The Rich Man and The Sea in Flash Friday

Prompt from 11/29/13: Write a flash in a fairy tale setting

Once upon a time there lived a very rich man who lived in a very fine castle. The rich man, however, did not build the castle. The rich man’s father did not build the castle and neither did the rich man’s grandfather.

A long, long time ago, before there was a sea, the rich man’s great grandfather cut down the trees and built a house. When the great grandfather died, he gave the house to his son, the rich man’s grandfather. When the grandfather was able, he built more rooms on the house so that the house became a mansion. When the grandfather died, he gave the mansion to his son, the rich man’s father. When the father was able, he built more rooms on the mansion so that the mansion became a castle. When the father died, he gave the castle to his son, the rich man.

Because there were no more trees for adding to the house, the rich man did not build like his father, and his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father had done. But the castle was big and it required a lot of effort to keep the castle in good repair.

“I work very hard to keep the castle,” the rich man often said. “I work hard for what is mine and what is mine is mine. Those who have nothing deserve nothing.”

Around the castle where the rich man lived were fields full of crops. The rich man, however, did not clear the land for farming. The rich man’s father did not clear the land and neither did the rich man’s grandfather.

A long, long time ago, before there was a sea, the rich man’s great grandfather cleared some land and planted crops to have enough food to last through the winter. When the great grandfather died, he gave the land to his son, the rich man’s grandfather. When the grandfather was able, he cleared more land and planted more crops to have enough food to last through spring. When the grandfather died, he gave the land to his son, the rich man’s father. When the father was able, he cleared more land and planted more crops to have enough food to last through summer. When the father died, he gave the land to his son, the rich man.

Because there was no more land to grow any more crops, the rich man did not clear the land like his father, and his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father had done. But the farm was big and it required a lot of effort to grow and harvest and store the crops.

“I work very hard to keep the farm,” the rich man often said. “I work hard for what is mine and what is mine is mine. Those who have nothing deserve nothing.”

Surrounding the fields around the castle where the rich man lived was a sturdy wall of stone. The rich man, however, did not build the wall. The rich man’s father did not build the wall and neither did the rich man’s grandfather.

A long, long time ago, before there was a sea, the rich man’s great grandfather built a wall of stone as tall as a child to drive away the rabbits that ate the crops before the harvest was sown. When the great grandfather died, he gave the wall to his son, the rich man’s grandfather. When the grandfather was able, he added to the wall of stone until it was as tall as an adult to drive away the rabbits that ate the crops before the harvest was sown. When the grandfather died, he gave the wall to his son, the rich man’s father. When the father was able, he added to the wall of stone until it was taller than an adult to drive away the rabbits that ate the crops before the harvest was sown. When the father died, he gave the wall to his son, the rich man.

Because there was no more stone, the rich man did not add to the wall like his father, and his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father had done. But the wall was big and it required a lot of effort to keep the wall in good repair.

“I work very hard to keep the wall,” the rich man often said. “I work hard for what is mine and what is mine is mine. Those who have nothing deserve nothing.”

One day an old woman from a nearby village on the hill went to the castle where the rich man lived.

“In the village on the hill the people work hard to keep their homes and tend their fields and repair their fences,” the old woman said, “but none are as fortunate as you. Each family in the village gives a portion of what is theirs so that when times are lean, all will have some and none will do without. Will you give a portion of what is yours so that when times are lean none will do without?”

“I see your trickery, old crone,” the rich man said. “You want me to give a portion of what is mine so that others will have without doing their own work. I work hard for what is mine and what is mine is mine. Those who have nothing deserve nothing.”

“No, you are mistaken,” the old woman insisted. “Everyone provides for himself when times are good, and each enjoys his own, but everyone provides for everyone else when times are bad so no one suffers alone. Will you give a portion of what is yours so that when times are lean none will do without?”

“Be gone, old crone,” the rich man cried. “I work hard for what is mine and what is mine is mine. Those who have nothing deserve nothing.”

The rich man gave nothing that was his to the village but everyone in the village gave some of what was theirs while the times were good. For many years everyone provided for himself and each enjoyed the fruits of his own labor, however sweet or sour those fruits may have been.

Then one year the bad winter came. The winds blew and the snows fell and the sun was rarely seen. Fences went unrepaired and fields remained fallow and houses barely stood against storms so fierce that not even the oldest person in the village could remember such an onslaught.

When those with the least had nothing left, they were given some of what was in store. And when those with a little more had nothing left, they were given some of what was in store. And when those with the most had nothing left, they were given some of what was in store. No one had a lot, but everyone had some and no one did without.

When the rich man had nothing left, he went to the village to see what he could get.

“My wall has fallen and my fields are barren and my castle no longer stands,” the rich man cried to the old woman of the village. “I worked hard for what was mine, but what was mine is gone. You must give me some of what you have so that I do not do without.”

“We have nothing for you,” the old woman said. “When times were good I asked you to give some of what you had, but you had nothing you would give. Those who give nothing deserve nothing. We worked hard for what is ours and what is ours is ours. We all shared what we all had and now there’s nothing left to spare.”

The rich man returned to the land where his castle once stood and cried for as long as the snows fell. When the snow from the hills melted the water flooded the valley and the rich man drowned in sorrow.

There was no longer a stone wall. There was no longer a crop growing in the field. And there was no longer a castle.

But today there is a sea and the sea is salty because of the rich man’s tears.

New Prompts: seam, rugged, consider