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Stories

The Sloth And The Runner

There was once a sloth and a marathon runner. The sloth was the laziest and slowest man alive. For many a time he would be found sleeping because moving around too much got him very tired. It was a rare sight to see him even lift a finger to do any work. He would barely speak because it took too much effort. The one time he would open his mouth was when he would let out a loud yawn. When he did walk, he looked as if his feet were glued to the floor. People stopped waiting for him to come by because they knew they had a better chance of winning the Lotto. The marathon runner was just the opposite. He had won so many races he ran out of room to put all the medals. His house was one big trophy shop. For never a time was he seen sitting around. He was busy working and running. He was counted on as the town's messenger and he never failed. One day the runner went out for a morning jog. He took his usual route through the woods. He came to the part of the woods where it became dense. He quickened his pace and was blinded for a moment. During that time he tripped over a large person on the road and fell on his face. The forest was quiet except for an ear-splitting snore. It sounded like someone was sawing wood. The runner got up and turned around. There was the sloth sleeping like a baby unaware that anything had happened. The runner went over to him and kicked him. The sloth did not move. Usually when a man is kicked, he jumps out of his sleep (unless he is drugged or dead). But not the sloth, his senses were dulled so much that a bomb would have to be lit right next to his ear to get a reaction. The runner kicked him again harder in the back. The sloth with a mild resemblance of life rolled to his other side and opened his eyes. The sloth let out a bellowing yawn and asked very slowly, "why have you awaken me from my peaceful slumber?""Because I nearly broke my leg tripping over you," said the runner. "I'm sorry for that but even if I knew you were coming, I couldn't of moved out of the way because I am too slow." The sloth yawned again. The runner became furious with anger. "Why do you mock me, sloth?" The sloth was tiring of his interview and said, "leave me be for I will sleep here for the rest of my days." Get up and face me like a man," said the runner. The sloth decided to humor himself. "I challenge you to a race," said the sloth. "A race?" "You must be mad," said the runner. "I'm lazy but I'm not mad." "Do you know where the great lake is?" asked the sloth. "Yes, I do," replied the runner. "Meet me there tomorrow at noon and we will race around both sides, you taking the left and I the right and whoever loses pays the other a hundred bucks." The sloth hoped the runner would leave him alone. "I accept your challenge," said the runner. The jogger limped on again and the sloth went back to his snoring. The next morning the runner got up to prepare for his race. It had always been the same routine of his to get up early, stretch, and throw a couple of eggs down. The runner was confident but worried at the same time because there was something about the sloth that he feared. He did not know exactly what it was, but it was there. He was sure of that. The sloth seemed docile enough but was there something more? Eleven thirty came and the runner took off towards the Great Lake. It was a brief jaunt, which only took him ten minutes. He reached the lake and realized its beauty. It was colossal in size and a great bearer of life. Many fish had been caught there, which became the lifeline of the town. Out in the middle of the lake, a bass jumped out, splashing water to and from, then went back in. The bass tried the trick again and out of nowhere a gull swooped down and grabbed the fish out of it's haven, quickly swallowing it whole. This reminded the runner of the sloth and how quickly he would defeat him. Three boxes stood to the runner's left and he decided to lean against them. He looked out in the lake and saw a tugboat crossing the lake. The runner began to hear a familiar snoring sound and saw that the sloth was sleeping right under his nose. The runner kicked the sloth and the sloth looked up at him dreamy-eyed. "How did you get here without me seeing you?" asked the runner. "I have my ways," said the sloth. "Are you ready to race?" asked the runner. After a brief yawn the sloth said, "yes." The runner took off quickly to his left and entered the woods. The sloth leisurely stood up and frowned at the long road he must race. The thought was nauseating to him. Instead he turned back towards the three crates. A long sleep would favor him more than a burdensome run. He lifted up the top of the closest crate and slipped in. The tugboat started chugging towards the three crates. The boatman was running his usual schedule. Today had been a hectic day and these last three crates would finish the day. He could picture himself downing a cold beer. Upon finishing the beer, he would belch and gladly ask for another. The vessel reached the shore and the boatman started loading the crates on board. The crates shook back and forth but the sloth remained dormant. After completing the load the boat took off for the other side where the race would be finished. The boat was almost there and the boatman increased the speed to begin his long weekend. The boat stopped on the shore and the sudden stop woke the sloth. The sloth got out of the crate and said, "are we here yet, Joe?" "Yes, sloth, we're here." The sloth handed the boatman twenty bucks and said to Joe, "I can't wait to see the look on the runner's face when he sees I won." "Yeah, me too, sloth," he said. The sloth asked Joe, "What are you going to do now?" "Get my money from the sloth," he said. "I just paid you, Joe!" Taking off his mask, the runner said, "not my hundred bucks, you cheat." The sloth in total shock collapsed. The runner took his money off the sloth and headed for the bar.

© 2003 by By James Keane

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