The boats can't make themsleves

Stachu was a boat builder living a lonely life far away from any city, having only his dock that connected his place of living with the city's harbour by the river, and the little hut he lived in. That was the lifestyle that suited him for most of his life - until he became really old, that is. Lack of friends or family or, for that matter, anyone that could help with his heavy labour, became a real issue for the old man. He was not wealthy, so the concept of retirement was not available to him but, at the same time, he knew very well that his body, now diminishing in strength, will give in sooner rather than later. He had no other choice, though, than to keep making boats, for that was the only thing he knew how to do.

One day, after countless hours of harvesting wood from the nearby forest, Stachu came back to his little hut completely exhausted. Too tired to even fix himself any food, though his body craved it more than anything else.

“I'll just have a cup of tea first and rest a little” he murmured to himself and proceeded to the kitchen. His hand didn't even manage to reach the kettle when he heard someone knocking at his door. That was very strange, for he never had visitors. After all, his business took place in the city's harbour and his clients only had a very vague idea of where he might live. As he opened the door he saw an extraordinarily dressed man standing at his doorstep. He was wearing a long, blue coat and his head was covered by a massive hat. He was leaning on a long walking stick, smiling at Stachu as if they had known each other for a long time.

“Good evening, sir” the man said. “Is there any chance of a cup of tea and a place to sleep for this weary wizard? Time is late and I will not reach the tavern before the sun will go down. I will be forever grateful for your help.”

This irritated Stachu quite greatly. A travelling wizard asking for tea?! That's the last thing he hoped for this evening. But he let the unexpected guest in. In the end, he was a wizard and who knows what he might be capable of if faced with denial. One should never decline a cup of tea to the wizard, his grandma used to say to him. He used to also nibble on her extremely long nails as if they were the corn cobs but Stachu never followed her that far.

Even though Stachu was so exhausted that he planned to skip the supper himself, he didn't want his guest to starve so he prepared a simple meal of rice and vegetables and they sat by the only table in the house and then ate quietly.

“What is that you do?” said the wizard rather unexpectedly breaking the silence that suited the host so far. “For a living, that is”.

“I build boats.” he responded and did not elaborate any further. That did not satiate the wizard's hunger for knowledge, though

“That's a very useful skill, I have to say” said the wizard while grooming his beard with one hand and still holding the fork with the other. “What boats are you building exactly?”

“Any boat.” The response was laconic but so was the speaker. Nonetheless, he did not intend to sound rude so he added, “As long as people are willing to pay, I will build any boat they desire.”

“I see” the wizard uttered and then went silent for a moment. After a brief pause, he continued “Why is it that you make boats? You don't seem to enjoy it, not at this age particularly if you don't mind me pointing this out.”

This irritated Stachu and he felt that it was a good moment to finish this conversation. He fed the wizard and prepared him a place to sleep so he felt that all his duties have been fulfilled.

“Someone has to do it,” he responded abruptly, “Boats don't make themselves” then he got up from his chair, picked up the dirty dishes, only to put them on the counter to be washed later, then he proceeded straight to his bed without adding anything at all. As he lay down he could hear the wizard murmuring to himself:

“They don't build themselves indeed.” but he couldn't be bothered to respond to that.

The next morning Stachu woke up and the wizard was already gone.

“Ugly bastard” he whispered to himself, “never even thanked me for my hospitality.”

As soon as the anger washed over him, he got out of his hut immediately, for it was another day and that meant more work for him to do. He did not harvest enough wood to finish his current project so off he went back to the woods with his trusty hatchet to grab more resources. Upon arriving though a great surprise awaited him.

Boughs that had marked the spot where he cut the trees in the past were no longer just boughs. Instead, peculiar constructions grew out of them. At first, he could not believe his own eyes but the longer he looked the more certain he became: these were the boats. Ready made boats growing out of the boughs, ready to just cut down and sell!

Stachu spent a fair bit of time just running around from one miraculous boat to another, inspecting them all and drowning in awe. They were all carved out with greater skill and precision than he could ever hope of having, at this age especially. After the wave of enthusiasm passed, he cut them down (trying to strike them as close to the bottom of the boat as possible without making a hole in it), tied them to his rope and dragged them back home one by one and placed them at his dock, ready for customers to pick up. The part of getting them to the dock was the tricky one, he needed plenty of logs to put underneath the boat so that it will roll on them, but all things considered, it still cost him way less than actually making a boat himself from scratch.

After an easy sell (some clients even paid extra for the quality that exceeded their expectations) new orders came in and, to Stachu's disbelief, fulfilling them was just as easy, for new boats grew out of the same boughs again and it all happened just overnight! In fact, right now, he had far more boats than he could ever find customers for!

And that, precisely, was the reason why his happiness did not last long.

You see, some people are wealthy enough to own their own land with forests, valleys and mountains. Stachu was not one of these people, and the nearby forest was not for him alone. It just so happened that other people found out about the magical forests, and boats that grew by themselves. They started coming in, and all in vast quantities, to cut down their own boats. There were even queues of people waiting in line, looking at the brand new boats slowly growing out of the magical boughs.

It was an obvious end for Stachu and his boat business. Starting circumstances provided him with quite a bit of income, but that did not last long. Soon money ran out, customers were nowhere to be found, for his work was no longer needed, and Stachu fell into terrible poverty. He was forced to sell all his possession just to be able to afford food and he found himself on the streets of the nearby city he used to stray away from at all costs. The old boatmaker was a beggar now, poor as one may be and, impossibly skinny, he roamed the streets begging for money and food just to be able to live to see another day.

On one of those dreadful days, as he stretched out his trembling hand and murmured his routine questions, asking for anything that strangers may spare, he heard a weird response. One that he never heard before.

“You don't seem happy,” the stranger said.

Stachu raised his eyes and he saw the very same wizard that he fed the other evening, the one that appeared at his doorstep just one night before the magical boughs completely ruined his life.

“You just wanted to boats to make themselves, that was your only wish. And now look at you! You're more miserable than ever!” the wizard exclaimed with quite a note of shock in his voice. Stachu looked at him with such a strange feeling of surprise and disdain at the same time, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

“You people are all unworthy of any help whatsoever! However good and miraculous I try to be for your kind, you will always turn yourselves into complete ruin!” the wizard shook his head and was on his way. Stachu's eyes followed him for a while until the wizard disappeared behind the corner of the building.

As for Stachu, he kept on begging for food from whoever passed by, but never even dared to ask for anything more than that. One can never know where undesired help might come from.