The Boy Who Cried Wolf
Once upon a day there was a boy who liked a good joke.
The first time.
“There’s a wolf coming to eat your bread!” he screamed as he ran into the village.
The villagers ran to get their freshly baked bread and put it out of reach of the canus lupis, and then they screamed at their children: “Climb a tall tree, quickly, children, and keep your clothes clean!”
“Where is the wolf?” asked Ignatius, the tall and serious village chieftain.
“Ha ha!” the boy said. “Just kidding. There’s no wolf.”
Everyone glared at Edgar.
“Someday,” Ignatius said. “Someday, your joking will get you into big trouble, Ed.”
“Ha ha!” he’d say. “Just a little joke. And my name is Edgar, not Ed.”
And all was peaceful.
Six days later.
Edgar ran into the village: “Look out! Three wolves are coming and they’re going to eat your fresh jam!”
The villagers scurried to get their freshly-made jams and jellies to a safe place, and then shrieked at their children to climb onto a safe roof without getting their clothes dirty. ]
“Where is the wolf?” asked Ignatius, the tall and serious village chieftain, after things had settled a few hours later and no wolf had appeared.
“Ha ha!” the boy said. “Just kidding.”
Everyone glared at Edgar.
“Someday,” Ignatius said. “Someday, your joking will get you into big trouble, Ed.”
“Ha ha!” he’d say. “Just a little joke. And my name is Edgar, not Ed.”
And all was peaceful.
Three days later.
Edgar ran into the village: “Look out! Seven wolves are coming and they’re going to eat your little children!”
The villagers scurried to get their freshly-made jams and jellies and breads to a safe place, and then yelled at their children to climb to get to safety, if possible.
“Where is the wolf?” asked Ignatius, the tall and serious village chieftain, after things had settled a few hours later and no wolves had appeared.
“Ha ha!” the boy said. “Just kidding.”
Everyone glared at Edgar.
“Someday,” Ignatius said. “Someday, your little joking will get you into big trouble, Ed.”
“Ha ha!” he’d say. “Just a little joke. And my name is Edgar, not Ed.”
“Okay Ed,” Ignatius said gravely.
And all was peaceful.
Seventeen days later
Edgar ran into the village: “Look out! A hundred wolves are coming and they’re going to eat your little children!”
The villagers scurried to get their freshly-made breads and rolls and jams and jellies and breads to a safe place, and then yelled at their children to climb to get to safety, if possible.
“Where is the wolf?” asked Ignatius, the tall and serious village chieftain, after things had settled a few hours later and no wolves had appeared.
“Ha ha!” the boy said. “Just kidding.”
Everyone glared at Edgar.
“Someday,” Ignatius said. “Someday, your joking will get you into big trouble, Ed.”
“Ha ha!” he’d say. “Just a little joke. And my name is Edgar, not Ed.”
“Okay Ed,” Ignatius said gravely.
And all was peaceful.
Eight years later.
Edgar ran into the village: “Look out! A huge rabid wolf is coming and it’s going to eat all the children!”
The villagers kept about their business because they knew Edgar was just playing a little joke.
“Look out!” he said. “It’s a giant one! It’s coming!”
They ignored him. And of course the wolf never came. Because he was joking. Everyone was fine. So it was a happy ending.
A happy ending for that day.
Thirteen years later.
Edgar ran into the village: “Look out! There’s a pack of wolves coming and they’re very hungry and want to eat all your bread and jellies and children!”
This time, he was right, and that is exactly what happened. Very sad. Edgar hightailed it out, and for the rest of his life he wished that people had just listened to him.
Much later.
Eventually the village died off, because there were no children to populate it, and Ignatius was the last to die. On the second to last day before he died, he got a visitor, as he sat in the crumbling village square, alone and waiting for the wolves.
He looked up. “Hello Ed. What are you doing here?”
Edgar sat beside him. “I heard you were dying and wanted to come say goodbye.”
“Thank you Ed,” Ignatius croaked. “It’s true. I’ll probably die tomorrow. Thank you for coming. I don’t have many visitors these days.”
“I figured,” Edgar said. “I heard the village didn’t do so great after all the children got eaten by the wolves.”
“That’s right,” Ignatius said. “Things were a little different after that.”
“Hey,” Edgar said. “I never realized you’re missing eight of your fingers! What happened?”
“Oh that.” Ignatius said. “Wolves got them.”
“That is unfortunate,” said Edgar. “Hey, can I ask you one thing?”
“Of course, Ed.”
“Would you mind,” Edgar said. “Calling me ‘Edgar’ instead of Ed?”
“Of course! You should have told me!” Ignatius exclaimed.
Edgar looked at the tired old man sitting next to him and gently patted his hand, the one with two fingers. “You’re right, Ig,” he said. “I should have told you.”
They sat there, sad and happy together, and ate a jelly and bread as the sun went down.
The End.
Postscript : Call people the name they want to be called.
——
Citations: [Original source material: Aesop]