THE SOLDIER'S TALE
A MODERN ADAPTATION OF THE KNIGHT'S TALE FROM CHAUCER'S
CANTERBURY TALES
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Once two friends were sitting at a
bar, The woman who
would bring him only good.Thinking there was nothing that could mar Their friendship or engender enmity. But they were wrong, as shortly you will see. These two were both fine soldiers, none was better, And both could follow orders to the letter, Even into rivers of hot lead. One was Tod, the other one was Ted. They were childhood friends from a small town, And on the day they doffed their cap and gown, Both enlisted, neither would say nay, For if one went, the other would not stay. Together in Iraq they served a tour, And then another, surer now than sure That after each had saved the other's life, No lover could divide them, nor no wife. But at that bar there was a girl so hot That both these friends were smitten on the spot. Her long blond hair went down below her waist, And breasts, half showing, begged for just a taste. She wore a sweater open to the cleft And a short, tight skirt. Whatever there was left To see of her was bursting through her clothes. And her name, appropriately, was Rose. "The Yellow Rose of Texas," Tod exclaimed, But she was a Virginia girl, she claimed, Like them, small town, and just their age to boot. As they talked, the friends stared at her fruit, Each imagining that she was his Exclusively, so fragile friendship is, And wished the other vanished, gone, kaput! Two young and healthy specimens in rut. There was, however, no way one could lose The other, nor could Rose at that point choose Which one she wanted, and so soon all three Were often in each other's company, Hanging out or going here or there, As near inseparable as any pair. Eventually, each male wanted more, And there was undeclared a silent war Between the former friends for Rose's love, As both looked hungrily at every move She made, and melted at the thought Of savoring at last the joys he sought. One day Tod couldn't stand it anymore And asked Ted, "What are we pretending for? I want Rose for myself, and so do you. Let's tell Rose and see what she will do!" "True enough!" said Ted. "And I agree It should be Rose who tells us who will be Her lover, who should stay and who should go, If it be either one of us. We know She likes us, but perhaps only as friends, While what I feel for her each moment rends Me into bloody rags! I cannot sleep Or eat for want of her! Instead, I keep Her face in front of me and dream she's mine. But I can't make a move when all the time You're with us like a constant chaperone Who'll never leave the two of us alone!" "Alone?" Tod raged indignantly. "Alone? I'd rather smash your head in with a stone Than let you touch what's mine by right of love, The greatest that has ever mortal moved, I have no doubt -- I feel it in my heart, That every day is freshly torn apart, And torn apart again, and then again, Each time I think of her with other men!" And so the two agreed to leave to Rose Which one gets to stay and which one goes. But Rose was not so ready to agree To choose which of the two contestants she Would want to keep and which she'd throw away. "I love you both!" she weeping said. But they Insisted that she choose one or the other. She would, she said, keep one just for a brother, The other for a lover all her life, And thus be both a sister and a wife. But they were adamant that they would not Accept less than the most desired spot, And if not chosen, then would disappear, For less than all was more than they could bear. And so at last she said she would decide Which of them she'd spend her life beside When they came back from their next tour. For why, She asked, choose now? She did not want to lie, But told them that she feared what might transpire In war, and that revealing her desire Now might lose the love of the survivor, Whose passionate return might well revive her. Angry and dissatisfied, these two Former friends bade their love adieu, And soon were shipped out to Afghanistan To fight the now resurgent Taliban. Secretly each wished the other would Not return, for then for sure he could Enjoy the lifelong love of his sweet Rose. Still, however hid, such feeling shows. The two just barely spoke, and only when Their duties forced them to, for they were then Engaged in firefights both day and night, And they, good soldiers both, did what was right. They couldn't help but think, though, what might happen If one were at the other's back. For passion Sometimes overrules the god of war And lets a rival rival be no more. Both equally were knave and victim here, Touched by the temptation and the fear. One night, as they awaited the next day, Knowing the anticipated fray Would be the fiercest they had ever seen, Both prayed to God to save them, and redeem Their lives now sunk so deeply in despair, For there was ample cause for sadness there. Tod prayed for courage, and the strength to do Whatever God might ask of him. And, too, That his company might win the fight And crush the enemy, for then he might Return to his sweet Rose victoriously And leave Afghanistan at peace and free. Ted prayed for love, that it his heart might seize And end the hatred in him by degrees, So that cleansed he could return to Rose. For each may harvest only seed he sows, And if he would enjoy the fruits of love, Then that must be alone what his heart moves. He felt regret for many things he'd done, The enemies destroyed, the battles won, Yet not one inch of ground yet gained towards peace, For in the heart is where all wars must cease. Two prayers to God, of opposite import, Yet both would find the answers that they sought. At dawn