One-Eyed Jack

The sun was beginning to set by the time I eluded my final pursuer. Having a moment to rest, I studied my surroundings. I had never been this far in the woods before. Some things ... or some thing... was moving in the overhead canopy, but the dying light and thick clumps of leaves kept the source of the rustling well hidden. Some distance to the left a full-throated basso choir of frogs commenced their evening performance. Dropping on the moss and resting my head against a dead sycamore, I thought, "So, water's close by and, in theory, the mosquitoes should be few. Not bad. I've slept in worse places." I then closed my eyes and fell instantly asleep.

A repeated poking on my shoulder disturbed me. Forcing my heavy lids open, I dumbly stared at the prodding stick and wearily looked up to see who wielded it.

"Oh, great," I muttered, "a cyclops."

The cyclops dropped his stick, crouched down and sniffed me.

"So," I yawned, "are you going to roast me first or devour me alive?"

He rubbed his chin. "Well, you know, that sort of depends. Are you a free-range human?"

"I don't think they make those anymore."

"Yeah? Well, no matter. I'm supposed to be watching my carbs anyway."

"S'wonderful," I replied, closing my eyes again, "s'marvelous. Good night."

"So, like, what brought you all the way down here?"

"Great, just great," I thought. "Why are these creatures always so infernally chatty?" Abandoning all hope of getting any rest, I asked, "What time is it?"

 "Sorry, I ain't the kind to keep his eye on the clock, but I do keep my eye on the bole. Look!" He pointed to a nearby trunk where, in the dim light, I could just barely discern a group of scampering flying squirrels.

"Look at 'em, human! Cute little things, ain't they?"

"Well," I mumbled,"that's one point of view."

"Being a cyclops, I only got one point of view."

"So I take it these are your woods."

"Nah, I just work here. The owner pays me to keep my eye on the place."

"You're the groundskeeper for all this?"

"Yep, as far as the eye can see."

"Nice work if you can get it."

"And I got it 'cause I tried. I got to confess, I love it, too. It's very peaceful here, you know. Seems like so many places it's dog eat dog and an eye for an eye. But here I got my own beautiful, peaceful, private cyclorama." He sighed. "The trouble is, of course, that I'm getting older. Won't be long until I'll have to hang it up. What I need is to find myself an apprentice, you know, somebody to show the ropes to, somebody to take over when I'm gone."

"You mean me?"

He looked around theatrically. "You see anyone else around here I could be talkin' to?"

"Are you saying I could stay here the rest of my life?"

"Nothing less."

"But if I did that then I'd be a free-range human. Instead of filling your billet I'd be filling your gullet."

"Maybe, maybe not. I doubt it, but who can really say? Nevertheless, from my viewpoint a life without a little uncertainty, even a little risk, isn't life at all."

I studied him. Then I studied the shadowy surroundings. Then I thought of what waited for me beyond these woods. I weighed it all and then shrugged. "Sure," I smiled. "it might be fun."

"That's what I like," he crowed, "a man with singular vision!" He then propped himself against a tree opposite me and we both fell sound asleep.