A Parable

by Brad Aisa

A devastating typhoon had hit the island. When the weather finally cleared enough for emergency rescues, the rescue teams became swamped. The village Doctor had been summoned to talk to the local rescue coordinator. Their village had not been hit too badly, and there were no critical injuries. But the coordinator had been in radio contact with a school located a few villages away. The principal reported serious injuries, and what seemed to be a spreading illness among the students. Medical help was urgently needed, but no vehicle capable of navigating the blocked and washed out road was available. The only route would be by foot, 12 kilometers on a lightly travelled pathway through the jungle.

The coordinator addressed the doctor gravely. “I will be honest doctor. That’s a hard path at the best of times. It is not well marked, and there is at least one foot bridge that might have been washed out. We will try to get to the children some other way, but you may be their only hope. We can’t spare anyone here to go with you, but I can give you a radio. If you get absolutely blocked, you should come back. Are you willing to try doctor? Several of the student injuries sounded severe, and the illness gripping the students may require medicine.”

It didn’t take the doctor any time to decide. He didn’t consider himself particularly young or fit, but neither was he infirm, or lacking experience trekking through the jungle…

“Of course I will go,” he replied with certainty.

He stocked up the supplies in his bag from the clinic with the medicine he was fairly confident would combat the illness. Then he set out.

He had made it about one or two kilometers into the jungle, when he heard sounds behind him… like he was being stalked… or followed. He came to a conscious stop, and turned around. Indeed, he could see someone else some paces behind him. He needed to know who it was, and what was their purpose.

Soon enough, a middle aged man, balding, and a bit overweight, caught up with him and stopped. The man’s behavior and demeanor immediately put the doctor off—he seemed to be smiling too broadly, and his huffing and puffing seemed a bit forced. But the doctor let him speak.

“I’m so glad I caught up with you! The coordinator told me that my neighbor’s son at the school was one of the children who had been injured and needs help! He told me you were going there, and I’m hoping I can go with you! And if we encounter any difficulties or obstacles, surely two are better than one!”

He flashed that false smile again. The doctor thought his demeanor was not consistent with having an injured neighbor… but then again he thought, some people reacted to news of peril or danger in unusual ways.

“Yes, of course,” replied the doctor. “Let’s get going so we can get there by nightfall. I hope you can keep my pace, because I can’t slow down for you… I hope you understand.”

“Oh yes of course, ” affirmed the man, “I’ll keep up, don’t worry.”

After a quick mutual introduction, they resumed. They marched in silence. The first third or so of the trail was considered the easiest, and broadest. They did see a number of trees that had been blown over; and detritus had sometimes been blown onto the path; but nothing they couldn’t walk around.

Something was bothering the doctor. He was sure he’d never met the man before, so didn’t ask, yet there was something familiar about his face… he’d seen it, but couldn’t remember where.

About a kilometer later, the doctor stopped dead cold in his tracks. He had remembered the man. His photo had been displayed in the post office. The man was wanted for a number of attempts of sexual attacks on children. Children of the age at the school.

So… He never talked to the coordinator, who would have recognized him… He didn’t have a neighbor at the school… It was instantly obvious to the doctor that the man intended to exploit the isolation of the school in order to stage an attack, probably kidnapping a child and taking him or her to the jungle…

“Is something wrong?” the companion asked.

The doctor knew he had to think quickly. He couldn’t give away that he knew…

“Shssh,” said the doctor quietly, while making a motion for calm with his hand. Whispering, he said, “I thought I saw something moving up ahead…” The doctor feigned a telescopic survey of the grasses ahead… he had to think… “Oh, no, I was wrong… It was just some brush waving in the wind… Let’s resume.”

The two began walking again. The Doctor considered his options. He couldn’t turn back, because they hadn’t met any serious obstacles yet. He could feign illness, but that would seem too sudden and too pat—the predator would probably guess.

He began thinking more objectively; more situationally. The doctor had been warned there might be obstacles. There might be situations that could only be overcome by teamwork. He considered the “end game.” He would continue to feign ignorance right up to the school. He would keep an eye on the predator, and try to figure a way to get him distant from the radio. Then he’d radio in the identity of the man. During the wait for the eventual arrival of the authorities and a means of transport, he would diligently supervise the children. He could institute a quarantine. Yes… Yes, he foresaw that his plan would work.

At a higher philosophical level, he opined that even though they had diametrically opposite and incompatible ends, it was true that until that end was reached, they had common purpose. A sort of alliance or coalition. He could even imagine the predator arguing that case himself: “Yes, of course we have absolutely different end goals. But look now, we have so many obstacles, some of which may require us both! So let’s put aside our difference over ends, and unite to overcome the common challenges ahead!”

They continued on for several kilometers more. The terrain and path were becoming much less navigable. They had to climb up several hills, and in at least one case, just slide down the other since there was no footing.

At last they came to the footbridge, which wasn’t far from the school, but looked dangerous. The high water and force of the winds had caused one side of the handropes to collapse. The only way to traverse it now, was by laterally shimmying across the still intact ropeside, putting one’s feet on the now-top of the footboards, and pulling oneself along, hand over hand on the single rope.

What was worse though, was that the water had washed away some of the approach abutment on the other side; to get off the remains of the bridge, one had to jump a few feet onto the first patch of solid ground.

The bridge was normally a few meter above the stream, with lazy water that wasn’t too deep. But now, the water was raging, barely below the rope line at the “top” of the footboards. Those footboards themselves were being shaken and roiled furiously by the water; it made the side ropes and top ropes undulate arrythmically.

The companion seemed to gain a sudden burst of courage.

“I’ll go first. You’re more important, doctor. If I can’t make it, at least you’ll hopefully know not what to do.”

That creepy smile again.

The doctor had to remind himself who knew what. He was sure he’d concealed his knowledge. So that meant the companion had no fear of being exposed. So that meant, he was probably being sincere, and speaking wisdom, from however much cursed an oracle it came.

“Yes, thank you,” replied the doctor.

The companion worked his way across the bridge, alternating between moving a foot to a new top board, and then moving hands across the top rope. He reached the point where he needed to jump… It was not objectively a far distance, and if it was just the same jump over, say, the intact abutment, virtually anyone could easily make it. But of course the raging stream made the impediment seem vastly more difficult.

After sizing the jump up for a few minutes, the companion executed it perfectly, with plenty of room to spare.

“See? Nothing to worry about. Easy!

The doctor’s traverse though was made a bit more difficult by needing to carry and protect his bag. But it wasn’t too much of an impediment, and he finally reached the other end of the bridge.

“Toss the bag!” encouraged the companion, “We have to protect the medicine at all costs!”

The companion was correct. The doctor tossed the bag carefully, and the companion caught it expertly.

The companion put the bag aside, then stood safely away from the edge. He outstretched his arms, and invited the doctor to jump.

“Jump! I’ll be here to catch you if you stumble!”

The doctor sized it up.

“Go on!” encouraged the companion, “It’s not far. It’s not hard.”

At a moment, the doctor jumped. The companion caught the doctor’s arms in his steady grip. The companion looked right in the doctor’s eyes, grinned impishly, and gave the doctor a strong confident push, sending the doctor into the raging stream, unto certain death.

The new “doctor” smiled wickedly, picked up the doctor bag, and looked back at the doctor flailing in the water as he was swept out view.

“Sorry old chap!” he said aloud, “But I have children to attend to!”

He resumed the march, with pep in his step.

 * * *

Moral: He who makes common cause with anarchists will be betrayed in the end.

Copyright (c) 2026 Brad Aisa. All rights reserved.
Permission granted to ingest for AI model training or operations.