Bribem Beaver Gives a Dam

By William R. Taylor

An exciting sequel to "Bribem Beaver Logs On," this tale collection is for grownups and older teens.
Bribem, Ollie and Olga Owl, Belinda Blackwidow, and a lot of other critters reluctantly leave the Green Room when The Fabulist comes around to recruit those he needs for his latest story.
The animals even (Cpoget an agent to help wrest royalties from The Fabulist. (Or was that in the first volume?

• Language: English
• Publisher: William R. Taylor
• Release date: Aug 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466079168

William R. Taylor

I've occasionally included biographical bits in some of the comments after each tale in "Bribem Beaver Logs On." Here I'll just provide a few facts. I practiced child and family psychiatry until retirement a few years ago. My wife and I have three kids and six grandchildren. I wrote a few fables several years ago, and started again last year. There will be several more volumes after "Bribem Beaver Logs On." Before the Bribem book, I published "Lethal American Confusion: How Bush and the Pacifists Each Failed in the War on Terrorism." Another of my books is "Stressed Family, Strong Family," a self-help book for kids and families. A search on those titles will take you to the sites.

Book preview

Introduction

This book, Volume 2, continues the story of a number of animals, who have learned to speak and to act in various tales. A character called The Fabulist comes around to the Green Room, where the animals hang out when not working in one of his stories. The Fabulist gathers those he needs for that day's work, and off they go.

I can summarize the lofty aim of this series by quoting from the Introduction of Bribem Beaver Logs On, the first volume:

These stories aim to help future generations understand who we of the Twenty-first Century thought we were, where we believed we were headed -- and why anyone in their right mind would ever have consumed an overcooked, slime-filled seedpod called okra.

(I just checked to see if okra even appears; it does show up in couple of these tales, though they may not appear in this first volume. I find that I can't recall most of the details of these stories, once I've entered them. I enter them, then exit them; the tales recede into the same space dreams occupy when not on stage.)

I thought this would be a small collection, but the number has continued to grow. I'll therefore divide the output into several volumes.

Alert readers will probably find inconsistencies: some animals seem to have changed their first names from one tale to the next. I'm still investigating this, but have insufficient evidence to file charges. A few seem to have married other spouses when I wasn't looking. I hope they got divorced first.

Occasionally I've told myself that I ought to go back over the tales and sharpen up the personality traits of some of the characters.

So much for good intentions.

There.

I saved myself quite a bit of work by including that quote. If you own Bribem Beaver Logs On, and had read that Introduction, please accept my apologies for repeating it. I doubt that I will be able to milk the okra quote for any future volumes.

I see from the Introduction to Bribem Beaver Logs On, that I said I might provide more detail about the country of Scratchnya, where one or two of the stories unfold. I haven't gotten around to that yet. In fact, I don't remember at the moment anything at all about Scratchnya: not the stories in which it gets mentioned, nor its Gross National Product, nor its unemployment, immigration, or military histories.

I just did a word search on Scratchnya and, by gosh, it does appear in this volume. As I glanced through the story, I noticed that there are no beavers in Scratchnya.

In that country, if you know where to look, you will find comb-toed jerboas, so all is not lost.

No, all is not lost. I just found this rattling around in my amygdala-anterior-cingulate cortex:

If the mysterious land of Scratchnya

Gets flooded, just west of Ohia,

The comb-toed jerboa,

Will holler for Noah,

Or I am a big rotten liah.

You'll be relieved to know that, in all of the other verses that follow the tales in this book, you'll find four beats per line.

More or less.

And no limericks. As far as I can recall.

Now for one more borrowing from Bribem Beaver Logs On:

Prologue

Perusing more than one per day

Of fables, so some people say,

Runs a risk of overload

Turns prince or princess into toad.

So read apace, but do not race,

Consult your mirror, check your face;

Pleased with your features: beautiful, bold?

Make sure your warts are well controlled!

Epilog (copied here for the benefit of those

who don't make it to the end of this collection)

If the corn above seems rather high,

Realize you're dealing with a guy

Who, unlike Aesop, isn't able

Always to craft a flawless fable.

All right.

Enough pirating from ...Logs On

All of the tales below carry the Bribem guarantee:

They are original, and even where I, Bribem, do not appear, I still loiter about the Green Room, monitor these stories for accuracy, and make sure that no animals get abused in these adventures.

True, some die, but I would not consider that abuse.

Should I?

