John Gardner - In the Suicide Mountains

“He thought and thought and finally said to his wife, ‘I will go and ask my brother for help.’ ‘Go then, fool,’ said his wife, ‘but your brother is an ape and a dolt and will not help you,’ and she spit out the window. He came to his brother’s house and said, ‘Ah, my own brother, help me a little in my misery. I have behaved toward you like a pig, like a spider and a weasel and an eel, and like a carp, because I thought you were a foolish oaf and beneath my notice. But now I am chastised and brought to my senses, for Misery sits here on my neck both night and day, and I cannot shake him.’

“ ‘Brother, leave it to me,’ said the brother who had been poor before, ‘I will see to it.’ He went out into his courtyard, cleft two oaken spikes, took a new wheel, and drove a spike into one end of the hollow shaft that went through the hub of the wheel. Then he came back to his brother who had Misery on his neck and said, ‘Misery, why do you do nothing but ride on people’s necks like a lummox?’ ‘What else shall I do?’ asked Misery. ‘What else? Come into the courtyard and play hide-and-seek.’ Misery was delighted with this idea. They went into the yard. First the merchant brother hid and then the once-poor brother. Misery found both of them with ease, and now it was Misery’s turn to hide. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you won’t find me so soon. I can get into any hole, no matter how small!’ ‘Braggart,’ said the once-poor brother. ‘You can’t even get into that wheel, let alone a hole.’ ‘I can’t get into that wheel? Just wait and see how I slip into that wheel!’ Misery crawled into the hollow shaft; the once-poor brother drove the second spike into the hollow shaft, picked up the wheel, and cast it, together with Misery, into the river. Misery drowned, and the brothers at last became steadfast friends, generous and loyal to one another to the death, and as rich as kings.”

T hat ,” said Chudu the Goat’s Son, with a look of disgust, “is not how things happen!”

“Never mind,” said the babe with a wink, “life follows art.”

They traveled for a day, and for another and another, a short way or a long, and they came to the palace at last with their wagonloads of treasure. There was a great celebration, and Christopher the Sullen and Armida the Blacksmith’s Daughter were married, and when the old king, many years later, was buried, Prince Christopher became king and made Chudu the Goat’s Son (though he never learned his name) Prime Minister, and the babe Archbishop. Christopher the Sullen was considered on all sides to be the bravest, manliest, most quick witted of kings, and his queen the sweetest and most lovable of aristocratic ladies, though she secretly went off on long trips and fought dragons. The Prime Minister frightened off all enemies by his calculated rages and crafty, saw-toothed smiles; the Archbishop did miracles and grew famous for his sermons and moralizing tales; and the world rolled on.