Esmeralda

 

Esmeralda had never heard of young Jack. Neither had Bronte, her beagle.

They knew nothing of brilliant beans, grim giants or helpful hens. If they did, this story might have ended differently.

In Aridstan, Esmeralda’s home state, it rarely rained. Rocks and sand covered much of the land instead of trees and soil.

Water was available but only from their mean ruler, Lord Liquid. Years ago, his great-great-great-and-even-greater grandparents had discovered an underground spring and shared the life-giving water with everyone.

Not Lord Liquid though. He guarded his deep water supply. Everybody had to pay for water. They had no choice. Digging a well in the rocky ground was impossible.

Now Esmeralda lived with her disabled father. Of course, no one believed she could understand Bronte. People often said to her dad, “I think your daughter is a tad strange.” He always replied, “Ezzie’s not strange, just special.” He called her ‘Ezzie’ and so did her friends.

Each day Ezzie tended their vegetable garden. She would sell tomatoes she had grown and, when needed, take the money to buy water.

One afternoon, on her way to visit Lord Liquid, an odd-looking man stopped her. He had a long beard, huge ears, tiny shoes and wore an ill-fitting hat. On his back he carried a sack.

“Young lady, this bag contains magic stones that were formed by a waterfall in a far-away land. They can provide an endless supply of fresh sparkling water. I will trade them for the coins in your pocket.”

Following a short conversation with Bronte, Ezzie bought the smooth pebbles and hurried home.

You might imagine her father tossed the stones out the window. You might even think he sent Ezzie to bed–without supper of course. Not so. Although annoyed, her Dad said, “Ezzie, we really needed water, I hope it rains tomorrow. Leave the rocks in a pile in the backyard.”

By morning, the stones had multiplied one-thousand fold and formed a circle almost a metre high. To Ezzie’s amazement the waterfall pebbles were now the top of a deep shaft.

Her excitement soon turned to dismay. She dropped a large rock into the well. Clunkety-clunk, clunkety-clunk, clunkety-clunk, clunk.

“No splash–no way,” said Ezzie. “These enchanted stones created a magic well. Where is the water?”

Ezzie grabbed a length of knotted rope and tied it to the nearest tree. She tossed the end into the hole and climbed down into the darkness.

On reaching the bottom of the well, Ezzie found herself in a huge cavern. On the far side of this cave she could see and hear an underground brook. She guessed this was Lord Liquid’s secret water spring.

As she clambered over the rocks towards the flowing stream a gigantic cryptid blocked her path. The beast stood upright, balanced by small legs and a heavy tail. Its long snout contained hundreds of tiny razor-sharp teeth. Thick, spikey scales covered its greenish-brown body.

At the sight of Ezzie, the monster lifted its head. Baring its jagged fangs, it let out a terrifying roar. Esmeralda stood petrified. The drooling, cryptid circled–would Ezzie be the best meal it had ever eaten? The animal lumbered closer and closer. Ezzie lifted her hands in horror and screamed, “Stop. Please stop.”

Meanwhile, Ezzie’s Dad realised his daughter had disappeared into the well. He wanted to rescue her but was unable to climb down the rope.

Staring into the dark hole, he waited and waited. Suddenly, Ezzie appeared and scrambled to the top of the magic well.

“Dad, I’ve found the water we need. At the bottom of the well is a large cave, a babbling brook and a ferocious cryptid. The creature looked scary but was just a friendly sea monster.”

“We talked heaps. And Dad, his favourite food is tomatoes. Best of all, if we lower a bucket with tomatoes, he agreed to fill it with water.”

So Ezzie, her dad, and Bronte never ran short of water again. They even had enough to share with others.

And on the first Tuesday of every month, Dad lowered Ezzie and Bronte down the well. Beside the underground stream they played charades with their new friend, the creepy cryptid.

The moral of this story is four-fold. Fathers everywhere believe their daughters are special; water is precious, and friendships are built on sharing. Finally, speak kindly to animals, even strange ones–they might not talk back, but they do understand.