THE SAFE HOUSE

Once upon the time there lived farmer Jim.
Farmer Jim was a simple man. He knew simple things but he knew them well.
He knew how to farm, so he farmed and he had cows and sheep and chickens and he never went hungry.
He knew how to make hides and leather, and so he had made clothing and he never went cold.
He knew how to work wood so he had build a large wooden house with windows of glass and golden straw roof and a tall chimney.
Farmer Jim was very proud of his farm. Most of all, farmer Jim was proud of his house. It was large and safe.
When people passed by they said, look at that great house that farmer Jim build.
Farmer Jim was very happy.

Then one day things have changed.
A fox came and ate his best chickens.
This was bad. Farmer Jim had to do something to stop the Fox.
There was no more wood around because all the wood around was used up to build a house. True, there was a forest over yonder. But farmer Jim feared that if he were to ride that far, he would not get back before sundown and then the fox would get the rest of the chickens.

Farmer Jim was a simple man but he was a practical man.
He ripped out all the boards from the veranda and build a palisade fence around the chicken coop. This was a good thing, because it was only a small inconvinience and things would be more secure. Now the fox would not come for there were sharp spikes close together all around the chicken coop.

Farmer Jim was safe because he had a nice house and the chickens were safe too.

The next night farmer Jim heard terrible screams.
When he run into the night brandishing a fork, he saw many dark shadows.
There was a smell of death in the air.
Farmer Jim was a stout man but he was a sensible man too.
He went back into the safe house to wait till the sunlight chased the shadows away.
The light of the morning shone upon the farm but it was strangely silent.
Many creatures were dead.
Wolves had got inside the barn and ate his horse and his best cows.
This was very bad. Farmer Jim dragged the left over carcasses and burried them behind the barn.

Farmer Jim had a few cows and sheep left still and he was resolute that no more wolves would harm his animals. He took the windowpanes from the house and placed them in the simple windows of the barn. He took the boards from the roof of the now floor-less veranda and boarded up all the gaps in the big barns. Then he took the boards from the roof over the kitchen and boarded up the big barn doors.
This was a good thing, because it was only a small inconvinience and things would be more secure. Now the wolves would not get inside the barn.

Farmer Jim was very proud. His animals were now secure.
The wolves and foxes came at night but could not touch the animals.
Then one night, when farmer Jim all but forgot about the foxes and wolves there was ruckus behind the barn. When farmer Jim came out from his somewhat safe house, he saw a sight that made him clasp the fork he held with the iron grip of a man who sees death itself. There behind the barn there was a fierce brown bear. Tall as a house, with maw lined with big white teeth like nails that glowed in the night like the bones of the dead. The bear tore open the pit where farmer Jim burried the remains of animals the wolves killed. Whats worse, the bear made a big gashes, slash slash into the walls of the barn. Stout thought the barn was, it would not stand against the bears attention. Farmer Jim screamed at the bear. Farmer Jim would later retell this story and in the story the shout would be a fierce shout. But truth be told, it was a scream of fear. Though farmer Jim had the wits about him to throw the oil burning storm lamp he held at the bear. Burning oil scattered and orange flames danced about like summoned guards. The bear roared in annoyance and lumbered off into the night.
Farmer Jim once again triupmhed.

Farmer Jim was growing smarter now. The menace of the fierce creatures terrorising his safe farm had to stop. Fire worked well so farmer Jim resolved to stand guard at night with a fire burning to scatter the fierce animals. Farmer Jim stood guard.
Night after night fires burned and every creature was safe.
When wood for the stove run out, farmer Jim took one look at the wooden house.
It was not much to look at, the veranda was torn down, the roof half gone and windows stared back at him like the empty sockets of a skull.
It did not take long for farmer Jim to resolve to use what else he could of the wood remaining in the house for the guard fires keeping the animals for terrorising him and his animals. This was for the greater good and the safety of all.
Farmer Jim was safe.
Every night he sat in the warm orange glow of the planks of his safe house.

Soon, winter came and brought with it cold winds and rain that fell like a river from the sky. The safe house was no more. Farmer Jim grew ill for lack of shelter and had to go to the monastery over the river where kindly nuns nursed him to health.
When farmer Jim came back, the animals were gone. Thieves and fierce creatures took apart what was left of his farm.

Farmer Jim still tells this story. You can buy it for a jug of mead at the inn in town. For mead and memories are the only things that farmer Jim has now.
Memories of the safe house he had and how much safer he had made it to stop the terror.