains the facts of life.
“Are you sure your father never taught you this?” Iolaus asked as he moved through the woods. The young boy tagged behind.
“He says it’s too disgusting to talk about,” Melaegus answered producing a sour face.
“Yeah, he would,” Iolaus commented. The hunter had always felt sorry for the small child. He knew his father to be about as despicable as they come, but he was trying to raise his son on his own. When Iolaus came into town, he always found time to spend with the young boy.
Melaegus, in turn, had heard stories from his father about the exploits of the compact muscular man. Some the young boy believed, some he could not. Still, he idolized his friend.
“Why do you do it?” Melaegus then asked in curiosity as he caught up to the hunter.
“Because it’s fun,” Iolaus answered.
The boy shrugged, “Okay, if you say so.”
“You see, Mel, it’s all part of the life cycle. And if we didn’t do it, then things would get all out of whack.”
Iolaus looked toward the canopy and ten down at the rich, moist soil underneath them. He found a patch of mossy earth and commanded the boy to sit down.
Mel sat next to Iolaus and looked expectantly into his bright blue eyes. He knew something was about to happen.
“It’s called the circle of life and we all have a part.”
“Even me?” the young boy asked.
“Even you. But someone has to teach you to do it right.”
“Daddy says you can’t do anything right.”
“He should know,” Iolaus answered with distain too quiet for Melaegus to hear.
“So what’s the circle of life?”
Iolaus picked up an acorn. He wanted to try to explain things in a language the young boy would be able to understand. “It begins here,” he answered holding the large seed between his thumb and forefinger. “You know birds like worms, but when they can‘t get them, they steal the seeds from the trees. But they are also greedy and sometimes they drop a few.”
Iolaus demonstrated this by releasing the acorn. It fell to the ground. Melaegus was about to pick it up again when Iolaus gently grabbed his hand. “And then a little boy like you comes along and steps on it. Go on. Step on it.”
Melaegus did as Iolaus bid, stomping on the acorn three or four times.
“In a few years, you see a little tree growing,” Iolaus said as he got up and searched for a sapling. He pointed it out to the young boy.
“Then in a few more years, you have a young tree.” Iolaus found a river willow just up the path he and Melaegus were now traveling. He found a long straight branch jutting toward the path.
“This would be great for a fishing pole,” Iolaus announced in surprised satisfaction. He cut the tender branch from the tree and handed it to Melaegus, who displayed it proudly in his left hand.
“As the tree gets older, it dies,” Iolaus and Melaegus came to a fallen tree just outside of the path.
“Does everything die when it gets older?” Melaegus asked.
“Yes, Mel, everything dies when it gets older.”
“You’re real old. When are you going to die?” he asked.
Iolaus chuckled. The boy was too young for Iolaus to explain his many trips into the underworld. Instead, he pacified the child by stating, “Hopefully, not until I can get you back home to your father.”
This seemed to satisfy Melaegus.
“When a tree dies, it begins to rot,” Iolaus said as he continued with the story. He walked over to the decaying log. Bending at the knees, he began scooping out the rich humus from under the log. He sifted through the pile of dirt, searching for the reason they had come this way.
“What are you looking for?” the young boy asked.
“All sorts of bugs are attracted to this kind of dirt..” Finally, after he had removed three piles of dirt, Iolaus found what he was looking for. “WORMS!” he exclaimed as he pulled out a long, brown, moving earthworm.
“Mel, open your hand,” Iolaus prompted.
The boy held out both of his tiny hands. He closed his eyes in unpleasant anticipation. Iolaus placed three earthworms in his palm.
“They tickle,” Melaegus laughed, “but Iolaus? What do worms have to do with trees.”
Iolaus had to think about it. “Well,” he began, “if we didn’t find the worms for fishing then the birds would, and they wouldn’t be eating the acorns, so they wouldn’t drop the acorn seed, so a new tree wouldn’t grow, and we couldn’t find a good fishing stick, and then we couldn’t find a dead tree so we could find the worms. See, it’s a circle. Now, let’s go fishing.” Iolaus offered before Melaegus could ask any more questions.
Protectively, Iolaus asked, “Do you want to bait the hook or shall I?”
“Can you?” the boy asked, unsure of himself.
“Sure. We’ll do it at the stream.” The two traveled toward Iolaus’ favorite fishing hole. The hunter wrapped a loving arm around the young boy as they went.
THE END
