this is part two of the Boy & the Turtle. you can read part 1 here, or read the full story and give feedback on the google doc (much appreciated!)
thanks for reading — i hope your day is filled with connection and wonder 🦦🪨
may all beings be happy.
The old man smiled and sighed, stretching his hands towards the fire. Flames danced on the wind, and they listened for a moment to the gentle sound of silence.
“Ahh..Where to begin, young master?”
Don’s stomach rumbled. A piece of roast duck still hung above the fire, dripping fat. The man smiled again, tore the duck off the stick, and handed it to Don.
“But…are you sure? Don’t you want some of it?” he asked, tossing the hot leg back and forth, licking grease off his fingers. The old man waved a hand dismissively.
“I’ve had my fill, my friend. The only way I can enrich myself more is to give it all to you.” He peered at Don through bushy eyebrows. “You’ll need the strength for your journey.”
Don stared at him, touched. Then instinct took over, and the duck was disappearing into his mouth in quick bites. Don closed his eyes as he chewed, savoring the warm, flavorful juice running down his chin.
The old man picked up his flute and began to play again. Don leaned back, relaxing, watching the fire and munching happily. After some time, with only a few scraps of meat around the bones, Don noticed the turtle watching him.
He gazed back, stupefied. The turtle watched him with pure, ancient eyes that had seen the depths of mystery, and accepted them with a calmness he could not then understand. But that was not the thought that crossed Don’s mind. Instead, he thought, “What a beast!”
“I bet that turtle could feed my whole family for months! Bet the shell would fetch a pretty penny as well…maybe even enough to survive the winter, invest in some better tools for next season - A real chance to break out from the bad luck that had plagued them!”
Don smiled, feeling satisfied and wise. He had done it! He had solved his family's problems! He just needed to convince the old man to let him take the turtle with him - or he would trick him.
At this moment, the turtle blinked. Shivers rolled through Don’s back. Something about that slow, methodical motion made him know that the turtle had understood his thoughts. He paused, glancing nervously at the old man, whose eyes were again closed as he played.
The turtle eyed Don.
Don eyed the turtle.
Wind rushed across the hilltop, rattling the dry leaves of the maple above. Many broke free, spiraling down towards the earth as if dancing. The fire crackled. An owl hooted in the night.
And the flute paused.
Don glanced at the old man, frightened.
“Well, are you going to explain why you are thinking of eating my friend?”
Don yelped and scrambled to his feet, dropping the grisly duck bones on the ground. His eyes darted back and forth between the man and the turtle, muscles twitching, ready to run. But both continued to watch him patiently. Don took a deep breath and sat back down. “How…how did you know what I was thinking? Are you a magician?”
The old man smiled again. “Nope, hardly that. I am just an old man who learned to listen deeply, and see clearly what comes before him.” He gestures at the boy.
“When I saw you come before our fire tonight, I saw at once a young man venturing from his home, geared to hunt. It has been a hard year. Your bones are showing. It is not a bad thing to think of providing for others - far from it. But you must always be careful when it comes to taking from others - most of all when taking life.”
Don pulled his knees to his chest, looking between the man and the turtle with interest. “So, the turtle - he is yours? Your pet? Why do you keep him around?”
“No, she is not mine anymore than your father is “yours”, or your friends are “yours” back home. I call her Arla, and she is a friend.” The old man smiled fondly, patting Arla’s smooth shell.
“There is no ownership in friendship. No possession. You can not possess another living being. Our bond is one of friendship, and that means respect. Reciprocal exchange.” He nodded to himself, gazing off into the night. “Each day, we could go anywhere in the world, do anything that crosses our minds. Each day, we choose each other again. I trust Arla to make the right decision for her. We have become dear companions over the years. And yet we are not the same.”
Don sat with that, trying to take it in. The old man continued.
“I trust Arla to know and honor her own needs, and she trusts me. That means, should our needs ever carry us separate ways, we will go. We will part. We will give thanks for all that we’ve shared, and we will move on to our next journey.”
Don was horrified by this. “You mean, you would just separate and leave each other behind? Why, I couldn’t leave my friends and family behind me!”
The man nodded at that. “Indeed! And perhaps now is the time for you to be present with them, to embrace them as fully as you can and savor each passing moment. The mundane, the bittersweet, the joyful and the strenuous,...but someday that may change. You may find a need, an urge, calling you away. And you would do well to listen when it comes your way.”
“How can you ever say goodbye without knowing when, or if, you’ll ever see someone again?”
“A good question…We may not know where we are headed. We may not know what comes next, or if we will ever see each other again in this life. I choose to trust. I trust Arla. I trust that she will follow her truth and make the right decisions for herself. I trust the Universe, that it will guide us to where we are meant to be - and I hope should we be called to separate, we may find each other again. But most of all, I trust our experience. We know each other, care for each other, love each other…And I know that I will recognize her anywhere, be it in another body, another life, another world…”
He trailed off, and for a moment all they could hear was the sound of leaves on the wind.
“So you see, I choose to believe. I trust we will meet again, no matter where or when it might be. And so I am free.” He said this lightly, cheeks glowing, face stretched by his habitual smiling.
“I still can’t imagine saying goodbye to the people I love,” Don told the darkness quietly.
“It is never easy,” the old man admitted. “You will feel a great pain in your heart, as if it is splitting asunder. Nor will that pain be short. It will throb, pulse, and linger, stirred up by memories shared together. But this is not a bad thing. You simply need to treat your heart right.”
“And how is that?” asked the boy.
“By bathing it with gratitude,” said the man. “Bathe it with the warm glow of appreciation, and ask yourself, “What would they want for me?” Each time you feel a wave of pain, practice calling up gratitude in response, and breathe it all out into the present day.”
He raised his hands, gesturing as he spoke.
“If you can do this breath by breath, moment to moment, day by day, you will find yourself flowing along a river of acceptance. The pain will not go away - not ever. It will carve a trench in your soul, deepen your capacity to feel, and new opportunities will arise. New relationships will form, filling that empty space, and you will find yourself richer than you have ever been before, for you have fully accepted and appreciated your journey of life. It is then that you become most able to support those that you love. It is then that you become who you need to be.”
They lapsed into a deep silence.
Don thought long and hard on the old man’s words, contemplating their meaning in his own life. One by one, the three travelers fell asleep: first the old man, snoring heartily, then the turtle, head resting on the earth peacefully, and at last Don, whose eyes were weary, body warm and fed, mind percolating with stories and questions of a life lived well.
He leaned back against the roots of the maple tree. His legs were curled near the fire, of which only embers remained, glowing red. The wind whispered, the leaves shook, and an owl hooted overhead. The moon, nearly full, glowed down, and Don drifted off into a deep, contended sleep.
P.S. I’m hosting a Story Hour at the Warwick Library!!
Come join us at the Warwick Library on Thursday night, March 21st from 7:00-8:00pm for an hour of connective story telling, or "sonderlust".
In this workshop, we will reflect on the most meaningful people in our lives and share their stories in small groups. This practice offers an opportunity to reconnect with gratitude, to see deeply into the heart of others, and to share the lights of your life as well.
This space is for us to gather, reconnect, and remember the bonds of life we share. The soil of our lives is made of these connections. With these talks, we honor who has brought us here, and plant seeds for new relationships to arise.
We will end the night with a closing prompt and group circle. The event is free. Donations welcome. Please RSVP by email here and feel free to share!