Oscar Wilde is known for his plays, his social criticism and poetry, as well as his fables.  One such fable, “The Happy Prince” was a particular favorite of Larry’s, and he decided to write his own version of the story.   The assignment required matching Wilde’s syntax exactly, as well as following the thematic arc of the story.  Larry’s accomplishment, “The Wise Man with the Hawk”, is by turns humorous and touching.

The Wise Man with the Hawk

 

 

Right in the middle of the city, on a flat platform, sat the wise old man with his hawk. He was tattered all over with wrinkles of dirty fabric, for his eyes he had very big glasses, and a fierce hawk stood on his shoulder.

He was very much admired indeed. “He is a wise old owl,” remarked one of the old councilmen who was known for his kindness and good taste.

“Why can’t you be like the wise man with the hawk?” said a stockbroker to his assistant who was crying for a raise. “The wise man with the hawk never dreams of a raise.”

“I am glad that someone in the world is quite relaxed,” muttered the mayor of the town.

“He looks just like the Buddha,” said the Buddhist monk as he came out of the bathroom in his 200 year-old robe passed down from his master.

“How do you know?” said the Christian monk, “you have never seen him.”

“Ah! But you haven’t seen Jesus either,” answered the monk; and the Christian monk frowned and glared severely, for he did not approve of him criticizing his religion.

One night there flew into the city a rich handsome man in his jet. His friends had gone away to the US six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful girl. He met her early in the spring when he was on vacation catching a fish.

“Shall I love you?” asked the rich handsome man, who likes to be straight forward, and the pretty young girl pecked him on the cheek. He went back and forth to his car, and touched the woman with his hands and offered her many many presents. This was to show his love and it lasted all through the winter.

“It is a ridiculous attachment,” tweeted the other men; “she has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the town were quite full of her cousins. Then, when the autumn came they rode away.

After they had gone he felt lonely, and began tire of his lady-love. “She has no words,” he said, I am afraid that she is unattainable, for she is always flirting with the doctor.” And certainly, whenever the other man came the beautiful woman would giggle and laugh. “I admit that she is shallow,” he continued, “but I love spending money, and my wife, consequently, should love spending money also.”

“Will you travel to the US with me?” he said finally to her; but the beautiful woman shook her head, she was sick she could not travel.

“You have been cheating with me,” he cried. “I am off to the Oscars. See-ya!” and he flew away in his custom Air Force 1 plane.  All week long he traveled, and at nighttime he arrived at the town. “Where is the 5 star hotel?” he said; “I hope the town has an Apple store.”

Then he saw an old homeless man.

“I will sleep in that 5 star next to the old man,” he cried, “It is a fine hotel, with plenty of wi-fi service!”

“I have a great and beautiful bedroom,” he said loudly to himself as he looked around and prepared to eat a snack; but just as he was putting the food in his mouth a loud tap pounded on his door. “What a curious thing!” he cried; “there is not a soul on this floor and the lights are all down, and yet someone is knocking.  People in this town are really dreadful My girl friend used to like people knocking but that was merely her craziness.”

Then another pound came.

“What use is this hotel if it cannot keep people out?” he said; “I must look for a better room,” and he was determined to be driven away.

But before he had dialed his driver’s number, a third pound came, and he looked up, and saw – Ah! What did he see?

The eyes of the wise old man were filled with fear, and shivers were running down his fragile spine. His face was so shocking in the streetlight that the young man was filled with pity.

“Who are you?” he said.

“I am the wise old man.”

“Why are you pounding on my door then?” asked the young man; “you have quite annoyed me.”

“When I was young and was very rich,” answered the man, “I did not know what poverty was, for I lived in the Beverly Hills, where poverty was not allowed to enter. In the daytime I shopped with my friends in the mall, and in the evening I led the walk of the red carpet. Round the Beverly Hills ran an invisible wall, but I never cared to seek what lay beyond it, everything about me was so elegant. My friends called me the happy man, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure were happiness. So I lived, and so the stocks fell. And now that I am poor they have set me close to the forest where I can see all the cruelty and all the torture they have done to the animals, and though my brain is far too stupid I cannot chose but to seek help.”

“What, is he not that wise after all?” said the young man. He was too polite to yell it out loud.

“Far away,” continued the wise man in a croaky loud voice, “far away in a cave there is an injured leopard. One of the leopards is awake, and I can see him lying on the ground. His face is scratched and bleeding.”    
             “Young man, young man, oh handsome young man,” said the wise man, “will you not stay with me for a while, and be my helper? The cub is young and wrecked, and the mother so helpless.”

