The Vole King

I am so hungry I'm beginning to see things I thought. I had been traveling along this road for days now and I could not be far from my destination, but the more I rattled on without food in my belly, the slower and weaker I had become. If it had been up to me I would have eaten well before I left the last town, but sadly, it was not up to me. It is often not up to me. That is why I left home in the first place. To travel to a place where it would be up to me; a veritable land of milk and honey. I had not been the only one. I had been with a group within a group. It was a migration. Many of us stopped in the last town for food and rest but we found the town was being overrun with illness. It was a vile, breath-stealing plague that seemed to sweep the land just as we had arrived. Like many, I fell ill quickly. My traveling companions, easy rest their souls, did not abandon me but stayed behind to care for me and soon fell ill themselves. Sadly, they both succumbed quickly. For whatever reason, I did not succumb, and when I could breathe again I found that many of the travelers had moved on, were ill, or dead.

The illness had swept the entire town, and being a sizable place, it had erupted into chaos. I could not stay. In the confusion, I somehow managed to procure a very small bit of food and water, as well as get an answer to one of my many questions. "3 days walk." I was told. 3 days walk to the city of opportunity. 3 days walk to a new life. I somehow thought I could make it myself. I also thought I had no choice. I quickly realized I had overestimated myself. I trudged through the countryside, tired and weak, at a pace that would surely make my journey at least 4 days if the proclaimed was 3. Honestly, I had hoped another group of travelers might catch up to me. Maybe a group that had started the journey later, or a group with a horse and buggy. But as long as I had been walking I had not seen a single soul. To make matters worse, if any sign of life besides the growing grass could be found in front of or behind me I would not even know it due to the dense, gray fog that persisted throughout most of the day. Nothing but gray and grass as far as the eye could see. Not very far at all. Imagine my excitement when I saw little globes of bright red peeking through the gray. Not far from the road stood a beautiful tree full of ripe apples. I could not believe my eyes.

I veered off the road and headed straight towards the apple tree, snatching the first fruit I saw and taking a big bite. I wept from frustration as I devoured it, full of self-pity, but grateful. I finished the apple and was reaching for another when I realized I could make out what looked like a little farmhouse and a barn in the distance. Maybe I can do this I thought. There could be someone in that house willing to help me. Someone that could give me rest and a meal. Just for a night. Then I would surely make it to the new city in good health. I walked towards the farmhouse with newfound hope and knocked upon the door. A grizzly old farmer with bloodshot eyes answered, barely opening the door. He did not seem welcoming. "What?" He snapped, looking me up and down. I began to regret knocking immediately. I stammered as I spoke "Good morrow sir. I am traveling from-" "What do you want?" He interrupted. I began to feel foolish for thinking I could ask this stranger for food, let alone boarding. I lowered my expectations gravely. I could just do with a few apples and be on my way, I thought. "Good sir, I noticed there is an apple tree on your land, and being that many are falling to the ground at this time I was hoping I could-" "No." He said flatly, interrupting me again. "Now begone." He added before shutting the door. I felt my face heat. A mixture of anger and embarrassment. No matter, I thought. I will just take the apples and rest down the road. I had already eaten one anyway. I had forgotten why I even bothered to ask in the first place. I made my way back towards the tree and began to stuff my bag indignantly. I cursed the farmer as I looked at the many apples surrounding the tree, bruised and rotten. That's when I heard him.

From the farmhouse he came stomping through the mist, hoe in hand, face as red as his apples. He caught me by my bag and ripped it off my shoulders as I wrenched away from him. Apples flew everywhere. He was old but strong. It became painfully apparent to me how weak I had become. I put up what little fight I could but in the end, he overpowered me easily. He dropped his old hoe and put all his effort into dragging me towards the barn. Utterly exhausted, I kicked and screamed as much as I could, but in the end, I was thrown into the barn.

The old farmer closed the doors and dropped the heavy latch, locking me inside. I screamed and threw myself against the door. "Let me out!" I demanded. I thought I might faint. "Not unless you can cough up some coppers for those apples, tramp." Spat the farmer. I was incredulous, but in no place to argue. This farmer was clearly mad. I had made a mistake. "Please" I begged. "I don't have any money, I did not think-" "Of course you did not think." He barked. "Your type never thinks. No principles." He paused. I thought he might be considering that he had overreacted. Again, I was mistaken. "You sit there 'til you grow some." He said. And with that, he left. I had no idea how long he intended to leave me there, but I slept there that night.

The next day I heard the old farmer outside the barn, going about his work. Through the door I pleaded for him to let me out but he ignored me completely. I did not have the strength to scream. I'm not sure it would have done me much good anyway.

