Long Odds

As the day of reckoning neared, I sat in my palace of safety, contemplating our survival and the best way to prolong it.

Lately, my kingdom had fallen under attack, my subjects disappearing as leaves in the wind. A violent storm would pick up, and the wind, with hurricane force, would tear my trusted citizens from their homes and families.

My advisor arrived at my side as if by magic. “Sir, the great beast has attacked our eastern borders. We lost 13 more loyal subjects.”

“And what was the reported cause of their disappearances?”

“Rumour is that the great beast Oomba was seen in the east.” He said, his voice betraying his trepidation.

Oomba was a sleek creature, his skin glistening black.The wind he produced came with a horrifying shriek, and it was devastatingly effective. In his mouth, were rows of revolving bristle-like teeth, pulling in his prey. He attacked without warning and completely indiscriminately. He took the old and young, weak and strong alike. He had no known enemies and there was no evidence of any weaknesses. Many had tried, but none had ever overcome his merciless ferocity.

I thanked my advisor, and he glided away as quickly as he had appeared. I was left in my thoughts. I had not yet come up with a strategy that would effectively vanquish the great enemy. He always struck on the same day, but the location varied. One day, it would be the south border, and next, it could be the west border.

I longed to protect the kingdom of which I had become the leader. But no obvious way had yet occurred to me. As the great kings of old had risen and fallen, so it seemed, I too, was destined to rise and fall unless somehow I could keep the realm safe.

I had not yet seen the great beast, but the tremendous burden of leadership fell on me. And as the leader, I should be on the great battlefield, where heroes were forged and great kings established. So it is to be, I would go out to the great plains on which the beast roamed, and I would have a great battle and try to find victory, not for the glory, but rather for the safety of my kingdom.

As the days wore on, the great day of reckoning loomed. I planned and prepared myself for the significant undertaking. I assembled my loyal troops and prepared to lead them into battle.

The plains were a desolate area of random debris that appeared from the heavens. As I looked out over the vast area and wondered to myself. “Why would I risk myself for this lowly kingdom?” Not knowing the reason, yet feeling convicted, I proceeded on with the plan.

It was the night before the great day of battle; we sat there in complete silence. They all looked to me to show bravery and I would not fail them. “Tomorrow we shall meet our foe on the great plain of desolation and we will overcome.” As they cheered, I continued. “We will not fall prey to our fears! We will not give in! We will fight to the last! For kingdom and for family!”

“For kingdom and for family!” They all shouted eagerly.

“Now take your rest. Tomorrow, we end the scourge that has plagued us for so long.”

Rest did not come easily that night. The emotions ran high and so did the worry. “What would become of my family if I fell in battle; what would come of the kingdom?” These were the thoughts that sent me off to a shallow slumber of dreams that would elude memory the next morning.

As the bright morning dawned, my men and I stood on the empty plain. All lined up and ready to engage the foe in combat to the death. There was a movement across the great plain. “Prepare yourselves, for our foe is at hand!” The troops, to their credit, stood firm. My anxiety fell away to a preternatural readiness. I was prepared for anything.

As the great beast Oomba neared, we felt the vibration as his screech became deafening. “Hold fast!” I called out. But yet as we stood our ground, the great wind picked up. Now or never; I thought to myself.

“To the death!” I shouted and so we advanced on the villain. But as we neared, the violent wind picked up. My troops were getting caught up in the wind, and were being drawn into the beast's mouth as though they weighed nothing. As I was seeing this unfold, I felt the vicious wind, like a fierce hurricane, clawing at me, drawing me closer…ever closer…to the beast's mouth and its unearthly shriek. Being drawn to its massive mouth, I fought with all my strength against the wind, but to no avail. I was pulled into the great beast's mouth.

Sara Macarthur was a woman of cleanliness; she would not tolerate dust or anything else that would violate her place of residence. She toiled the whole day, every Saturday. She dusted and wiped, washed and polished. But nothing gave her joy like vacuuming. She pulled her vacuum out of the closet and started cleaning her nearly spotless floors.

As she was nearing completion, there was one room left. The bedroom, with its hard-to-reach corners, had dressers that were two inches off the floor, closets with shelves, and a bed frame that a less finicky woman wouldn't have tidied under more than once a year. But today she would overcome the challenge of the dressers, the nightstands, and the typically forgotten space under the bed. As she reached the last corner, she paused. There was a large dust bunny that must have been blown out from a faraway corner. As she examined this intrusion into her immaculate house, she saw what looked like a little army of miniature dust bunnies, all positioned as if ready for some kind of battle. She smiled as she turned on the vacuum cleaner and sucked up the whole lot. I will not stand for dust bunnies in my house, she thought.