The Tale of the Swordfish & The Eel
March 10th, 2007
The swordfish was cutting a hole in the ocean.
“Why are you doing that?” asked the electric eel, who was trying to shock the sea.
“God gave me this snout, so I’m using it on the biggest thing I could find, which was the ocean.”
“But you can’t cut the ocean,” said the eel. “Nothing happens to it. You’re crazy.”
The swordfish, dismayed, stopped. “Then what am I supposed to do?” it asked. “By the way, all your shocking of the water doesn’t seem to be affecting it much either.”
The eel, taken aback by this, stopped and looked around. True enough, the blue was unburnt.
“Let’s try that rock,” said the eel.
The swordfish sliced at a piece of rock, and winced. “Ow,” he cried out. “It’s useless!”
The eel zapped the rock three times, only to find it completely unharmed.
“Let’s try the sand,” said the eel.
The eel scalded the sand, but gave up after not a wince or cry was evinced from it. Next, the swordfish dipped his snout into a drift, finding the going easier than with the rock, but still not very satisfying. “It works, but then the sand just fills it back in.”
Just then the eel and swordfish eyed each other, as if for the first time. They shifted and readied, as if to rush into each other. And with a burst, each fled in opposite directions, the swordfish to his grotto, the eel to his coral pile.
Time passed and the swordfish and eel became skilled hunters of fish and other sea creatures, and earned reputations as the best of their species in cutting and shocking.
One day, in the midst of a kelp patch, they spotted each other amid the reeds and cried out in happiness. They exchanged stories of their lives and recounted their first meeting, when they both had so much to learn about themselves.
“How like children we were!” said the eel. “Cutting the sea!”
“And shocking the water!” laughed the swordfish.
Gradually their talk lessened and they settled into the easy quiet of true friendship, no matter how separated by distance or time. They eyed each other with fondness.
“I’ve probably cut everything in the sea,” said the swordfish proudly.
“Yes,” said the eel, “Just about everybody who crosses me has had a little zapping.”
“I’m very satisfied with everything,” said the swordfish. “I’ve had it all!”
“Me too!” said the eel.
They prepared to part, exchanging vows to visit on occasion, each aware of the other’s nervousness as they made their goodbyes.
“Why must we?” said the swordfish suddenly.
“I don’t know,” said the eel, after a spot of thought, “But could we ever not have?”
And with that they fell on each other, and in an instant it was done: the one cut in half, the other shocked to pieces.
