When I was I kid, I would bug my
mother to "read me a story." She did, but often times she was too
tired after work to do it, so I stopped asking and ultimately didn't have that
ultimate, storybook-fairytale experience that most kids are privy to during their
first 5.
It did two things, made me unfamiliar with fables
and made my mind race with stories I created on my own.
But one fairytale that does come to mind is the
Bohemian Folk-tale, "Jezinkas" by Albert
Henry Wratislaw.
Jezinkas,
follows the story of a orphaned boy who is looking for a place to live and have
a relationship of reciprocal, emotional value. During the story he meets an old
man who is unable to care for himself and his heard of goats after he gets
blinded by 3 "Jezinkas". The Jenzinkas are beautiful women, sisters
who tempt and lure unsuspecting victims with soothing trinkets that eventually
put them to sleep. While the victims are sleeping, the Jezinkas steal their
eyes out of their sockets. The boy is taken in by the blind old man who sees
the boy as a blessing to him. He warns the boy not to venture off too far, for
danger maybe awaiting him on the other side.
There are a few themes that come to mind while
reading this story. In today's social climate, we have really forgotten about
human nature. We simply don't help the less fortunate, we don't pay it forward,
we don't reach back and pull others up and we often forget our own struggles.
The orphan boy in the story reminds of these things. The orphan also teaches us
that sometimes when we are going through our own struggles, helping someone
else is also helping ourselves. In the story it also reminds us that what goes
around comes back around. The Jezinkas went around robbing people of their
livelihood. They were good at it and did it for such a long time it not only
became normal, they became arrogant, felt that they were untouchable and didn't
think that someone would ever trick or trap them.
It reminded me of a story that a college friend
once told me about his brother, being his keeper.
His Brothers Keeper
Eric was a 4-year-old boy who never knew why his brother left. All he could
remember was the Sade song that played on that rainy day in October of 1986.
Kyle was a 17-year-old man doing what he had to do to survive. He knew
if he didn’t leave, his brother would never stand a chance. Thirteen years had
passed before they looked each other in the eye again.
Kyle left his fathers house and never looked back, he never stopped thinking
about Eric. Kyle never stopped wondering if the agonizing nights had been like
his. Kyle remembered. He remembered being 4, 5, 6, 7, the screams of passion,
the slams, the screams into the moon and the music that played thereafter, that
seemed to make everything right. He remembered the nights, full of dark,
sweaty, whiskey-scented musk. Groans of a pleasuring disdain oozing from his
body against the dark moonlight. He remembered the day that his mother died,
the day his brother was Eric. Eric saved him. He remembered the day that he
left his fathers control. It was the day that replayed in his mind more than
the other times and days before that one.
Eric hated Kyle. He often thought how could his brother leave him alone to fend
off their father. How he could abandon him. Eric bore the weight of the
world of on his shoulders. He hated the fact that he may spend the rest of his
life in that house with his father having to make up for his mother and his
brother.
Thirteen years had past.
Eric was a 17-year-old man doing what he had to do to survive. Kyle was
a 30-year-old man doing what he knew he had to do to survive. As Kyle
stood at the doorway, he stuck the key in the lock and it turned. The smell was
familiar. Whiskey-scented musk. The sound was familiar groans of a pleasuring
disdain oozing from his body.
Kyle made his familiar trek down the
hall, into his father’s room. He was faced with his past, now very much his
present as his brother and father all made eye contact, he could see his father
get visibly shaken. As Kyle lunged towards him with his hands going at his
father’s neck, he stopped. He looked in his fathers eyes and they all knew it
was over.
Even though we may not always know it,
someone will always be there to help when we need it the most. Someone always
understands.
