Doris Plantus-Runey 3550 Words
1230 E. South Blvd.
Troy, MI 48085
Druney5884@wideopenwest.com
The Devil’s Horse
Once upon a popularly traveled road, there was a well, and beside the well sat an old woman huddled upon some tattered rugs, and she mashed with her gums a piece of biscuit dipped in a cup of cold water. Whenever she saw a traveler on foot or horseback, or by wagon cart, the old woman stopped chewing the biscuit in her mouth, stretched out her right hand and begged mournfully from the tip of her tongue:
"Take pity on me and gives alms, dear, to a poor sinner without strength!" If someone gave her something the old woman replied, "Bogdaproste măiculiţă! the good Lord receive you…whence comes your offering, may prosperity spring!" Rare it happened that a Christian traveler would pass by so destitute an old woman without being pressed, at least after his fashion, into giving something; if not a small coin, perhaps a crust of bread, and if not so much as even this, surely a kind word. When one would say: "Have faith, old one, some other time!" she would reply "I believe it, dear, I have faith…may the good Lord have faith in us all!" Afterwards, she would resume dunking her biscuit in the cup and start begging all over again.
One day, being that it was market day in the valley, world after world of people had set off in that direction with the first light. On their way, they said the usual "have faith" to the old woman; but toward evening, on their return, some gave what their hearts permitted…Such is the common practice at the marketplace: the man trades what he can trade, he buys, he sells; afterwards, a little whiskey, a little wine, a little conversation, he feels good, and later on he remembers the souls of his dearly departed and gives alms in measure with his abilities. And so, on that particular day, the old woman remained grateful for a full sack.
Slowly-slowly, as evening fell, the people appeared more sparsely on the road, travelers waned more and more, until no one was left walking by sunset, when the moon showed itself rising in the east. Since night had fallen completely, the old woman rummaged through her sack and pulled out some sweet bread given her by one of a flock of young girls, who had passed by there singing, yipping, and carrying on with their crazy antics, typical of all the girls when they return flushed from dancing, for at the market everyone danced a great hora. The old woman dipped her sweet bread and tasted it, then said:
"Bogdaproste! today I had great fortune…may the good Lord keep that girl to a ripe old age, like mine!"
Then the old woman wrapped herself in her tattered rug, she put her sack for a pillow, lay down and she curled up snug on her left side, with her back to the moon so the light wouldn’t shine in her eyes…Just right for sleeping…Not too cold, not too hot; as for wind, not so much as a breath; on the fields, such a silence on all four sides that one could hear the scurrying of insects as they crawled in and out of the straw miş-miş, and the water gurgling through the casing of the well between the rocks—because that’s how water is, like the life of a man! only that life runs as long as it runs and then stops, but water runs always, since the world began, and until the world ends, it will never stop…
The old woman had closed her eyes, and with her thoughts who can know where, she sighed from time to time…and sleep didn’t come; once more she thought, again she sighed and fidgeted so as to accommodate her frail little bones with rest, for naught! she couldn’t so much as nod off. The moon by now had risen two spear lengths, when it seemed to the old woman that footsteps approached from the hill, out of the west. She strained her ear and heard perfectly well that a traveler drew near. She blinks her eyes and sees him coming closer at that. She raised herself up from her waist, stretched out her hand and started her canon gently:
"Have mercy on me and give alms, dear, to a poor wretched sinner like me without strength!"
Meanwhile the traveler arrived to the right of the well; he heads directly toward the old woman and says to her:
"Good evening, granny; what…you aren’t asleep yet?"
"I haven’t slept, dear, because I am not sleepy, woe is me!"
The traveler sits down beside the old woman, in the light beating down from the moon, and draws a heavy breath of weariness...
"Where are you coming from, dear sir, that you are traveling so late on the road?"
"Ah! Where am I coming from? I come from far away…"
"From far away, is that so?...And…where are you going?"
"Ah! Where am I going…I’m going far away."
"Far away, is that so?...But…what’s your name, sir?"
"Prichindel is my name…"
"So… how old are you?… because you look pretty green to me."
"Going on 17…"
"So…do you have parents?"
"No, because I was an abandoned child..."
"So…have any brothers?... sisters?
"I might have, but I don’t know them."
"How’s that? You might have and you don’t know them?...What kind of talk is this?"