When night fell I lie awake on the ground, unable to sleep through the painful, nauseating hunger. The barn was cold, dusty, and nearly silent if not a little creaky. I heard a noise from outside. Like something soft falling from the sky and landing on the ground. That's when I saw a small rodent scuttle into the barn through a crack in the wall. A vole. In my hunger I leapt for it like a cat, catching it between my palms and squeezing my fingers around its fat little body." I could feel it's tiny heart pounding with fear. "Do not let her devour me..." I thought I heard it whisper. My own heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Have I gone mad? I was sure the vole had spoken to me. But I did not ask the vole how it had come to speak. All I could bring myself to ask was "Who?"

I heard a screech. In the darkness, I could make out a shape in the open barn window, high above me. An owl had landed there. Her head was turned in such a way that she seemed to ask "what are you doing with my prey?" Her look was unsettling. She surveyed me carefully, curious to know if I was going to release her catch or not. I held onto the little rodent and after about a minute had passed the owl decided to take off. I turned my attention back towards the vole, who spoke again. It was just as strange the second time. "Thank you, my friend." Said he. I paused. "No need to thank me," I said. "I was planning on eating you." It was the truth. The only reason I had abandoned the idea was because I began to doubt I could stomach eating a raw, talking rodent. The thought made me more nauseous than I already was. "My name is Jackin. I am king of this land." Said the vole. "My friend, I implore you, shelter me this night and guard me against my enemy the owl so that I may live another day. I will reward you handsomely." Somehow I mustered up a short laugh. "Be my guest." I said, letting him go. I was not about to ask a field mouse how it planned to help me out of this situation. Even a talking one. Even a "king". Jackin made his way to a corner and made a nest out of a small bit of hay. At sunrise he made his way back to the crack he had come through and bid me farewell. "Live long my friend." He said to me, before slipping through the crack. That day I did not even hear the farmer. I lay on the dusty floor, defeated, from sunrise to sunset.

Deep into the night, just before dawn, the owl returned. I heard her screech as she landed in the high window of the barn. She then flew towards the back, finding herself a nice place to roost. She preened her feathers, stretched her legs, and said to me "You shouldn't have interfered." "What?" I asked her stupidly. Another talking animal. I would never get used to it. "The other night. With Jackin. You shouldn't have interfered. He was old and slow. It was his time."

"I know," I said, recalling how easily I had caught him as he had just narrowly escaped the owl herself. "I was going to eat him." I said.

The owl let out something like a small soft chuckle. "Eat him? Why you are practically a vole yourself, eating the farmer's crops. No wonder he locked you in here. He doesn't like voles. He usually whacks at them with his hoe, or worse. You are one of the lucky ones." She said matter-of-factly.

"I'm not a vole." I snapped. "Aren't you supposed to be wise?" I asked.

"Who?" Said the owl. "Me? Of course I am wise. If I were you I would have eaten Jackin. As a matter of fact, this very night, I did eat Jackin."

Even in my current condition I felt my heart sink further. The fact that Jackin did not survive saddened me for some reason, even if I did not expect him to make good on his promise.

The owl began to wretch and after a few seconds coughed up a wet pellet, that plopped on the ground below rather unceremoniously. "Your king." She said. And with that she shut her eyes and went to sleep.

I fixated my eyes on the pellet as the sun rose. Soon I would be as dead as Jackin, I thought. The first beam of sunlight shone through the high window and illuminated the barn. I saw the pellet shimmer. Curious, I crawled over to it and found what appeared to be a little piece of gold sticking out of the refuse. I picked at the pieces of wet fur that concealed the shining bit and found that it was in fact gold. A little golden skull. There were yet more pieces. An entire skeleton. I picked through the pellet until I had removed every last piece, even the delicate little ribs, and I laid them out on the floor. The vole king. I heard movement from outside the barn. The farmer had returned. I gathered the pieces and made my way to the door as quickly as I could shouting "WAIT! WAIT PLEASE I HAVE GOLD! I CAN GIVE YOU GOLD!" I shouted.

This caught the farmer's attention. He unlatched the door and opened it wide, brandishing his hoe at me, shouting.

"Liar! Tramp! What kind of trickery is this!?" He spat. I shielded my face with one hand and held up the little gold bones in the other.

"Please!" I begged. "It's not a trick! Please! Let me go!" The farmer looked at the bones in bewilderment. He dropped his hoe and took the bones from me quickly. He began to examine them closely, holding the glimmering pieces up against the morning sun. He picked at the bones without saying anything for over a minute, utterly fascinated. I began to make my way towards the door and he did not even seem to care. I stepped outside the barn and still, he made no move to stop me, enthralled by his new treasure.

When I was completely outside I began to turn towards the road, but I stopped. I felt a wave of disgust take over me as I considered the farmer, still standing there, examining the bones in the sun. I picked up his old hoe and with the most strength I could muster I swung it hard, right at his head. He fell to the ground, clutching the bones. I then dropped the hoe and made my way to the apple tree.