Читать книгу Dragon/s Dream. A Postmodern Fable - C. Ioutsen - Страница 5

The Dragon and the water rat were sitting on a riverbank side by side. The water rat was throwing stones in the water, and the Dragon was watching quietly, along with a few curious – and not so quiet – birds on the branches above. The water rat’s skill appeared to be considerable, for more often than not a stone would make several jumps across the water before sinking down with a splash. The Dragon was unimpressed, evidently deep in thought; his gaze followed the stones all the same.

«You ought to show a little attitude, if you want them to jump over the surface,» remarked the water rat smugly.

«No need,» said the Dragon. «I am just watching.»

The water rat shrugged and, shooting him a furtive glance, went back to attend to its stones, gathered in a small pile. After a painstaking inspection it chose the roundest, most polished pebble and launched it with one swift motion. The Dragon was half-heartedly expecting some stones not to sink in the river eventually, but they all did, making him feel mildly embarrassed. He was not in the slightest perturbed – it was just somewhat dull when things kept occurring in a similar fashion.

There was rustling in the trees, and a forest bird darted to the river, chasing after a buzzing mosquito and missing; it circled back, crying mournfully in frustration. The mosquito, as the Dragon saw, was lurking in the grass on the other bank, apprehensive and hesitant to get back in the open. The splash from another stone sent it fleeing for a better refuge.

«I cannot imagine,» said the Dragon. «Why all of them must go down?»

«What else could they do?» The water rat eyed him suspiciously and tightened its grasp on a newly picked stone.

«Well, fly around or lie there on the water or dissipate in the air.»

«That is not what the stones do. At any rate, they are incapable of doing anything on their own accord, and I cannot make them fly around or any of that.»

«Maybe you can, but they cannot.»

«Same difference.» The water rat swung its arm.

«Is it now?» said the Dragon. «You are rather confident about that.»

«I am. Everything must have a reason. In real life a thing happens because some other thing has happened,» declared the water rat.

«Which thing?» said the Dragon.

«Any thing! And it happens all the time.»

«How could you know that?»

«Look, I throw this stone and it falls down.» The water rat snatched up a pebble and threw it; the pebble did not get very far. «See? It falls down because I threw it!»

«Next time it may not fall.»

«It is highly unlikely,» scoffed the water rat.

«What do you mean, unlikely?» said the Dragon. «It will either fall or it will not, there are no other options. Therefore, both are equally probable, since any action can occur only once.»

The river was flowing by, not in the least affected by the argument, its current steady. The riverbed, illuminated by the afternoon sun, was littered with rocks and debris, lying there stock-still, probably heedless of their whereabouts. Splinters of light danced from spot to spot, bouncing unevenly, pulling at occasional water spirits.

«It will fall,» insisted the water rat after a pause, tossing another pebble. «It always does. That is the rule. And a good rule is an offspring of a good experience. It is well to have the rules and uphold them. Saves time and effort.»

«It is apt, then, for those who wish to save their time and effort. Although, why would anyone desire that, I cannot say.»

«Eh?» The water rat was busy with its pile.

«Nothing has invariable value. No rule has invariable use. Also, you realize that you learn whether the rule is good enough only after you have applied it.»

«After the rule has proved itself useful we know its effect before the actual application.»

«It is guessing, not knowing. And you are free to make a guess about anything.»

«Some rule is better than no rule at all, would you not agree?»

«That scarcely makes any sense at all. How can you conceive a better new rule without breaking the old one? And to conceive any rules you should have no rules. But do not take my word for it.»

The water rat brooded about this, turning the idea different ways in its rat mind, shaping and reshaping it. It did not fit. And twittering of the birds was of no help either, distracting the water rat’s wandering attention.

«Rules notwithstanding, there is reality,» protested the water rat.

«So, something that repeats over and over is supposed to be real?»

«Yes, because it means there is some order there.»

«What has order to do with reality? And why cannot unreal things have order?»

The water rat was lost for words for a few moments.

«What is your point here?» it asked, defeated.

«There is none,» said the Dragon. «Now, what would you make of that?»

He picked up a large boulder and launched it straight up. Both he and the water rat watched it getting smaller and smaller, until it vanished completely. It never fell down.

«It does not fall.» The water rat was astonished. «Is it all real?»

«Whenever I throw things, they always fly off,» said the Dragon. «Why, I have no idea.»

«Why?»

«I have no idea.»

«I have not seen that before!»

«You have now,» said the Dragon and walked away with an air of conclusion. After a few steps he paused and added over his shoulder: «Experience, you see, makes no mistakes, unlike our judgment, when it expects to find something that is not there.»

Stunned, the water rat remained motionless, still clutching a pebble. It examined the ground, doubtfully, then the water and then the stone in its hands. «He might be right,» it thought. «It would be so more entertaining to have things behaving in a more manifold manner. Only, would it not be also confusing, being unable ever to predict it?»

The water rat loosened its grip and let the pebble slip from its little fingers. It fell with a thud.

The Dragon meanwhile strolled alongside the river, passing a few bends, until he came upon a comfortable spot, much like the one he had left. He found a lump of rock of decent proportions, weighed it solemnly. With a fluid motion he sent it plummeting at full speed lengthways the river, in the direction he had come from.

The rock was building momentum, traveling above the water, practically touching it. An instant, and it was lost in the misty distance. The Dragon never saw it fall.

«I am growing superstitious,» he thought.