"Now didn’t I tell you that I was an abandoned child?"
"Sure, that part I understood; but the thing is, I want to know…"
"Listen here, old woman, I mean why would you get under my skin like that?"
"Because I too want to know…"
"What’s it to you, ma’am?"
"Well, why shouldn’t I care, huh?" asked the old woman with amazement. "You know I like you! Why, the idea! Shouldn’t I know what kind of wandering rif-raf I am hosting this night…is that it?"
"Of course, but really, do you have count the number of teeth in my mouth…?
"Look here, you! …so what, just because I count them doesn’t mean I’ll pull them out."
The old woman’s words amused the boy, and he says:
"Oh, boy! Just my luck to have found myself such a great hostess! Instead of asking me ‘Have you eaten something today, son?... Are you hungry? You give me the third degree on an empty stomach."
"Come on, now, what have I done wrong?...You, why are you such a goof, so quiet and all?...Haven’t you learned yet a kid doesn’t get a tit until he cries?"
"Sure, I found that out myself; but seeing as how you came at me with questions from the start, when was I supposed to say anything?"
"Come here, silly boy."
And saying this, she removes from her sack a rack of pork ribs, two different kinds of bread and some honey, and she gives them to him:
"Take, and have at it for I can see that you’ve got teeth, praise God, I see that you have."
The boy ate with a ravenous appetite; he thanked his hostess and bent over the well to take a drink.
"What are you doing, huh?"
"What do you mean, what am I doing?...I want to drink."
"Goodness, drink cold water after smoked ribs? Here, take this."
And from her sack she gave him a small flask of whiskey made from horsemint.
"Learn well from me, boy: you shouldn’t drink water after eating something heavy, because it will double you over…understood?"
"Understood...wow, you sure know a lot of things, don’t you, ma’am."
"Of course I know, naturally, how could I not know? Afterall, at my age, as you can plainly see with your own eyes, I didn’t get here like a dog through the water…You know what they say: look at the face and ask me about life…Ha ha! my son; when would
I have the time to tell you who I am…"
"I understand," said the boy, yawning; but I say, aren’t we going to rest at all tonight?.. It’s kind of late."
"Let he who is sleepy, sleep, my boy!..as for me, my sleep has been scared away; I could talk until daybreak, if you like…"
"Yes, ma’am, you could, because you didn’t travel two stations-worth on foot all day. But me, I would like to rest, if I can be honest."
And again he yawned.
"Then," says the old woman, "go to bed, sleepyhead; for I’ll stay a little while longer… Take this rug and enjoy, because by daybreak it will be cooler."
If the boy went to bed and covered himself, the old woman says,
"Turn over on your other side, you, so the light from the moon doesn’t shine in your eyes...Do you want me to tell you a story, so you can sleep better?"
"Say."
"But, the point is, will you listen?"
"I’ll listen."
"Once upon a time there was, a time like never before, because if there wouldn’t have been…"
"…it wouldn’t be told…" mumbled the boy.
"I gather you know this one…" says the old woman.
"I just know the beginning."
"Ah! The beginning is nothing; you should see the middle and the end, sir…"
And she followed with this:
"…when fleas were shod with ninety-nine ocă of iron and…"
"…they jumped to the sky," again mumbled the boy.
"Come on, now, tell me truly…if you know this one, I’ll tell you another."
"Keep going, old woman, stop trying me, just tell the story!"
"Then shut your mouth and listen!...Once there was a king and a queen, rich beyond need, spoiled rich; and they prayed constantly to God to give them at least one child…and they prayed, and they prayed, but in vain they prayed…So, when they had lost all hope, because they were old-old, really old, rotten with age, but then here comes a gypsy, even older than them, and she says she’ll cure them with a snowdrop flower…"
The old woman heard something just then and stopped telling the story…
Prichindel was snoring on the ground, and the moon, three spear-lengths high in the sky.
The old woman leaned over sideways to see if the boy was covered properly, because she felt sorry for him; when she looked more closely, she sees the covering on the boy sort of raised up in one part; she presses on it…again the rug rises; again she smoothes it down…again up goes the rug. The old woman says to herself:
"Let’s have a better look"… and gently she pulls off the rug, reaches out with her hand and finds a tail!..."Now I understand!" She puts the rug back in place over the sleeping boy and begins tenderly to run her fingers through his hair. She starts first from the nape of his neck and, when she gets to his forehead, she feels with her hand two little hard bumps—need more be said? —two veritable horns.
