Light's Wager

The God of the Light and the God of the Dark sat at the edge of the world where they met twice daily, once at sunrise and once at sunset.

“Would you like sugar in your tea?” Dark asked Light.

“Not today, thank you. I feel far too melancholy to enjoy anything sweet.”

“No sugar?” A perplexed expression appeared on Dark’s face.

“No, no sugar. I don’t think I could enjoy it. It has been thousands of years since I rested, and I find myself too weary to experience joy.”

“Then why don’t you rest?”

“How? When? Wherever I am, the world is awake. If I rest, who will make the flowers turn toward the sun? Who will make the birds sing? Who will help the bear catch his fish? Who will help the fish escape the bear? Who will lead the humans through their lives?”

“Those are good questions. I agree, it is tiring to run the world.”

“How would you know? Most are sleeping in your realm.”

“Many are sleeping, but not all. Much happens due to my influence. The nightcrawler churns the dirt for the flowers. I keep the bird’s eggs warm in his nest. The bat catches his insects. The insects escape the bat. I wake the mothers of newborn babies so their children may feed. I too grow tired at times from caring for the world.”

“Still, it must be easier than managing the day.”

“You are probably right. While there are moments when I wonder how the warmth of the sun would feel, or how vivid the colors of creation must appear in the day, I enjoy the relative peace of the night. I suppose I do not envy you.”

“If only I could spend some time in the night. I think I could rest a little.”

“But you cannot leave the day. The world could not go on without at least one of us.”

“Then switch places with me. You can feel the warmth and see the colors as you desire. I will take care of all the creatures who live in the night, and when I am done, I will have some time to rest.”

“I did not say I desire these things. I merely wonder. Is there not great satisfaction in the act of wondering itself? I am content as things are.”

“What can I do to convince you to trade lots?”

“I don’t believe there is anything.”

“There must be something.”

“There is not. I like the night, and I mean to stay there.”

“Perhaps a wager?”

“An intriguing prospect. What do you have in mind?”

“If I win, you must take my place in the day until I feel adequately rested.”

“And if you lose?”

“Then I will serve the tea at both of our daily meetings until you decide that I have served you long enough.”

“I do like the idea of being served by you twice each day.”

“Aha! So, you can be enticed. On what should we bet?

“Which do you believe are the most exhausting creatures to care for?”

“It is most certainly the humans. They are terribly complex.”

“Then you must get a human to complete the task I choose by our next meeting.”

“What is the task?”

“It is a simple one. The human must carry a bucket of water to the top of a hill.”

“That does not sound so difficult.”

“True, but I have one condition. Since I cannot go with you into the day to exert my influence over the human, as you will be able to do, I will be allowed to give him one thing that will make the task more challenging.”

“There is nothing you can give him that will make him strong enough to resist me, and if you chain a boulder to his ankle to hinder him, I will show him how to remove it.”

“So, you agree to these terms?”

“May I select the human?”

“You may.”

“Then I agree.”

Light and Dark looked over the world. Light chose a healthy and strong young man to be his champion, then the two gods clinked their teacups together to seal the wager. When the tea was done, and the gods prepared to return to their realms, Light reminded Dark about his right to give something to the human.

“I have already done so,” Dark responded, “but thank you for your honesty. I would have taken little pleasure in a victory that was not fairly won.”

“But what have you given him? I do not see that this human has anything that will prevent him from completing the task.”

“I assure you he does. Do what you will to get the human to the top of a hill with a bucket of water. I am not worried.”

The gods nodded at each other, and went their separate ways. Dark was needed to guide the nightcrawlers, bats, insects, and sleepless mothers. Light’s presence was required to do all the work of the day, but more importantly, to have one human carry a bucket of water up a hill.

__________

“So, did the human make it to the top of the hill with the bucket of water?” Dark asked Light upon their next meeting.

“He was so close. So close! But no, in the end, I could not get him to complete the task.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand it. It should have been easy.”