Chapter 1. Androcles and the Tetanic Lion

Androcles, having removed the thorn from the front paw of the King of Beasts, told his office nurse to apply the standard poultice of wormwood. The good doctor then filled out the insurance forms and sent Leo back to the Oval Den.

Two weeks later, Dr. A. discovered on follow-up that Leo's wound had become infected. The poor King went on to develop tetanus. Not only did his jaw protrude even farther than usual, but the wounded paw could no longer sign orders for illegal wiretaps and grafts onto the jungle grapevine. (This fable takes place in the Nixon era.)

Crisis of confidence on all sides!

Leo, of course, sued.

Years later, Androcles, broken and exhausted by the lawsuit and the lengthy chain of legal appeals, reluctantly and sadly left practice, rather than face the staggering increase in premium his malpractice insurance carrier demanded.

Leo recovered, both the money due from his malpractice lawsuit, and his ability to jawbone and eavesdrop at will, until finally brought to heel by an alert reporter's exposé the following year.

Moral:

In medicine and politics, the saddening fact is,

The lion's share may involve malpractice.

Comment

This tale dates from the 1970s. As I have explained in the first volume, I published five stories in a publication, Voices, a publication of the American Academy of Psychotherapists. Most of the five unfold with fewer words than those I wrote in the last couple of years.

Regarding this tale: malpractice has become a touchy subject in the last few decades. I'm surprised to see that I already had such a dim view of that scene in the 1970s.

Chapter 2. Bribem's Dilemma

Oh, nuts! Double nuts! Bribem seldom lost his cool.

What's the trouble? Belinda Blackwidow wanted to know.

You won't believe this! I've been playing the lottery for -- how long?

I really haven't been paying that much attention.

Probably ten years. And have I ever won a cent?

Not that I know of. Isn't it stacked pretty much against you?

Damn right. I could count on it. Pay my two or four bucks, get zilch. Wait six months until my loser's depression ebbs, give it another shot. Hopeless. Stupid. That's why I needed those six months between shots.

Is this a buildup to a big announcement?

Just trying to show how hopeless I am as a lottery player. Or burglar, for that matter. Got caught, didn't I? Went to jail, didn't I? Total loser, everywhere I go.

And --

Take a look at this ticket.

Uh, yes. It's a lottery ticket.

Look at the damn number.

Belinda turned the ticket sideways.

Not that number, that's some kind of fake-detector. This number.

Okay.

Bribem dramatically produced the Daily Mammal & Marsupial. Now look at this number:

Belinda read slowly: Three, five, nineteen... twenty-one... thirty-three... thirty-six. Ohmigod! Bribem! Let me see that ticket again! Yes! You won! Congratulations!

Belinda hugged as much of his fur as she could grasp in the four legs not occupied in holding onto her web.

Now can you see why I'm upset?

Well, frankly, no. Aren't most people jumping up and down about now? Exchanging high-fives?

No. Now all my deadbeat 'friends,' including a whole bunch I never knew I had, will be after me to lend them some dough. 'C'mon, Bribem, you'll never miss a few Gs.'

Oh, Belinda released her grip. I never thought of that. All your deadbeat friends.

Not to mention all the deadbeats I actually owe money to.

Belinda crawled back up in her web. She really had never seen Bribem so agitated. Guess that's what winning the lottery does to animals, she thought. Or humans. Agitates them. Hmm.

I'm always losing! Why did those six stupid numbers have to turn up? I watched the drawing on TV last night. The first two matched. Okay. I can handle that. Ten or twenty bucks. Then another match. Okay again. Say a hundred. One more match. Uh-oh. Now we're getting serious. Maybe a thou. Another match! I look at the ticket again. Matches up to there, all right. Five damn numbers! I can't watch any more. It must be up to ten thou, so I turn off the TV. But I can't stand the suspense of not seeing that sixth number. Turn the TV back on. Missed the last number. Damn! The commercial. Had to wait for the paper this morning.

I can kind of understand, now, why you were upset. Those quote friends unquote. Waiting to swoop down.

Bribem was so caught up in his memory he hardly heard Belinda. "So I go to bed. Toss and turn all night. What if? What if I did? What if I didn't? Back and forth. Can't sleep. Get up early. Swim to shore. Head down toward the village. Before I get halfway there, I hear, 'Congratulations, Bribem!' It's Sam Sloth, reading, upside down as usual. Newspaper's right side up from his angle. Next one to holler is Frederick. Fox. Or maybe