"Ah!" says the old woman, "so you are one of these?...Nevermind, I know your craft, sir!"
She grapples one hand in his hair, and with the other, she seizes his tail, pulling him like so and like so. The boy jumps from his sleep.
"What is it, old woman?"
"The jig’s up, you scoundrel, for I will not call you anything nicer. And after I received you as a guest, me, a helpless wretch, and showed you hospitality, treated you honorably, like a nobleman, and you, a strapping and powerful youth, playing the saint and pretending to nod off, that I should tell you a story and watch over you to keep the flies off—huh? What kind of game is this? Get up, you dog, you’ve slept long enough! Look at that beautiful moon—come on, let’s go for a walk."
"What is it, granny, are you sick or something? Lie down over there and leave me to rest…Didn’t I tell you how tired I am?"
"Oh stop it, don’t be so moody…as if I didn’t know what’s what."
"Oh, right, and you know so many things."
"You should know that I’m onto you, oh, I know you and who you are. What are you trying to pull? Oh, you’re a poor motherless child; oh, you have no brothers, oh, you are a misbegotten wanderer. As if I didn’t see your ornaments—devil! What were you thinking? Come now, get up, let’s go, do you hear?"
And again she rousts him.
"Calm yourself, old woman. Leave me be!"
"I will not, you worthless rascal, until we take a walk, just so, from here to there, just until I get sleepy...Come on, get up!
"Ah!" says the boy, "I found my misfortune with this old woman…best you understand when a man speaks to you!"…
"But are you a man?"
"What else am I?"
"A man, is that it? Who, for the love of Pete, ever saw a man with a tail and little horns? Do you think you can pull my chain, you—me?" Ha ha! Silly boy. You don’t know who I am…me…these little things, you and your ilk—you should ask your brother, ask Aghiuţa—at least with him, we go back a long time—he could tell you; and you can tell him from me, that I said why doesn’t he come around anymore?..What? is he angry? Come on, let’s go…Get up once and for all, or I’ll smack you."
The Devil—what other purpose has he than to tempt and deceive mere mortals, and to make fun of their souls, damn him to hell! And what could possibly be running through Prichindel’s mind seeing that he cannot get rid of the old woman? He raises himself up and says:
"Well, granny,, what can I say? Seeing as how sleep has been frightened from me as well, it’s almost as if—as if I would like to take a stroll on the moon."
"Well, then what are you waiting for?…Let’s go!"
"But not on foot…"
"What do you mean, eh? on horseback?"
"Riding, of course; riding, I’ll go."
"Well get a load of this! You’re a bit touched in the head, according to all the signs. Where am I supposed to find a horse at this wee hour?...What—are your father’s stables somewhere nearby, that you can clap your hands and young stallions magically appear at the gate?...I pity your cocky airs. Don’t you think at all about what you are saying? It’s not becoming."
"Did I say ‘horse’? I said ‘riding’."
"What do you mean?"
"And I feel sorry for you too, ma’am, because you just told me how many things you know, and you comprehend everything, yet I realize, you don’t get it…."
"For instance?"
"You, ma’am, want us to go for an outing…"
"Yes, so…"
"So I will go gladly, but only riding will I go...So?"
"SO?"
"So take me on your back, and let’s go. Just look at that moon!"
"You should be ashamed of yourself!" said the old woman, "a strong vigorous young man like yourself, in the flower of your youth, could take advantage of a poor wretched old woman like myself, without strength…I should carry you on my back of frail little bones? Hear ye-hear ye!"
"Shame or not, this is it. If you please, fine, if not, leave me alone to sleep."
"This is it?"
"This is it. If you are a powerless old woman, why are you burning to going for a walk?...Stay and rest your ‘frail little bones’."
And saying this, Prichindel lay back down to sleep. The moon winked overhead… The old woman lay down as well; she closed her eyes, and stayed as long as she could.; she tossed and turned this way and that, when suddenly she remembers something and says:
"Are you asleep, Prichindel?"
"Again? what is it now, old woman?"
"Hey, get up, you, there’s something else I want to say…"
"What’s that?"
