I found this story fragment when I was hunting for my brother's baby book in a box where I stored some other notebooks and copies of earlier poems I wrote. One of those notebooks contained my attempt at a Canterbury tale, although I haven't read it in years and have no idea how long ago I wrote it or even in which decade (my best guess is late 90s/early 00s). There was a partial Tale that I penned following this Prologue but upon recently rereading it I felt there was no trace of a good solid story in it, so for now I'll offer only what I have here (with slight editing) which I think is interesting reading in and of itself. I imagine that writing your own Canterbury Tale (or even just a Prologue) could be a fun college Creative Writing assignment (what sayst thou, Kaycie?) whether its in a Medieval setting or a contemporary one or whatever the student prefers. I actually have no plans to add a further Tale to this Prologue right now because I'm currently working on my Jesus/Freud 'Dolls' dialogue, but I hope you enjoy what I've written here. Thank you.
Here begins the prologue to my tale: "Well, I must say," the Host boomed in his hearty and most cheerful voice, "that is one tale which not only bears repeating but should certainly be rewarded with a repast such as the likes of Lucullus has never seen. But of course there are still many tales to be told by the whole lot of you. So enough of this idle chatter. Who will be the next one to treat our ears to a fabrication? And remember, the _____'s story, as excellent as it may have sounded, has not yet won the meal, so please do not hesitate to offer it some stiff competition."
"Wait," said the Miller, his arm stretched out in a halting gesture and his eyes fixed curiously on me. "It seems that this young fellow has been following us for quite some time now. I don't recall him as being a part of this group."
No sooner had the words escaped from the Miller's lips than all eyes turned to look at me. I felt like I was about the size of a dwarf as I stood openly in their paths of vision. I was ready to turn and run away if they expressed any signs of animosity towards me, but of course they didn't.
"Why, he's only a boy," said the Monk.
"Poor thing!" cried the Wife of Bath sympathetically. "He looks so cold and tired. I wonder how long he has been traveling with us."
The Summoner, who was not a very pleasant man, or even a pleasant-looking one, came up to me and demanded, "Who are you, child, and why have you been following us?"
"Let him be, Summoner," ordered the Host. "Don't scare him away." The Summoner quickly backed off, and the Host then turned to me and calmly asked, "What is your name, child?'
I told him my name and then added, "I beg to differ with you, sir, but I am not exactly what you consider a child, though my looks may say otherwise. I am, in fact, eighteen years of age."
The Host smiled at me and said, "So you are a man, yet you are still pretty young to be traveling by yourself, if that is indeed what you are doing."
I nodded and said, "I travel around England working for and earning whatever wages I can to purchase clothing and sustenance and also to rent adequate but temporary lodgings. That's what I do half the time. The other half I spend looking for adventure in any shape or form which will not only add some excitement to my oftentimes plebeian and prosaic life but also some weight to my near-vacant change purse." I sighed. "So far I have not been too fortunate."
"That is very commendable, I think," replied the Friar.
"You can never have too much adventure in your life," said the Knight proudly. "I should know."
"He's young, but still seems to be able to take care of himself," remarked the Wife of Bath.
"'Plebeian and prosaic,'" murmured the Monk. "We've another scholar here!"
"Enough of this idle chatter!" snapped the Summoner harshly. "I still would like to know why you have been following this party so closely, you young knave!"
"Didn't I tell you to let him be, Summoner?" said the Host sternly.
"By St. Loy he must drunken quite out of his mind to speak to the youngster like that!" exclaimed the Prioress.
"No, I don't think so," said the Sailor. "When he's drunk he usually speaks only in Latin."
"Well, then, this must be a real first for him!" joked the Miller.
"I'll tell you the reason why, Sir Summoner," I replied calmly. "I shall be more than happy to. But I would appreciate it if you could act a little more civilly towards me from now on."
The Summoner glared indignantly at me for a moment, then backed away and nodded in sullen agreement. I paused to briefly consider my precis for these people, and then simply spoke the truth. "I have little to say here by way of explanation," I began. "I was sitting in a corner at the Host's Tabard Inn back at Southwark, masticating on a bit of roast mutton and keeping pretty much to myself when in walked this motley group of pilgrims. I paid little attention to them at first, but when I overheard them discussing their trip to Canterbury and their intent on making it more interesting by having each person tell a certain number of tales, the best one receiving a rather grandiose meal, well, I just couldn't stay away. I would have come right out and asked them if I could join them on this rather long journey but I thought they might refuse me, seeing as they had enough people in their party already."
Oh, nonsense!" interjected the Knight. "Anyone who makes for good company is welcome to come with us."
"Thank you, sir," I replied politely. "I appreciate that. So as I watched everybody leave the Tabard and begin their journey I decided to follow close behind them. For a while I felt successful that I had followed them without appearing suspicious, but I must have somehow erred for the Miller spotted me and, well, you know the rest."
For a moment no one spoke, and I heeded the cheerful chirping of birds and the wind rustling through the treetops above. Finally the Host strode up to me, clapped a hand on my shoulder and said, "Tell me, young sir, are you any good at storytelling?"
"What?"
"Can you tell stories? Do you excel in that at all?"
"Well, I suppose I am. Yes, yes, I am. I can," I replied as earnestly as I could while masking the trepidation I felt.
"Then you shall be the next to tell us one."
I started. "You-you mean-"
He laughed. "Yes! Welcome to our company!"
A ringing cheer rose from the group. "I should have done this from the very start," proclaimed the Wife of Bath as she removed her voluminous cloak and hung it on my shoulders. "I cannot believe I almost let you freeze to death!" I smiled gratefully as everyone patted me on the back. I turned to the Wife of Bath and asked, "Won't you need this?"
She grinned, the gap between her front teeth clearly visible. "Pay me no mind, dearie. I have another."
"Now then," said the Host after gathering everyone's attention, "I suggest we carry on 'til we attain the next inn, where we shall dine and remain for the night, and then, after we've fattened him and us up some, will gladly heed this young man's tale." He winked at me and immediately I began to shape a story in my brain. "Then after this has been done," he resumed, "we shall all sleep and remain inside 'til after breakfast tomorrow morn, then resume our journey. All in favor?"
"Aye! Aye! Aye!" bellowed the pilgrims.
"Good, then let's be off." We all continued for the next hour to ride along the broad dirt road, and while everyone chatted animatedly with one another I remained silent. My ears pricked up when I heard my name mentioned, and a few of my fellow pilgrims sidled alongside my ass and attempted to engage in banter with me, only to take advantage of my reticence and end up doing much of the talking themselves while I half-listened. In truth my mind was still spinning like a dynamo as I strove to create a tale which, good or bad, satisfying or no, I needed to have prepared for the telling. It was still at work even as we attained the next inn, interestingly named 'The Boar's Tusks'. After we all had a hearty dinner and were gathered close to the hearth fire in the dining room my time had finally come, and so stood in front of the company and began by clearing my throat a few much times, as much to annoy the grunting Summoner as for better articulation. Then I really was ready, and so began my story...
DB/late 1990s or early 2000s(?).2017
