The Time Thief

How does one sleep or focus or do anything with so much commotion around? There is simply no way one can get anything done when all around you, is noise!

He had made sure, sure, that his burrow was not around other burrows, or around lakes, or riverbanks or any lakes! All so that he could have some peace and quiet. And yet, it seemed there was none in his immediate future.

A beaver must have time to read in his old age. Everyone knew that! He had done his civic duty of building the finest dam in the entire section of the forest from the most suitable tree that he had spent nearly a week finding. The kids were off to their own little section of the forest building their own little dams! Surely now, he could sit down and read some books! But no, yet again, all this constant scurrying and shuffling coming from all around his burrow was driving him insane. Could he not have a moment’s worth of peace?

He didn’t even know who or what it was! It didn’t really matter. All for he cared, it could have been Saxby the Dragon herself. The result was the same! He was not getting any reading done. Yes, this was a thief. Not a simple normal honest stealer of things. But an insidious, malevolent monstrous thief who was hell bent on stealing his time. This would not stand.

Evenings? Could he read in the evenings or nighttime when the infuriating noise seemed to be at its minimum? That might work! But wouldn’t that mean that that time thief had won? Why should he have to alter his life and his habits to suit the chronological whims of this bandit?

Maybe he could set up some traps! Sharp pain was always a good teacher! Once a shower of sticks and stones had fallen on this intruder’s person, maybe then they would finally learn.

SNAP!!!!

The unmistakable breaking of twigs outside. Again! And again! From different places around the entrance of his burrow! This time closer! Was the intruder getting bolder?

This was simply unbearable! A full month had passed since he had managed to read anything! Not a single word! And he so badly wanted to read! To get lost in a world beyond this forest of red and purple trees and black rivers; where everything was so blasé (a word he only knew because long ago HE HAD TIME TO READ).

SNAP!!!

Further away this time. What was this thing playing at! It was time for action! No more sitting about waiting for this torment to subside on its own!

There was nothing outside his burrow! It was fresh and quiet as could be! The snapping of twigs had died out immediately! No more scurrying, or shuffling! No more irritating footfalls! Nothing!

Was he being observed? The time thief had to be watching! There was no other explanation! Waiting for him to enter his sanctum sanctorum only to resume his pattern of irritation again! Why! Why do it? What joy, or benefit was there to be gained from preventing an old beaver from reading his books? What madness was this?

“OH ENOUGH! SHOW YOURSELF YOU THUG”, he cried out!

Nothing.

No answer came. “CRAVEN!!!”, he exclaimed in a last-ditch attempt to manipulate the thief out of its hiding place. Still nothing.

But what if he slept outside from now?!!? Would he then be able to catch a glimpse of this elusive enemy! Yes. YES! This was the only way left now. To once and for all, achieve peace and quiet, he must catch at a bare minimum, a glimpse of this time thief! Must!

Cold. And wet! That was the forest always at night! He had forgotten since he had a nice little burrow but now, he slept outside. He had been sleeping outside for more than a month! The only good thing about it was the cold and wet would ensure he had no sleep! The constant random scurrying and noises were ever present and yet he was nowhere close to catching anything close to a glimpse of the source. And he was not fool yet to yell out loudly in this jungle at night! He had started fidgeting as well. No reading had been done in nearly 3 months. So much time lost, no, stolen.

The year was nearly done.

It was easy to give up in the end. There were chores to do, food to gather, burrow to clean. But no reading. The random torment of the unknown tormentors had died out the moment he had thrown his books outside. There was some relief in that! He had almost cried in relief when he had realized what had heard post that was silence. All the unread pearls of wisdom, humor and pathos now unopened and unseen had been thrown out. He even refused to go into the nook he had previously reserved for his reading. The regret would choke him like vicious smoke. So much time stolen.

The magpies laughed, even if the laughter was bitter. The payment was complete. No rest for him, no reading, no serene old age! He chose the tree with their nest to build his dam and stole their future. So, he had to pay with his time.