The Sentry and the Sunbathers

Never trust those turtles

The White Goose stood tall on a rock at the top of The Falls, the only flat rock protruding from the water. Today it was his rock and his alone.

The Old Green Turtle climbed onto the rock.

“Hey you up there. I’m down here,” the Old Green Turtle said.

The sound surprised the White Goose and he looked down and said, “What is it you want, Old Green Turtle? Stop bothering me for I am watching out for you.”

“Whatever do you mean, White Goose. Watching out for me? Our Creator looks after us without your help. He gave us a hard shell, the ability to go into the water for a long time, and we can just disappear into our shells at the first sign of danger. We are well protected without your help, Mr. White Goose.”

“But you’re only a slow Old Green Turtle. And powerless. Stop bothering me. I’m helping you. Can’t you see that?”

The Old Green Turtle said, “You are on my rock, White Goose. It is where I and many of my friends and relatives sunbathe. We take turns climbing up here to worship our Creator and bask in His glorious sunshine.”

“I will agree that it is the perfect place to enjoy the sun. It is but one of the reasons I’m here. That, and to protect you. And what will you do if I fail to leave this lovely rock of yours?”

The Old Green Turtle was silent for a minute and said, “One command and I will summons a thousand of my kind to make their way here. Big, small, and everything in between. What happens after they begin arriving, I cannot tell you because I do not know for sure myself. But know this, it will not be good, and you will not be able to say I didn’t warn you.”

The White Goose looked out over the shallow and calm water in front of The Falls.

He said, “And what is this command of yours that will summons these turtles as you say, for I do not see a single turtle within a mile of here? Maybe five miles. My eyes are ever so keen.”

“Just because you have keen eyes, doesn’t mean we are not there.”

The White Goose stood tall once again, proud that he had made his point.

“Let’s fly!” Old Green Turtle shouted.

“Let’s fly? That’s funny,” White Goose said. “Turtles can’t fly. They can barely swim or walk, but fly? This must be an unfunny joke you tell.”

The Old Green Turtle said nothing but slowly turned around to face the still waters. The tiny splashes were imperceptible at first. But as the White Goose kept watching the water banks, the splashes were becoming hard not to notice, not the splash themselves, but the sheer number of them.

“You can still fly away, White Goose, while you still can. I can give another command to halt the first wave. Choice is still yours. I do not know what will happen, but it will not be good for you. And I have no idea what will happen in Wave 2. Last chance, Mr. White Goose.”

The White Goose continued to watch the tiny splashes along the shoreline, and the volume increased.

“Good bye, Old Green Turtle,” the White Goose said, lifting off from the flat rock. “It is not my fault you are stubborn and ungrateful.”

As he watched the White Goose fly away, the Old Green Turtle turned to the turtles dropping into the water and yelled, ‘Lilypad delight!”

The banks of Falls began to empty faster. Instead of dozens of turtle splashes per second, now there were hundreds. Hundreds.

“Oh dear,” the Old Green Turtle said. “Wrong phrase. Now, what was that halting command again?”