Maybe they were nowhere...

Het verhaal over de eekhoorn en de mier voor KpaSec.

(Ironisch genoeg is de titel een vraag die ik mij bijna dagelijks stel als ik moet lesgeven en weer eens alleen aan de klas sta... =P)

The sun was shining and the squirrel and the ant were sitting in the grass on the river-bank. Above them the willow rustled, in front of them the water burbled, and in the distance the thrush was singing.

‘In my opinion,’ said the squirrel, ‘I am happy now.’

The ant said nothing and chewed at a blade of grass.

‘I think,’ said the squirrel, ‘that I could never be happier than I am now.’

‘Well...’ said the ant. ‘And if a honey-cake came flying by with a note on it saying: for the squirrel and the ant...?’

‘Yes,’ said the squirrel. ‘Then I should be even happier. But happier than that is impossible.’

‘Well...’ said the ant. ‘And if I'd been planning to go on a journey and I said: squirrel, I'm not going, I'm staying with you, all right?...’

‘Yes,’ said the squirrel. ‘You're right. Then I should be even happier...’

‘And if the cricket was throwing a really big party tonight, and if you suddenly

got a letter from the whale with an invitation, and if today the sun didn't set any more, and if everything smelt of fresh beech-nuts...?’

The squirrel didn't answer. He looked at the sparkling water and thought: so actually I'm not really that happy after all... He looked sideways at the ant. But the ant had his eyes shut, chewed at his blade of grass and let the sun shine on his face.

What am I then? the squirrel wondered. If I'm not very happy... It was as if a cloud had come between him and the sun. He couldn't answer that question.

In the distance the thrush fell silent and the nightingale started to sing, just like that, in the middle of the day. Hey, thought the squirrel, what's going on? He felt a stirring in his eyes. Tears? He wondered. Are those tears? He heaved a deep sigh, folded his tail behind his head and stared at the sky. I just won't think any more, he thought. But he knew that that was very difficult.

So they lay side by side on the river-bank, the ant and the squirrel.

‘How lovely it is just lying here relaxing, squirrel,’ said the ant a long time later.

The squirrel said nothing.

‘I've never been so lovely and relaxed before,’ said the ant.

I wish, thought the squirrel, that just once I could be sitting on a branch with my legs crossed with the ant down below shouting up: you're right, squirrel, I admit it, you're absolutely right...

The sun slipped slowly down the sky, the river burbled and in the distance the blackbird sang. The squirrel just looked and just listened and didn't think about anything anymore.

From Maybe They Were Nowhere (Misschien waren zij nergens). Amsterdam: Querido, 1991