“I don’t like animals,” replied the young man. “Last winter, when I was staying in L.A., there were three annoying dogs, the manager’s dogs, who were always chasing me. They never caught me, of course; I was too smart for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its intelligence; but still, it was a sign of disrespect.”

But the wise man looked so helpless that the young man was sorry. “It is very hot here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for a while, and be your helper.”

“Thank God,” said the wise man.

So the young man commanded his men to take the great burger-making machine from the wise man’s magical bag, and drove away with it in his back trunk.

He passed by the jungle, where the deer were being prepared. He passed by cave and heard the sound of eating. A beautiful leopard came out on the balcony with her mate.   “How wonderful the food is,” he said to her, “and how wonderful is the power of love!”

“I hope my deer will be hunted in time for the party,” she answered; “I have ordered five sets of deer; but the hunters are so lazy.”

He passed the main cave and saw the monkeys hanging from the branches of tree. He passed the ghetto and saw the male leopards fighting with each other, trying to get food for their families. At last he came to the wrecked cave and peeked in. The cub was coughing terribly in bed, and the mother had passed out, she was so tired. In he crept, and put the burger-making machine on the floor. The he walked slowly round the bed, and put a bandage on the leopard cub’s paw leg.  “How nice I feel,” said the cub,  “I must be getting Advil,” and he fell fast asleep.

Then the young man drove back to the wise man, and told him what he had done. “It is curious,” he remarked, “but I feel quite warm now, although it is very cold.”

“That is because you have done a good deed,” said the wise man. And the young man began to think, and then his head hurt. Thinking always made his head hurt.

When day broke he drove down to his hotel and had a shower. “What a remarkable thing,” said a girl as she was passing the hotel. “A star!” And she wrote it on Facebook. Every one quoted it, but as it was so poorly written, no one knew what she was talking about.

“To-night I go to U.S.A.,” said the young man, and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the bars, and stayed a long time on top of the skyscrapers. Wherever he went the girls spied, and said to each other, “What a distinguished foreigner!” so he enjoyed himself very much. When the moon rose he drove back to the wise man.

“Have you any friends in U.S.?” he cried; “I am just starting to go.”

“Young man, young man, oh handsome young man,” said the wise man, “will you not stay with me a little longer?”

“I am waited for in US,” answered the young man. “To-morrow my friends will drive to downtown. The addicts sit there among the cops, and in great hotels lay the street racers. All night long they race on the mountains, and when the morning star shines the winner utters one cry of joy for he has won the race. At noon the red-eyed gambler comes by the casinos to gamble. They have money like hair, and their loss is worse than the NCAA’s North Carolina game against Kentucky.”

“Young man, young man, oh handsome young man,” said the wise man, “far away across the seas I see a young wolf in hiding. He is leaning over a tree branch, and in a bush near him are the remains of his tail. His fur is gray and white, and his eyes are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and wishful eyes. He is trying to hide from the hunting guild, but he is too cold to run any more. There is no food nearby, and hunger has made him faint.”

“I will stay with you a little more,” said the young man, who really had a good heart. “Shall I take him another burger-making machine?”

“Alas! I have no burger-making machine now,” said the wise man, “all I have left is my tactical nuke. They are made of TNT, which were brought out of the Manhattan Project years ago. Take one from my magical bag and go. You will call an airstrike on the guild and the wolf will be able to run away.

“Dear wise man,” said the young man, “I cannot do that”; and he began to weep.

“Young man, young man, handsome young man,” said the wise man, “do as I say.”

So the young man took the tactical nuke, and flew away to the wolf. It was easy enough to get to, as there were no clouds in the sky. Through this he dashed, and came close to the wolf. The young wolf had his head buried in the snow, so he did not notice the young man nearby, and when he looked up he saw an amazing sight of a mushroom cloud.

“I am beginning to be appreciated,” he said; “this is due to an animal lover. Now I can run away,” and he looked quite happy.

The next day the young man drove down to the airport. He waited in the limo and watched staff haul big packs of luggage on to the plane. “Hu-Ha!” they shouted as each bag came up. “I am going to Vegas!” cried the young man, but nobody cared, and when the moon rose he drove back to the wise man.

“I have come to bid you good-bye,” he cried.

“Young man, young man, handsome young man,” said the wise man, “will you not stay with me one night longer?”

“It is hot,” answered the young man, “and the heat wave will soon be here. In Egypt the hotel had a/c, and the tenants lie in their bed and watch TV. My companions are building a hotel near the Vegas sign, and the pink and white chicks are watching them, and sitting next to each other. Wise man, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next fall I will bring you back two presents in place of the things you have given away. The burger-making machine shall be a new model and the tactical nuke will be developed with the Pentagon.”

