The Monkey and the Shark

There was once a shark, that was born among the mangrove trees. She had many brothers and sisters and, while she knew she would have to return to the sea when she was old enough, she was enjoying her youth in the root pools.

One day, as she nibbled on some crustaceans in the shallows, a monkey approached her.

“You do not want to be here, little one,” he stated sagely.

“Why not?” the little shark asked.

“The tide is about to retreat.”

“How do you know that?”

“We monkeys are renowned for our cleverness; we know because we study.”

The little shark thought for a moment. The monkey was surely very wise.

“Thank you, sir monkey. I will swim back to my siblings now, they are under the largest mangrove tree in this swamp!” the shark said, wiggling happily at the thought of her family.

“Oh no, you cannot go back there,” the monkey said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why not? The water is always deep there, no matter what the tide is doing.”

“Ah, yes, but alas, the way back is dry by now, I am sure. You have been out too long, little one.”

Panic gripped the young shark, and she stared wide-eyed at the monkey.

“Not to worry," the money followed, "I know a pool that never drains where I live.”

“Oh, thank goodness! Please take me there, sir monkey!”

“Very well,” replied the money with a smirk, “follow me.”

They travelled swiftly, not sparing a second for the tide to pull any more water away. The monkey lightly hopped over the exposed mangrove roots, his toes curling around them. He cast a shadow that the shark followed from under the surface. Her tail swished through the undergrowth, and her heart trembled in the unknown environment.

Eventually, the pair settled upon a deep pool under a twisted mangrove tree. The monkey sat, and the shark poked her head above the water level to speak to him again.

“Thank yo-”

“Stay here until sunset, and the tide will be high enough to swim back to your family,” the monkey commanded stiffly, before climbing up a nearby tree.

The shark did as she was bidden and swam in little circles around the pool until the sun began to sink.

Unfortunately, as the sun began it’s descent, so did the level of water within the pool.

‘It’s just the tide finishing going out…’ she thought, as the water halved in depth.

‘The monkey said this pool never drains…’ she thought again, as the water sank below the seagrass.

“Why would he lie to me?” she questioned aloud when the fin on her back poked above the water, and her belly scraped the mud below.

“Because he is one of the most imbecilic creatures in this forest,” a voice replied, startling the shark.

She whipped around and saw a large, flat beak above her.

“Please don’t eat me!” the shark screamed in terror.

A spoonbill above her laughed; the air escaped her beak in a wheeze.

“I am not a child-eater, thank you very much!”

“Oh, right…” the shark laughed nervously, suddenly unsure what to say.

“I am here to help,” the tall spoonbill said calmly, extending her neck and grooming her wing briefly.

Suddenly, a loud rustling noise interrupted the pair.

“No! No! Absolutely not! Not again! This is my business! My territory!”

The monkey clambered over the mangrove roots toward the spoonbill, intent on scaring her away.

“Oh, enough of this hogwash, fool!” the spoonbill called back in anger, her voice turning from a soft coo to a sharp hiss.

“You stupid, pink-feathered…” the monkey fumed, his gangly arms flapping around in the air erratically.

“Why did you lie to me?” the shark asked in a small voice, upset.

The monkey looked away, fixing his gaze on something between his toes.

“Go on, I think you owe her an explanation,” the spoonbill said, with an air of a mother chastising a child.

“It’s not anything I have against you personally…” the monkey began, a guilty expression casting itself over his face, “…but I just don’t think sharks should be around here.”

The spoonbill scoffed, but the sound only served to spur the monkey on.

“They don’t belong here!” he whined. “When I was a child, there were only a few sharks in this forest; now we are overrun!!”

“Hardly,” the spoonbill dismissed.

“It’s true! We don’t need any more dirty sharks muddying the water around here!”

The spoonbill fluffed up, extending her neck to her full height and glaring daggers at the monkey. It seemed the time for talking was over. She looked ready to peck his eyes out. He took it as his cue to leave quietly.

“Why don’t I belong here?” the shark asked the spoonbill, looking up at her with glassy eyes.

“You do,” the spoonbill said softly.

“Why does the monkey think I don’t, then?” the shark pressed for an answer.

The spoonbill sighed.

“He believes, most incorrectly I might add, that sea creatures belong in the sea, and land creatures belong on the land, and to mix those creatures would be to discredit both…”

The shark looked at the spoonbill in confusion.

“He believes that your mother spawned you here to ‘cheat’ nature…”

“But it’s safer here… and there’s plenty of room!”

“I know, little one…I know.”

With that, the spoonbill dipped her long bill below the dwindling waterline and scooped up the shark gently with the bulbous end.

Swiftly, she took flight back towards the shark’s home pool. The shark wanted to ask how she knew where she and her siblings lived, but her mind was whirring at a dizzying pace. She was not meant for air travel.

Soon, the pair were hailed by a pool of young sharks, shouting and flipping above the waterline. Gracefully, the spoonbill landed on a mangrove root and deposited the shark back with her family.

Quickly and excitedly, the shark launched into a rapid retelling of her misadventures. Her siblings stared at her with wide eyes, enraptured.

“…and then…then he said we didn’t belong here…”

“What?”

“Why?”

“How?”

“He is wrong,” the spoonbill interrupted, startling the young sharks; they had forgotten she was there.

“How can you be sure?” one of the shark’s brothers asked.

“Because I have lived here many years and new creatures only make these waters richer,” she replied wisely.

The shark would reflect on that day for many years, and when she returned from the sea to lay her eggs in the mangrove forest, she waved at the old spoonbill. She felt soothed, leaving her young with such a kind sentinel.

Moral: Prejudice is the enemy of flourishing.

A/N: I wasn't sure how to approach a fable about immigration, I was unsure how to approach it, or even how 'obvious' to make the connection in the fable itself. I hope it hits its mark!

Also, did you know that lemon sharks lay there eggs in mangroves where they hatch and grow up in 'nursery' groups! How cute is that?

-TWW