A Love Story. Or is it?

Someone asked for a story.

Photo by Echo Wang on Unsplash

I remember now. the story I often tell when I was younger to gauge the core of the people I'm with. 

This is a love story about a boy and a girl who lives on the other side of the mountain. 

There's always a love story about a boy and a girl. Isn't there?

Well here it goes;

Once upon a time... a boy and a girl fell in love but they each live on the other side of the mountain separated by a raging river. 

One day the boy sends the girl a message pleading for her to come see him as quickly as she can. 

She rushes out the minute she receives his message. 

It's morning but alas the raging storm the night before has rendered all forms of travel to the other side of the mountain impossible. Save for a boat that could ford the raging waters driven by this boatman. 

She rush to him and offers to double his fare. But all he asks of her to take her across is to ride in his boat without her clothes. 

She refuses at first but reluctantly obliges desiring to be with her lover, the boatman ferries her across unharmed. 

Upon reaching the other side naked, she makes her way to his house a distance away. On the way she runs into a priest. Thank god, please father give me a cloth, a blanket or a shawl to cover myself so that I may run to see my lover. 

The priest hiss vileness and casts her as the devil in temptation refusing to help her. She with no choice runs into the forest to hide her shame while  looking for his house. 

She runs into a woodcutter instead. The strong virile woodcutter thinking god has answered his prayers promptly has his way with her. And boy did he have his way with her. 

She all bloodied, muddied and naked managed to run the last lap all the way to his house. 

Her boyfriend looks at her with displeasure, disdain and disbelief to the extent that he disowns and discards her. 

Heart broken the girl runs the final lap back to the river and jumps to her death. 

Sad ain't it?  

Question: Now rank in the order of blame, in order of appearance; 

the boatman, 

the priest, 

the woodcutter, 

the boyfriend. 

Who is the one most to blame?  Who is second? Third? 

I will deal with each one of you if you care to participate in the ranking of blame, in the order of your response. 

You decide.

Stay tuned. Literally.