Once upon a time in the village of Wishyouwell there lived a crabby old woman called Ears-A-Plenty. She was called Ears-A-Plenty because it was true, she did have more ears than the average two or three that we might have nowadays. Yes, she even wore the extra ears, sprouting from the top of her head, gathered up with a velvet ribbon like a bouquet of posies.
Ears-A-Plenty was a shopkeeper, the best shopkeeper for miles around. Each morning, smells of coffee and buttered toast wafted on the breeze, gathering customers to her. Once inside the place, depending on the aisle, her shop smelled of cinnamon and licorice, or lavender and rose, or lanolin and beeswax. It was the customers’ noses that brought them into her shop, and found the aisle, but once they were inside the shop it was her ears that kept them.
Ears-A-Plenty didn’t just have the regular ears that you have, that hear what I am telling you right this moment, or the irregular ear that you might have, that can hear what your mother has told you twenty times before now and yet you still don’t heed. No, Ears-A-Plenty had special ears that could hear what no one else could. She had an ear that could hear what happened yesterday and she had an ear that could hear what would happen tomorrow. She could hear what others were saying that they did not want her to hear, and she could hear what would never be said.
“My goodness, that comb looks right charmin’ in your glossy hair,” she would say to a lady, because she could hear the woman had been invited yesterday to a fancy-dress ball. Or she might say, “Jack, better buy another pencil in case you lose the first,” to the carpenter’s apprentice because she could hear the young man’s pencil falling tomorrow, just as he needed to mark a measurement.
One day a boy came to the village of Wishyouwell. He came right to her shop. He was small and tired and filthy. You know how they say, “Keep an eye on that one?” Well, Ears-A-Plenty assigned one ear just to pay close attention to this little runt all day. She thought she might hear him beg from one of her customers. Or, worse, she figured she might hear rustle-rustle-rustle when the boy got close to the money box. But do you know what she heard from the boy?
Way at the back of the store a woman customer paused to look at a bolt of fabric. It was pretty but that woman didn’t think she should spend any money on herself. The boy said, “Why, that’s just like my mother’s favorite blouse. Whenever she wore it, I knew she was happy.” And the woman decided to buy the fabric to let her family know they made her joyful.
In the front of the store, a man couldn’t decide which candy to buy for his daughter’s birthday. The boy said, “Why don’t you get one of each? A birthday present is better if it can be shared among friends.” And so the man did.
At end of the day, when it came time to close the shop, the boy came and looked at her with his big dark eyes. He whispered, “Miss, could I stay here for a day or two? I promise I will help sweep the floors and tend the fire,” and she found she could not say no.
The boy stayed and stayed. His name was Harold. He was a fine one in the shop because, although he only had the two ears, he used them exceedingly well. He listened to what Ears-A-Plenty told him, about how to count the coins carefully, and tie the parcels tightly, but more importantly, he listened to what the village people told him and then helped them find the buttons they needed or the nails they’d run out of.
“New clerk at the shop. I can’t believe he puts up with her,” the townspeople said to one another (and Ears-A-Plenty heard, through her ear for village gossip).
Harold kept the shop tidy and did not take up much room because he rolled out his straw pallet at night and then rolled it up again each day. He never stared at the ears sprouting from the top of her head and tied up like a bouquet. Or, if he did stare a little, he only did it to make sure that her ears weren’t getting sunburned on sunny days or choked up with water on rainy days.
On Sundays when the shop was closed, Harold would run out and play for hours with the other children, but he always was back for supper, when Ears-A-Plenty gave him a piece of meat in his soup. (She had one in her soup, and this seemed fair.) On slow days she sometimes heard him sing:
“Hey diddle hey diddle hey ding
Who can tell what the future will bring?”
That was about the only thing she didn’t like about the boy, because when you have ears a-plenty, and no television, a little tune like that going around in your head for hours can drive you crazy.
As Harold got older, he became even more helpful because he could lift heavy crates and roll heavy barrels. More of the village girls and youths would drop by and, giggling, they would get his opinion on thickness of fry pan or quality of broom.
On Sundays Harold began to walk to the next village. Ears-A-Plenty heard about this first from the ear that could hear at a distance. Every Sunday a master teacher installed himself at the next village and would preach to anyone who would listen. And listen Harold did.
One day Ears-A-Plenty heard the strangest wee clear sound. It was like the whistle of a boiling kettle, except instead of one note it was a tune.
Ears-A-Plenty went directly to the source, and there was Harold, carefully packing up his one extra set of clothes, his three pairs of socks, a flint, a knife, and his straw pallet. He was whistling as he worked.
There was a solemn knock at the door. Ears-A-Plenty knew immediately it was the master teacher from one village over, who had come to collect his disciple.
“I must leave you now, Miss,” said Harold.
“But who will lift the crates and sweep the floors?” asked Ears-A-Plenty.
“There are many good children in this village. You can find someone and train them well.” And sure enough, she could hear the excited voices of children in the street.
“Are you coming?” asked the voice at the door.
“But wait… how will you live?” Ears-A-Plenty asked. Her ear that could hear at a distance heard only chanting for the master teacher, not for Harold.
“By the luck of the day,” said Harold.
With her ear that was tuned to the past, Ears-A-Plenty replayed the conversation they had had when she first decided to let him stay.
“But that’s no future for him,” she cried to the master teacher, who by now was inside the shop. But her ear that could hear what would never be said heard wedding vows, and at that moment she knew the boy would always live as a monk.
The master teacher smiled and took the hands of Ears-A-Plenty in his. “This young man has a higher calling.”
Ears-A-Plenty quickly looked from him to Harold and back again. The ear that heard hopes could only hear prayers, and the ear that hears mistakes heard the king ordering the master teacher and his disciples all to be thrown in jail.
“That’s not fair!” she gasped, but of course neither man understood.
In the end, Ears-A-Plenty had to let Harold go.
A month after he left she realized she rather liked the extra space and quiet. On Sundays she put both pieces of meat in her soup. She was glad not to have the boy’s mundane chatter and his little noises cluttering up her ears, especially not that stupid little song:
“Hey diddle hey diddle hey ding
Who can tell what the future will bring?”
* * *
Oh no, there it was again! The earworm would be rattling around in her head for the rest of the day. At night everything grew cold and silent again. But it was not the comforting silence, like it used to be. Sometimes the ear that hears village gossip would hear the neighbors say, “Ears-A-Plenty has lost the only good clerk she had.” Sometimes the ear that hears the past would hear the boy saying “Thank you for another night under your roof, Miss” as he had often said to her at end of day. And the ear that hears what will never be said now resounded with her own voice, saying, “I love you” to the boy.
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So creative!
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Thanks, Ava!
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Such a tough prompt and you nailed it! Very clever and well-written. I enjoyed reading this story with a twist I did not see coming. Kudos!
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Thanks - I like what you did with this week's contest, too!
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This was so deep. Your story has really challenged me. It was so sweet and I loved the twist at the end. Well done!
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Thanks, KCW!
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What a creative one VJ. I loved the full focus on sound. I didn't expect that turn towards the end either. Lovely work !
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Thanks, Alexis. Great work on your Substack!
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Thank you, VJ! I haven't updated it in the longest time, though. 😬😂
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May she hear it echo back to her.
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Lol, thanks, Mary!
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VJ:
Wow. That took a turn I didn't expect. Excellent job.
-TL
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Thanks for letting me know the ending landed!
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