Buy and Hold $$$ Part 6 Apollyon: The Destroyer

Victor had been leaning in, staring intensely into my eyes as if hypnotizing me – he now sat back in his chair, took a sip of his wine, and stared off into space as if contemplating man’s inscrutable place in the universe.

I was sick at heart. I identified with the prince in his story. I was him—I was stuck down a well, suspended over an abyss. The futility of my life slammed into me with the cruelty of being run over by a ten-ton truck—except, I was still alive to feel the pain.

Victor seemed to sense something of what I was experiencing. He dramatically embellished finishing off his wine and elegantly returned the glass to the table.

“All for a taste of honey, eh Man? Seems so absurd doesn’t it? But we do it—I did it. Spent forty-five years building this firm—for what? He picked up the bills he had left the waitress as a tip, crushed them in his fist and tossed them in the air.

“Ha! All for a few dollars that can be grasped like so much trash.”

His eyes twinkled as he smiled triumphantly confident he had made his point.

I felt sick. I literally could see the room swim before me. “I’ve got to go, Victor,” I rasped.

“What—and not hear the ending?”

I stopped, partway out of my chair, mouth agape, staring at him. “I thought that was the ending.”

“Oh, nonsense, my boy—how could we have known what went on in the prince’s head if he perished in the abyss?”

I shook my head. My mind was a complete blank. Victor motioned me to sit back down and continued his story.

It turns out an old peasant man and his plough horse were in a nearby field and he heard the shouts and came, knowing what had happened.

He told the villagers over the years to plug up the well with a huge rock. They laughed him to scorn. “Why should we bother, old man? Everyone knows the well is there—only a fool would fall in.” Well, he told himself, now a young fool has fallen in.

He took a rope and made a noose and draped it over the young man in the well. “Hold on, my young fool,” he shouted down to him. He tied the other end to his plough horse, slapped his rump, and the horse took two steps forward and the young man was pulled out.

The old man muttered, as he gathered up the rope. “I warned them, but would they listen to wisdom? Oh no, I’m just an old man.”

He looked down in disdain at the young man lying face down on the grass blubbering. “Get up, you fool—you’re safe now. In future, take heed of your steps.”

As the prince sat up, the old man recognized his young master. “Oh, forgive me, Your Highness, I had no idea. Let me help you.”

He put the prince on his old plough horse, took him back to his hut and nursed him. Needless to say, the prince didn’t go to Moscow that day, or to the Debutante’s Ball that evening. As a matter of fact, the prince abhorred his inheritance.

He freed his slaves and allowed them to own their plots of land, and he himself lived in a simple hut on the estate as if he were a peasant himself.

Victor sat back, a contented smile on his face.

“Pretty sobering, isn’t it? A cautionary tale, my boy.”

I nodded, drained and too mute to add anything.

“Well, I must be going and leave you to your partying and your young women. I had a most enjoyable time, Gray—now, you have a good evening.”

I watched him walk away, finally seeing him for what he was—not a mentor but a Destroyer.

© 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

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