prolifeproliberty:

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

– An Alternate Tale

In a village in the valley there was a shepherd boy. The village was peaceful, and the boy’s job was mostly to keep the sheep from wandering too far. He kept them in a meadow surrounded by dense forest.

One day, the boy found some tracks near the edge of the meadow. Wolf tracks. He called the village leaders.

“Oh what are you worried about? These tracks are old. Maybe there was a wolf here weeks ago, but there isn’t one now.”

The boy was puzzled. “If there was a wolf weeks ago, couldn’t it still be around?”

The leaders shrugged. “I suppose, but you don’t need to be so worried all the time. It’s a beautiful day, just relax. If you see some fresh tracks let us know.”

The leaders left. The boy went back to the meadow, but couldn’t relax at all. He was vigilant now – every rustle in the leaves made him jump, but he knew he couldn’t call for help again unless he had evidence.

From then on he paced the edge of the meadow each morning to check for tracks. He carried his slingshot at the ready. One day he found them – a set of fresh tracks, and what looked and smelled like wolf droppings. He called the leaders again.

They came, looked at the tracks, and murmured to each other. Finally they spoke.

“This is a bit more concerning, but did you actually see a wolf?”

“No, I didn’t, but you said to call if I saw fresh tracks.”

“Yes, yes, but you haven’t seen a wolf, have you?”

The boy sighed. “No, I haven’t. But one has been here recently.”

“Possibly.”

“What do you mean? The tracks are right there!”

“Well we don’t know for sure those are wolf tracks unless we actually see a wolf. Besides, it could have been here last night and since moved on. And anyway, you have your slingshot. You can handle a small wolf, right?”

“I suppose, but wolves rarely hunt alone.”

The leaders laughed. “This boy is obsessed with wolves! Not only has he not seen any, but from one set of tracks he now thinks the forest is teeming with vicious wolves, ready to devour at any time! Even if there are wolves, they rarely leave the forest, and they certainly don’t come near people if they can help it.”

They left the boy in the meadow with his sheep. Now not only did he pace the meadow in the morning, but he made another circuit at noon and before bringing the sheep in at night. He even slept in the barn with the sheep.

The people of the village whispered behind his back, but not so quietly that he didn’t hear. They thought he was paranoid, that he’d lost it.

“Sure, maybe there’s wolves deep in the woods,” they said, “but it’s not like they would come into town! Could they even open the barn door?”

One day, a sheep wandered from the flock into the woods. The boy chased after the sheep, but it was too far ahead and the woods were thick. He heard a snarl, bleating, and then silence.

The boy turned and fled back to the flock and brought them all back to town.

The village leaders came to see the commotion.

“A wolf ate one of the sheep!” the boy cried.

The leaders rolled their eyes. “Did you see it this time?”

The boy was trembling with anger. “I heard the snarls, I heard the sheep cry out. It got away from me in the woods!”

The leaders looked at each other, murmuring, worried.

“He’s hearing things now,” one of them whispered.

“Count your flock, make sure you have them all. Maybe you just got confused.”

The boy scoffed, turned, and led his sheep to the barn. He went in and fashioned himself a crude crossbow, and kept the sheep inside the rest of the day and all through the night. He kept watch, sleeping only lightly.

The next morning he brought the sheep back to the meadow. He was tired and anxious. His hands gripped the crossbow. He watched the tree line. He knew he was alone. No help was coming.

Suddenly, movement at the edge of the forest. He aimed his crossbow and fired at a shadowy shape.

He heard a yelp – a girl’s yelp. A human yelp.

The girl came running into the meadow. She seemed unharmed but frightened.

“You nearly killed me!” she cried. Before the boy could explain, she turned and fled toward the town.

The leaders came out shortly after.

“Now son, we know you’ve been on edge. This job must be taking a toll on you. But that girl could have been hurt, or killed. What are you doing with a crossbow?”

The boy grumbled. “There are wolves in the woods. Nobody should be wandering there.”

“Well a walk in the woods is hardly a crime. She certainly didn’t deserve to be shot for it!”

Another leader stepped forward. “Boy, we’re just worried about you. We don’t want anyone to get hurt. So we’re just going to hold on to your slingshot and your crossbow until we decide you’re back to your old self.”

Before the boy could protest, the leaders snatched the bow from his hands and the slingshot from his belt. They swiftly turned and left him alone and unarmed.

Once the leaders were out of sight, the boy heard the snarling of the wolves. He knew there was no way to protect the sheep now. So he made loud noises, clapped, and yelled, scattering the sheep in every direction. He himself ran the opposite direction from the town, deep into the woods.

That evening, the leaders went up to the meadow when they didn’t see the boy come down. They found it empty.

“Oh dear. That boy truly was ill, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, so sad. And he took the sheep with him too. The Johnsons won’t be happy about that. But I suppose we can make do, help them out a bit. They’ll need a new flock and a new shepherd, after all.”

As the villagers went to bed, murmuring to each other about the strange mad shepherd boy who cried wolf, none of them thought to look up to the trees on the hills that surrounded them.

If they had, maybe one would have noticed pairs of yellow eyes glinting in the moonlight.