“In the square below,” said the wise man, “there stands a little cat. She has broken her leg when pursued, and is bruised. Her keeper will lock her into her cage if she does not come back, and she is crying. She has no claws or strength, and her little head is bare. Take my satellite controlled GPS that can attach on her leg so she will not be caged.”

“I will stay with you one night longer,” said the young man, “but I cannot take your GPS. You would be quite lost by then.”

“Young man, young man, handsome young man,” said the wise man, “do as I say.”

So he took the GPS from the old man’s magical bag, and drove down with it. He drove past the cat, and dropped the GPS into the palm of her paw. “Meow, Meow, Meow,” cried the little cat; and she ran home, purring.

Then the young man came back to the wise man. “You have nothing now,” he said, “so I will stay with you always.”

“No, young man,” said the poor wise man, “you must go away to the US.”

“I will stay with you always,” said the young man, and he slept near the wise man.

All the next day he sat near the wise man, and told him stories of what he had seen while traveling the world. He told him of the soccer players, who stand in long rows when there is a foul, and shoot balls into goals; of the Eiffel Tower, which is as complicated as the world itself, living in the city, and seeing everything; of the rich, who anxiously wait for their pure gold Mercedes, and wear platinum Hugo Boss watches on their wrists; of the city San Diego, which is as hot as a desert, with waves rough as concrete; of the great green car that rests in a parking lot, and the twenty PepBoys employees to outfit it with new tires; and of the midgets who rode over big hills on small, round bikes and are always at war with the squirrels.

“Dear young man,” said the wise man, “you tell me of interesting things, but more interesting than anything is the suffering of animals. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Drive around my town, young man, and tell me what you see there.”

So the young man drove through the small town, and saw the pets lavished in their expensive beds, while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He drove into dark lanes, and saw the dark faces of rabid dogs looking out listlessly at the black streets. On the branch of a tree two birds were trying to hide from a mad hunter. “How tired we are!” they said. “You must not stay here,” shouted the caretaker of the tree, and they flew out into the rain.

Then he drove back and told the wise man what he had seen.

“I have my hawk,” said the Wise Man, “you must help him off my shoulder, inch by inch, and send him to my poor birds; the living always think that companions can make them happy.”

Inch after inch the young man helped the fine hawk off, till the wise man looked quite old and skinny. Mile after mile the hawk flew to the poor birds, and their faces grew wider, and they laughed and played games in the sky. “We have a protector!” they cried.

Then the heat came, and after the heat came the heat wave. The streets looked as if they were being boiled, they were so bright and hot; long waves of heat were like the steam that came from hot water. Everybody went about in shorts, and the little boys wore Yankee hats and stayed inside with the air conditioning.

The poor young man grew hotter and hotter, but he would not leave the wise man, he loved him too well. He went to CVS to buy medication for his heart problems when the old man was sleeping, and tried to stay in the shade to stay cool.

But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength to go up next to the wise man once more. “Good-bye, dear wise man!” he murmured, “Will you let me kiss your hand?”

“I am glad that you are going to US at last, young man,” said the wise man, “you have stayed too long here; but you must hug me, for I love you.”

“It is not to US that I am going,” said the poor young man. “I am going to the Mansion of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?”

And he hugged the wise man, and fell down dead at his feet.   At that moment a curious scream sounded inside the wise old man, as if something had popped. The fact is that the red heart vein had popped right out. It certainly was a dreadfully intense heat wave.

Early the next morning the old councilman was walking in the square below, in company with the assistants. As they passed the column he looked up at the flat platform. “Dear me! How white the wise man looks!” he said.

“How white indeed!” cried the assistant, who always agreed with the old councilman; and they went up to look at him.

“The burger-making machine is gone, his hawk is gone, and he is stacked with gadgets no longer,” said the old councilman. “In fact, he is little better than a beggar!”

“Little better than a beggar,” said an assistant.

“And here is actually a dead man at his feet!” continued the old councilman. “We must really issue a proclamation that men are not to be allowed to die here.” And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.

So they took away the wise man, “As he is no longer wise and he is no longer useful,” said the Art Professor at the University.

Then they burned the body at the fire, and the old councilman held a meeting with the temple priest to decide what was to be done with body. “We must have a wise man, of course,” he said, “and it shall be myself.”

“No, it shall be myself,” said assistants, and they quarreled. When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.

“What a strange thing!” said the priest. “This old heart will not burn, it must be buried.” So they buried it in the dust heap where the poor young man was also lying.

 

***

 

“Bring me the two most precious things in the city,” said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the unburnable heart and the poor young man’s body.

“You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for in my garden of Paradise this young man shall help me forever more, and in my city of gold the wise man shall advise me.”

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