A Bed That Burned and Did Not Burn

I've been reading a lot of fairy tales lately

Once there was, and once there was not, a boy who lived in a village near the sea. He was quiet and strange, and though the village was small, he always felt far away.

At night, he would slip out from his mother’s hut and make his way to the beach. At midnight, a hush would come over the shore. All the dark ocean’s dark waves settled. The still black surface reflected all the stars in all the sky. It was like the ocean had little wildfires blazing all over. The boy felt a wondrous calm. And then the waves would ruffle the water again. The crashing breakers extinguished every little spark.

Because the family was very poor, the boy shared a room with his mother. He slept on the floor next to his mother’s bed. One night, she woke to find the door ajar and her son gone. When he returned, hair curled wild from the ocean wind, she said, “You’ll never make friends with wild hair like that.” And because the family was very poor, she could not afford a barber. So she struck a match and lit the boy’s hair on fire. It burned all the way to the shining scalp. His hair was wild no more.

After that, the boy stayed away from the ocean. Seven years passed. He grew tall and quiet, and hair began to sprout under his arms and across his chest. His mother took one look and said, “You’ll never get treated well looking like that. You’re from a wild place, and you look it.” And since the family was very poor, she could not afford a barber. So she struck a match and lit the boy’s arms and chest on fire. It burned all the way to the skin. His hair was wild no more.

Another seven years passed. The boy, now a young man, no longer remembered the ocean. But one night in his dreams, a dolphin came to visit him. The boy gleamed at the smooth, wet, hairless skin of the dolphin. When he awoke, he followed the dolphin all the way down to the beach and dove into the water alongside the dolphin. There the dolphin showed him a trick. “Next time your mother tries to burn you down, remember me!” And the dolphin did a little trick and went on his way.

Now that he was grown, he grew sore sleeping on the floor. He longed for a bed of his own. So he taught himself to work wood. It took seven years—gathering tools, learning craft, failing and trying again. When at last he finished, the bed was crooked, some legs slanting oddly, but the oiled wood gleamed. It reminded him of the dolphin’s skin, and he loved it.

That night, just as he was about to sleep in it for the first time, his mother said, “Why don’t we make your first night special? You used to love sneaking down to the ocean. Why not sleep out there, just for tonight, under the stars?”

The boy hesitated. Something in her voice rang hollow. But the breeze was warm, and he missed the sea, even if he didn’t know it.

So they carried the bed down to the beach. But once there, his mother said, “You’ll never find a nice girl to marry with a strange bed like that. You’ve made something wild again.”

Since the family was very poor, she could not afford to hire a proper carpenter to make a real bed. So she struck a match and lit the corner of the boy’s bed on fire. The flames caught quickly. The comforter curled in on itself. The young man tried to stamp it out, but the fire moved faster than he could. The legs splintered. The waves crept closer.

Just as the flames reached his feet, a great wave rose from the sea and swept the bed away from shore.

The boy held tight as water soaked the mattress. His eyes stung with salt. And then the dolphin appeared. It leapt from the water, laughing.

“Remember me!” it said. And the boy rushed with admiration for the dolphin. The bedsheets grew smooth and shining, like the dolphin’s skin. The fire couldn’t burn any more of these enchanted sheets. The young man found himself smiling, just like the dolphin: playful, knowing, free.

And so the boy lived out at sea, his bedposts on fire. They burned like torches in the night. They kept him safe and warm out in the cold, dark sea. Fishermen and sailors learned to navigate by his lights.

Somewhere on the open sea, a young man still drifts, four fires burning in the dark like fallen stars.