"Say, Prichindel, what if I can’t carry you, eh? Because the way I see you, sturdy and all, you’d have to be heavy…
"We should just try it. What’s to lose?"
Ah! Damn you, anyway!... Listen here, dear, sweetie, the devil’s wiles who put the crazy idea in Satan’s head: a craving to go riding? Come on, sonny, it will be better on foot rather than riding, it’s nicer that way."
"On foot I cannot."
"No?"
"No…"
The old woman is silent for a while and after that:
"Oh, hell! Let’s go. Get up…let’s see what we can do…let’s do as you propose, lest you reproach me."
They both got up…The old woman crouched down a bit and called to Prichindel:
"Let’s go, hopa!"
"Hang on tight, granny!"
Up he goes on the old woman’s back, while the old woman:
"Say, boy, listen to me, boy, don’t sit to heavily upon me and don’t dig your heels in me too much like a novice…Hold on with both hands around my neck! Let’s go. That’s it!"
…The old woman got it right when she said that she knew many things, and he, next to nothing. Stupid Prichindel—devil-devil, but he didn’t understand. Just as soon as he seized her around the neck, the old woman shook off her rags and ugliness and suddenly turned into a young and vibrant woman, tall and beautiful like a fairy, shining on the earth the way the moon shines in the sky—being that this old woman was the daughter of a great king, who, from when she was a girl, had given herself to the study of spells and the practice of enchantments, and for her sins, she was cursed to become a wandering old hag, never again to have her youthful looks except whenever she could fool the devil, and that, only during the night time. Thus, by the time I explain in these few words, the old woman, that is the King’s daughter, or the fairy—whichever you prefer—was long gone with Prichindel. She ran like the wind so effortlessly, it was as if she barely touched the ground; her blond hair flew unfurled over Prichindel’s head, while beneath the moonlight, all the different kinds of water rustled like violet silk woven with butterfly brocade and silver strands that wrapped around her.
For a long time they ran like this.
"We should stop and catch our breath," said Prichindel, dizzy, when they got to a meadow.
But why should she listen to him? Whenever they slowed down she took off even faster and faster, until they came upon a field of fragrant while roses, and here she began settling herself down, and little by little she slowed down to a walk…Then, stopping altogether, she says:
"Listen!"
At once in the silence of the full moon the voice of a nightingale was heard in the shadow of a bush.
"Do you like it, dear Prichindel?"
"Fantastic!" he replied.
"Do your regret losing your sleep over a stroll?"
"Aw, come on!"
"Shall we go some more?"
"Onward!"
And again the king’s daughter took off...
They rode a lot, and saw many meadows with many more flowers! and so many birdsongs, each more different than the others, they had heard. But when they were so far away from where they had started, they emerged form a small forest into a wide field toward the east, suddenly Prichindel cried out in alarm,
"Day is breaking!"
She stops abruptly, gazes out and sees, in truth, the dawn twinkling;
"Here is your road then—hang on tight!"…She soared as the devil’s horse soars, over molehills, ditches, stumps, thicket, and ponds—that poor Prichindel saw three moonsdancing in the sky instead of one. Just when they arrived in one soul back at the well by the side of the road, she tossed devil off like a ball of yarn; meanwhile she shook herself and in an instant curled up the tattered rug on the ground—the same old woman from this evening…He got up, banged up from the fall and says:
"Be well, granny!"
"Travel in good health, Prichindel, dear!"
The boy left limping-limping back to the hill toward the west where the moon was escaping…the old woman yelled after him:
"Hey—do you hear?...When will you be back in these parts?"
"Some other time…Who knows when?" he replied without turning to look back.
"Hey, boy, listen…don’t forget to tell your brother that I am still waiting for him…do you hear?"
But before she could finish the boy vanished as though he disappeared into the ground.
The old woman sighed and lay down, but she barely closed her eyes when she had heard the sound of travelers on the road. She sat up and with her hand outstretched she began her heartbreaking chant again:
"Have pity …"
When one among them interrupts her words,
"So you have woken up early this morning, huh, granny?
"What can I do, dear, if I can’t sleep, woe is me! Have pity on a poor sinner with no strength!
"Have faith, some other time," says the other.
"I do have faith, dear, I have faith. May the good Lord have faith in us all!
After she pulled from her sack a piece of bread and she dipped it in a cup of cold water, and began to mash it with her gums.