Every Boy Should Have a Man

Like her, he was a talking man. Like her, he was a man of talent, and his talent was word singing. The boss would watch the mans as they gathered by the fires to listen to the word songs of Yellow Fellow, and he would send Red Man to join him as companion in music. She played on a kind of tinny drum she fashioned out of whispering stones and coal rocks of differing size.

The word songs of Yellow Fellow were very beautiful, and every man listened with attention unflagging.

Even the oafs would gather behind them and hum the parts they knew. But when the food wagon was delayed, the hungry ones entered the tents of mans with their long knives and pick-sticks drawn. The chant of Pick one, pick one, pick a nice fat one rang out through the death-still air of the black night, and every man cried out to the great creator for deliverance.

“Let it not be me! Let it not be me!”

The red-haired female man cried out for all mans: “Surely, you cannot eat us! We are your mans! We work by your side in the mines!”

The oafs would have eaten her to silence her cries, which troubled their sleep as well as their minds, but she was spared, for she was a favorite of the boss of the mines.

When they complained to him, he sucked his teeth. “Leave her be. It is but the cry of a man. Sleep through it.”

When she entered his tent and blasted her complaints loudly against his ear, he came to understand what the others meant when they said it was a disturbance to their sleep.

He put the muzzle on her and rolled over with his back to her. It helped but a little. She was his favorite, but as he lay there, a common working oaf, his precious sleep disturbed by the yapping of a man, he hatched a plan to punish her that brought a smile to his lips, if not relief to his ears.

The plan had much to do with her companion in music, Yellow Fellow.

* * *

He had a stout belly and was larger than she was — and he was stronger too, they knew, from his feats in the mines.

One day the boss watched amazed as Yellow Fellow saved her from a heavy stone that was falling, catching it with one hand and shoving her to safety with the other.

But outside the mines, he was sluggish and not much interested in the matches, most of which he won by intimidation into submission with his greater size.

He was not swift. He was not graceful. He quite often stumbled and bumbled into victories. No, he was not a great champion. He was champion by default, and he was the favorite of a lackadaisical and overconfident oaf who needed badly to be relieved of his silver.

“You are quicker than he is, true. But how will you turn advantage to victory?”

“His real weakness is his thin legs. I will knock against them, and when he topples I will wrap my arms around his neck. And then his battle is lost. I may not even have to apply my teeth.”

The boss nodded. “Good plan, little red top. Although,” he suggested, “I think you should apply your teeth regardless.”

She peered back with eyes that were dangerously weary, as though she wanted to apply her teeth to him.

“But I guess that is your choice to make.” He sucked in his cheeks and stepped back. “See to it then!”

They faced off behind the food wagon, everyone in attendance anticipating a great battle. But Yellow Fellow was too slow, too sluggish that day; she fearless and quick. In a flurry of noise and dust, it was over.

To all watching, the battle was hard fought and hard won, though brief. To the boss’s thinking it could have been harder and longer, but he happily collected his winnings from the gamblers who had wagered on the wrong side. With a wide grin, he relieved Yellow Fellow’s oaf of his burden of coin.

Then, since his pockets were heavy with silver, he extended the respite between periods of labor and demanded of the musical man a song. Yellow Fellow arose and cleared his throat. Red Man got with her whispering stones and her coal rocks of differing size to join him as companion in music.

And Yellow Fellow was a great singer of word songs.

He sang the Word Song of Elber-So-Wadle and the Village of Mans.

And the bard did sing:

In days of old, Elber-So-Wadle was betrayed and banished into the wilderness by the treacherous Ti-So-Wadle.
In the wilderness, the great lord Elber-So-Wadle did wander forty days without food and finally did collapse on the ground.
On the ground did he collapse.
He awoke in a bed too short for his legs.
When up-he-got to investigate, his head he-did-bump on a ceiling too low.
He bumped his head on a ceiling too low.
The room was furnished so small he thought he had been made to rest in the room of a child.
Then down-he-bent so as not his head-to-bump upon entering the grand room of the house.
He saw therein a couch, two chairs, and a hearth, again befitting a small child.
Elber-So-Wadle scratched his head in wonder.
“Perhaps I am still dreaming,” to himself said he.
“Still dreaming am I perhaps,” he said.
Then down-he-bent and out-he-went and found himself in surroundings familiar:
Trees, bush, farmyard, barn;
Hoss, bovin, chicken, little chickees.
But the farmer, his wife, and their children were all mans!
Farmer, wife, children were mans!
The great warrior Elber-So-Wadle did near faint at the sight.
The man man farmer said to him, “Ti-So-Wadle has betrayed you and wishes you dead;
“But this is your rescue from the great creator who knows that you are just and good;
“And you shall lead his people in right-eous-ness.
“In righteousness shall you lead them.”
“But who are you?” the great Elber-So-Wadle asked.
“I am Zack, the man man farmer, and this is the Vill-age of Mans.”
“Welcome, great lord Elber-So-Wadle, to the Vill-age of Mans!”
“The Vill-age of Mans welcomes you!”

And here the bard did end his song.

The applause was great from both oaf and man. In admiration, the female man touched the man man’s cheek lightly. Then the companions in music, Yellow Fellow and Red Man, bowed and said their final goodbyes.

When the bell tolled the end of respite, all went back to the mines and resumed their labor.

* * *

At the end of day when they bore him away, she followed as far as they would allow. From the basket where he awaited his fate,Yellow Fellow saw her and the boss heard him say: “I thank you.”