“Tell me about it,” Dark said, placing a teacup down and waiting for Light to pour, which Light did whilst recounting the events of the day.

“No matter what I did, I could not get the man up the hill. It was as though he was deaf to my instructions.”

“Why do you think that was?”

“I couldn’t say. On my first attempt, I simply had the wind whisper to him what I wished him to do. The man listened to the wind. He went to the well and filled the bucket. I thought the task would be complete before most humans were even awake, but there is something unusual about this human.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He began to walk to the hill with the bucket, but as he approached it, he heard a child’s laugh. He followed the sound, despite the wind’s continued whispers. The child was sitting on the ground and playing with sticks. He had drawn a circle in the dirt, and was tossing the sticks into it. Each time a stick landed in the circle he laughed and clapped. The man watched for a bit, then put the bucket down and asked if he could join the improvised game. The child was happy to have someone to play with, and the two of them just sat there, throwing sticks in a circle on the ground. I had other matters to attend to, so I left them there, playing and giggling together.”

“Interesting. So, you gave up?”

“Of course not! I returned at midday. The man was back at his home, working away at his daily chores. Again, the wind whispered my instructions to him. He filled the bucket and started toward the hill.”

“But, he was not successful?”

“He made it closer, but this time when he got near the hill, he stopped as he came to a stream. Instead of crossing the bridge over this brook at the foot of the hill, he walked right into the cool water. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed and his face to the sky, then hopped from stone to stone down the stream, water sloshing out of the bucket. He followed the babbling of the stream until he arrived a pond. It was perfect glass. The man began picking up pebbles and examining them, turning them in his hands and running his fingers along them. Occasionally, he aimed one of the flatter, smoother ones at the pond, then watched it skip along, leaving circles undulating outward from each strike. When the stone was finally swallowed by the water, he stared at the ripples until they dissipated. His gaze remained fixed until the pond reverted to the perfect mirror it had been. When the pebble was little more than a memory and the reflection of the clouds once again drifted across the surface undisturbed, he began inspecting new pebbles and repeated the activity. He did this over and over.”

“A very difficult human, indeed! Was this when you admitted defeat?”

“Not yet! I found the man again in the evening. The sun was sinking in the distance and the shadows were becoming cool, yet I was determined. The wind spoke more forcefully to him this time. It was so loud that I was sure it would drown out any distractions. For the third time, the man filled the bucket from the well. His pace was slower than it had been earlier, the energy of the morning long gone. Still, I thought he would make it. The wind whipped around him, pushing him forward. I could feel my success was within reach as he took his first steps upon the hill. I envisioned myself relaxing while you perform the work of the day. The wind continued to urge him upward. He approached the peak when there were only moments left in the day, but with just a few steps to go, I was sure he would arrive safely at the top with a full bucket. Suddenly, he stopped. The wind swirled about the man, but it was of no use. He dumped out the bucket, turned it over, and sat on it. Sat on it! When I was so close to winning! He leaned his elbows on his knees and sighed deeply as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky ablaze. As far as I know, he remains there still, just sitting on his bucket and watching indigo encroach upon the vibrancy of the day.”

“It sounds like you are conceding.”

“I am. I must. The day is at an end, and there is no way of getting this human to carry a bucket of water to the top of a hill. I just can’t figure out why.”

“I suspect it is what I gave him that prevented him from following your instructions.”

“Ah, yes! This has been plaguing me all day! What did you give him?”

“Did I not tell you there is great satisfaction in wondering? There was no need to arm him or weigh him down. I simply filled him with wonder. How could a man filled with wonder slog water up a hill when there are children laughing, or stones to skip, or sunsets to view?”

“How clever of you! Well played!” The raucous laughter of the God of the Light and the God of the Dark was heard as thunder all over the world. “Hand me your cup so I may refill your tea,” said Light, who was a firm believer in the sanctity of a wager.

“No, old friend, you are tired. Hand me yours and I will pour. The cup you have already served me is quite enough.”