the company moved out, with Ted Leading the platoon that went ahead To reconnoiter where the enemy By best intelligence was thought to be. Ted was lost, of course, in thoughts of Rose, Mentally removing all her clothes, When suddenly they started taking fire, Undoing in an instant all desire. Soon they were surrounded and could see Nothing but the vaunted enemy Firing non-stop as they took cover, Each providing succor for the other. Some were wounded, some already dead. Now we switch to Tod, forsaking Ted. Tod from a distance heard the battle rage And lickety-split appeared on center stage, Racing towards the battle carbine blazing, Hoping that the hell that he was raising Might distract the ambushers enough To think that this was real and not a bluff. And so it happened: the Taliban withdrew As Tod's platoon came racing into view, Recklessly exposed to enemy fire Like seraphim descending in a choir, As though the vanguard of a mighty host About to turn its enemies to toast. But just one Taliban, before he fled, Turned to fire not five feet from Ted, Who threw himself upon him, but too late To save Tod from his self-appointed fate. The bullet went right through Tod's head and came Back out behind with pieces of his brain. "Oh, no!" cried Ted. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" But nothing that he said made it not so. The Taliban was knocked cold to the ground, And in a rage Ted almost fired a round Right into him, to shred him into bits, As one might who relieved himself in fits, But then restrained himself, for one ought not Revenge a wrong while anger is still hot, Nor take a life to satisfy some pain That then will doubtless come around again, And then again, like ripples in a pond. For every evil echoes far beyond What you or I can see, and stirs the air In ways that stoke the anger everywhere. Ted secured his prisoner, then turned To give his bloody friend the kiss he'd earned, Holding him and rocking back and forth Until he was at length no longer wroth, And sorrow like an evening darkness filled His heart completely, now his friend was killed. He had no thought of Rose, not even one, And when his tour in hell was finally done, He came back home to work upon a farm, His only hope: to do no further harm, But peacefully to live upon the land. One day in town he heard a big brass band Come thumping down the street, and followed it Into the square, so full he barely fit Against the storefronts lining the far side. There upon the podium he spied Tod's mother and Tod's portrait on a screen. Ted wondered what this pageantry might mean Until he saw the President hang upon her The prize that was the nation's highest honor. Then followed praises of Tod's bravery, How he saved his desperate company By leading his platoon into the fire. There was no sacrifice or calling higher. And so on and so forth till the band again Struck up its loud and soporific strain, And soon the square was empty save for Ted And Rose, who came across to him and said, "I knew I'd find you here! Now tell me why You never got in touch with me. Don't lie, Please, for the truth is all I want. I see A much-tormented soul in front of me." Ted couldn't speak, but wept, and turned to go. Said Rose, "You have no right to treat me so! I loved you long and would have married you. Now just a bit of truth will have to do." "The truth," Ted said, "is that I am no more. When Tod died, so did I in this sad war. For he died saving me, while all I thought Was how his death might bring me what I sought, Which was you, your body and your love, While naught but selfish hate did in me move. "And when I spared the life of him who shot My friend, I felt some inner well-knit knot Become undone, and all that was came flooding Into me, the hating and the loving, The bliss and bloody massacre, the murder Holy -- lying, honesty, trickery, candor Equally holy -- and I was holy, too. Nothing mattered. Everything was true. I wanted, needed, wished for nothing more Than peace within, the antidote for war." "You are my Ted," said Rose, "both good and bad. The problem simply is that you are sad And feeling guilty for what you have done. But please believe me, Ted, that anyone Might well desire a friend to disappear Or wish a rival dead. But now you're here And he just isn't anymore, not missing Life and love, the sweet intent of kissing, The fatherhood, the praise, the celebrations, The memories, the pain, the altercations -- All, all to him is nothing, nothing at all, As he is merely now what we recall. "Death is the conclusion of the movie, After which the passion and the fury, The courage, cowardice, the shame, the meaning, The love, the hunger, sacrifice, and seeming -- All is over, finished, done, complete. Nor does one player get to keep his seat Once it's over, lingering in the theater, But everything there is has no hereafter. "Tod is just a story we remember, Nothing more to him or us. You render Him no service in your grief, nor do You serve the soul of anyone but you. Grief is but a stage; its time is past. Time to enter life again at last, To live robustly, loving long and well The family that will save you from this hell. "Now turn to me, and I will be your wife, Your lover and your friend for all your life, And heal you, so that you may once again Make joy the sweet companion of your pain." Upon these words Ted came to life, as though Some angel, just descended, bade him go Back to the world to love, as well he would, The universe receded into two, And universal love to passion due. Soon they were wed, and so I end my story. Ted has got his love, and Tod his glory: Each what he most sought, for fate is will, As inner gods arrange our fortunes still. |