PARABLE OF THE BROOK TROUT
Copyright 2013, Antisense Conscience
Brook Trout are a tribe embossed with the intricate patterns
of natural design clear on their scales. No other tribe than the
trout can parse the meaning, and the trout themselves hardly understood their own markings. Historical recollections of the most learned among them concluded that the patterns were just an inherited mix of random pigments and
scales.
Brook Trout, who refer to themselves as The Fish, live in
freshwater streams; isolated from all the terrestrial and marine organisms that
range the globe. Thus, their more
worldly cousins often think of Brook Trout as a little wet behind the
ears. The main vocations of The Fish include eating
and courting the strongest, fittest mates.
This obsession with mate fitness made the trout society large and
formidable in their habitat, but left little time for development of substance
and depth in their culture.
The Fish aren’t particularly interested in religion,
evolution has served them well. They
don’t partake in activities that induce trances or pursue vision quests. However, all higher fauna are prone to
unexplained experiences when racked by fever, what some may call hallucinations and others call
revelation. One
poor young trout suffered a fever so severe that the water around her head came
to a vicious boil. After days of listless
floating, and her parent’s unwavering attentions, the poor girl’s fever broke,
and the message that returned with her to this world was soon on the lips of
all trout.
She recounted a visit from the Creator, a Brook Trout so
large that when it spoke all the streams of the world spilled forth. All the trout tribes swam their hardest
against the current in order to leap back into the Creator’s mouth. The Creator said to the girl, “Your tribe has
grown strong, but no matter how hard or long you swim upstream you will never
again reach the safety of my protection or infinity of my wisdom. Only by devoting your souls and minds to my
calling will you one day find a map through the spirit world written on your
own scales that will bring you back to your creator.”
None of The Fish elders recalled ever hearing such a tale,
nor had anyone ever thought of their creation, that is beyond their ancestor’s
spawning. In that case, no one had ever
questioned why they swam upstream to spawn at all. And the patterns on their backs just always
seemed attractive, not informative. What was this message written on their own skin?
This revelation brought all these unanswered, needless to say
unquestioned, quandaries into clear focus for the elders and many of The Fish
citizenry. They formed a council, the
first ever council on any issue, to consider how to approach this new
knowledge. The deliberation was quick
and the word spread far and wide. They must learn to read their patterns
and send the strongest and bravest among them to find the Creator so that all
The Fish may find His glory.
Every citizen became fixated on the patterns at the expense
of all other activities. Theories and
speculation abounded. Some turned their
hobby of looking for pictures in the clouds to interpreting every line and
smudge in the backs of swimming trout. They
would accost unwary passersby and force them to stay still for hours while
their patterns were philosophically debated.
Others took a more scientific approach, assuming that the patterns were
direct reproductions of streams of the world.
They developed the idea of map scale, not the same as scales on their
backs, and measured distances and directions they hoped could be swum. When the best ideas and maps had been
compiled the elders called together the strongest and bravest of The Fish. Each was sent with a copy of a different map
back to the Creator, and was tasked with returning within one month to lead
their people home. The explorers were
sent off with much fanfare and excitement, and all believed the creator would
soon be found.
After one month none of the explorers had returned, and The
Fish chalked it up to unforeseen obstacles that were being overcome as they
spoke. After two more weeks still none
had returned, and all became more anxious for their loved ones' returns. Many weeks later one of the explorers returned, emaciated and incomprehensible, he had found nothing but hardship and
constant threat.
With their strongest and bravest now lost, the elders
announced that The Fish needed to redouble their efforts at finding the true
map through the spirit world. They
concluded that strength and bravery had failed them, so their obsession with
mating based on fitness would not suffice.
They encouraged everyone to begin looking for mates whose patterns
complimented their own, so their offspring may one day, after one or many
generations, carry the map they longed to acquire.
Much time went by, with some constantly trying to read
other’s scales and patterns and some constantly searching for a mate whose
offspring would include the chosen one.
Through the generations the patterns on the backs of Brook Trout became
more intricate, distinct, beautiful, and most importantly interpretable. While the scholars thought many times they
had succeeded, and were definitely getting closer, their failure to find the map continued.
Unforeseen consequences manifested in the
population. The strongest and bravest
had been used up unsuccessfully long ago, so they produced none of the
fit progeny of the past. The scholars
spent so much time reading patterns that they hardly bothered to spawn any longer,
they were simply too busy, which gave them all constant headaches. Many simply gave up on swimming upstream to
spawn. The revelation of the Creator’s words left them discouraged that
swimming upstream had no point if it would not get them nearer to His
perfection. The ones who did spawn did
so only for enhancement of patterns, and patterning had no correlation with
strength and fitness. As the generations
progressed the young were ever weaker and less fecund. Thus, the once great and formidable Brook
Trout were dwindling in population size.
One day, after much work and effort towards their goal, two
Brook Trout looked at each other’s backs and knew that the combination of their
spectacular patterning must result in the birth of the messiah they
long awaited. They left their home one
shinning spring day and swam upstream together, spawning at a beautiful spot
under a spreading river birch on the banks.
Neither had ever successfully reproduced before with others, but their
union resulted in the birth of just one young trout.
Unfortunately, the parents never met their only child, for after
spawning they were weak and succumbed to the pressures of the world.
By instinct the child set off downstream in a vain attempt to find others of
his kind. As much as he searched there
were no other Brook Trout to be found in the streams of his watershed, but he wasn't completely sure because he didn't know what Brook Trout looked like. He had never seen himself, except for the tip of his tail when he bent over as far
as he could. But as luck would have it
one day the sun shone brightly and at the right angle and he caught his
reflection off the surface of the stream.
His back was covered in a magnificent pattern, intricate with detail,
and certainly containing a message he thought, perhaps a map to his people.
The young trout wanted to understand this map, was compelled
for some reason, and tried every day at the same time and place to see his
reflection in the surface. After many
weeks of analysis, one day the boy saw his reflection and like a flash of
lightning realized what the map on his back showed and how to find the Creator. At that same instant an Eagle swooped down at
break neck speed from its hiding spot high in the sky directly in front of the sun. Eagle sunk his claws into the soft flesh of
the trout and carried him swiftly upwards towards the sun, where the trout met
his maker.
Note: This story was inspired by the conclusion to “The
Road” by Cormac McCarthy, who writes that Brook Trout have “vermiculate”
patterns on their backs that are a map of the world.
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