There beMonsters!

A Tom Weston Story

“There be Monsters!”

How often had I heard that refrain? From when I was a child, until today, of all

days. We were preparing to leave the village; the four of us. It was a journey I

had wanted to make for as long as I could remember. But there were always the

doubters, the nay-sayers, the set-in-their-ways.

Don’t get me wrong! The village is beautiful, nestled as it is in a little picturesque

valley, with the cascading waterfall, and the majestic mountain as a backdrop;

beautiful and peaceful, but, for me, deadly dull.

It was the mountain that drew us. All my life I had lived in the valley and looked

up to its peaks, and wondered what the view from the top was like. I knew that

one day I would climb it, monsters notwithstanding.

I knew that Ron, Billy, and George felt the same way as I did. Or at least I

thought I knew. So we had a farewell drink with friends and family, and off we

set.

After a leisurely stroll through the foothills of the mountain, we made camp for

the night. We built a small fire to keep away the monsters, and sat around it, and

shared stories of ambition and home and lost loves.

“Fellas,” said Ron. “I can’t do this. I’m homesick. I want to go home.”

Well this was not much of a surprise to us really, for Ron was always the

sentimental one. We understood that we couldn’t talk him out of it, so in the

morning we broke camp and said our goodbyes, and waved as Ron took the path

back to the village.

Later that day, we arrived at a little Inn on the highway. Pretty as a

picture; and the Inn-keeper’s daughter was even prettier. With

such delights it was hard to tear ourselves away, and so we didn’t.

We got rooms for the night and ate a hearty dinner, and drank some fine ale, and

had happy conversations with the Inn-keeper, his daughter, and the locals, all of

them eccentric and entertaining. We told them of our plan to climb the mountain,

and see the view from the top. They went silent and shook their heads in unison.

“You should not go that way,” warned the Inn-keeper. “There be Monsters!”

Billy, George and I set out early next day, but I swear the sun was not yet at its

zenith before Billy called us to a halt.

“Guys,” said Billy. “If you go on, you go without me; but I am going back to the

Inn. For the Inn-keeper’s daughter is the most beautiful creature I have ever

beheld, and I have fallen in love.”

There was no arguing with him. That Billy was always the romantic one. George

and I wished him luck with his courting.

We pressed on, George and I, and eventually we arrived at a farm house. As it was

now getting late again, we took our chances that the Farmer would be hospitable

and furnish us with some bread to eat, and some straw to sleep on.

“I hope he doesn’t have a daughter for you to fall in love with,” I teased George.

The Farmer had no such daughter. He told us that he once had a son, but the son

had recently died after a tumble from a horse. The Farmer was most distraught; for

it was harvest time, and without his son’s help he feared that he would not be able

to manage.

The next morning the Farmer treated us to a great big breakfast of thick smoked

bacon and freshly laid eggs. That was when George told me.

“I’m not going on,” he said. “The Farmer has been good to us. I’m going to return

the compliment and help him with his harvest.”

George was always the considerate one.

It passed through my mind that if I was to continue now, it would be alone. But I

wanted to see the view from the top of the mountain, and I knew that if I didn’t

go now I probably never would. I had to press on. I said goodbye to George.

“Take care,” said the Farmer. “There be Monsters!”

So alone I went. The path became steeper. The tree line fell below me. But on I

went until the walk became a climb. On I went, up into the cloud shrouded

mountain.

Imagine my surprise when, emerging from the clouds, I saw a castle:

white-stoned and turreted, like the ones in the fairytales. I was approached by two

guards, who assured me that they were not arresting me but escorting me to the

King; for I was the first villager to climb the mountain, and the King desired to

hear of my journey.

So I was brought before the King. He was a mighty sovereign; Lord of all he

surveyed, which included the valley below and my little village. He was rich and

powerful, and had armies to command, and would never want for anything.

“Why have you come?” asked the King.

“I wanted to see the view from the top of the mountain,” I replied.

“Ha, that is ironic,” cried the King. “For all my power and riches, I have never

left my castle. I was born here and I will die here. How I have longed to go down

to the valley and see what the view is like from there.”

“Why have you not gone down?” I asked.

“There be Monsters!” he replied.

THERE BE MONSTERS! Copyright © 2009 by Tom Weston.

All Rights Reserved. www.tom-weston.com.

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