Storytelling for Week 10: How Jake Lost a Race to Rock and Cicadas

How Jake Lost a Race to Rock and Cicadas

Jake had to walk uphill to his high school every weekday and he hated everything about it. Every day the sun beat down on him and had him sweating halfway up the climb. His book-laden backpack hung heavy on his shoulders and pressed his sweaty T-shirt against his clammy backside. The worn soles of his tennis shoes evinced the toll the daily trek had taken on his feet, which were always sore every time he reached the hilltop.

Then there were the cicadas. Every day the cicadas sang their morning song, and Jake’s teeth ground together in annoyance with every monotonous note.

One day after school Jake was standing at the hilltop preparing to descend when he saw a cicada sitting upon a boulder. Jake raised his foot high in preparation to stomp it, but the cicada flew off before  Jake could kill it.

“Stupid cicadas,” Jake muttered as he made to head downhill.

“The cicadas don’t like you either, jerk,” a voice said, the low, gravelly tone coming from the direction of the boulder.

Jake glared at the boulder. “Who asked your opinion, stupid Rock!?

“Nobody ever asks us rocks’ opinion, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have things worth saying, youngster," Rock said.

“Sure, sure,” Jake said snidely, stooping down to poke at Rock.

“I’ve been on this hilltop for decades,” Rock said. “I have seen more in my long life than you will ever see, and know more stories than you will likely ever know.”

“Yeah, so what?” Jake said, poking Rock again.

“So . . .” Rock began, a hint of impatience now tinging his voice, “the sum of a person’s wisdom can be determined by the number of stories he knows, for what are stories but microcosms of experience that teach us about the nature of life and the good and bad ways it can be lived?”

“I don’t know what you just said, but it sounds stupid, Rock” Jake said.

Rock sighed heavily. “Then why don’t we create a story of our own?”

Jake stared at Rock, arching a brow. “How?”

“A race, my angsty friend,” Rock said.

“A race? With who?”

“With me of course. Whoever reaches the bottom of the hill first wins.

Jake laughed. “Are you forgetting that you’re a rock, Rock?”

“We rocks can be quite speedy in the right context.”

Jake stood up and crossed his arms. “You just want me to get all sweaty running downhill, don’t you?”

“There’s no stopping this story now that I’ve decided to start it,” Rock said. “Whether you choose to run or walk, I’m going to win this race.”

Jake shook his head incredulously and began to jog downhill. He did not want to look silly by sprinting down the hill, but there was something in Rock’s tone that made him feel that it might be smarter to jog.

When Jake was halfway down the hill he looked back up the incline and saw that Rock had still not moved. Gritting his teeth in anger for being fooled by the boulder, Jake decided to walk the rest of the way down the hill.

Jake had not even taken three steps when he felt a rumble beneath his feet. Looking uphill again, he saw that Rock was rolling down at incredible speed. Yelping in surprise, Jake began to dash downhill, worn soles slapping hard against the grass as he sought to reach the bottom before the boulder could catch up.

The rumble grew louder until Jake could hear it over his own ragged gasps and the thunderous beats of his heart. He willed his feet to go faster, but there was no outpacing the rolling Rock. Rock surged in front of Jake and hurtled toward the foot of the hill.

When Jake reached the bottom, Rock was still rolling for a long time before finally settling several feet away. Panting Jake trudged over to where Rock now sat.

“H—how did you?” Jake said, breathless.

“It only takes a little bit of a push to get a rock sitting on the edge of a hill rolling,” Rock said.

“But . . . but—”

“But nobody was there to push me?” Rock interrupted. “What about those much hated cicadas of yours? You may deem them your enemies, but having been on this hill a long time, they have become my longtime friends and companions. Rather than growing to hate their song, I have come to appreciate the beauty of its nuances, and through it their people as a whole. It was them who gave me the push I needed to secure victory.”

Jake shook his head. “You're lying.”

“Believe what you will, young one,” Rock said, “but whether you acknowledge it or not, this is the day a man lost a footrace to a rock and cicadas. My sitting here at the foot of the hill will be a testament to this story long after you are gone.”

Jake went away and tried to forget the events of that particular day, but every day he went up and down the hill to school he couldn’t help but look at Rock and remember that race that he had lost. So too could he not listen to the cicada song and feel the same way he used to about it. Although the sound still grated on his nerves, he began to feel an odd appreciation for it. Perhaps this was the wisdom Rock spoke of, a wisdom gained through being part of a story.

Author's Note: This is based on the story in the British North American unit entitled "Wolverene and Rock." In the original Wolverene teases a rock about the fact that he cannot move, but the Rock states that he is capable of rolling. The mischievous Wolverene starts to race downhill and Rock rolls after him and eventually catches up and shmooshes him. Woverene calls for help to his brother Thunder and Lightning and Rock ends up blasted into a million pieces while the wolverine gets his fur coat torn to pieces. In my version I kept the central idea of a character racing Rock downhill, but gave it a modern context and replaced Wolverene with a rambunctious teenager named Jake. The cicada thing was a random idea that came about since I thought the setting of the story should be a hot spring day, which for whatever reason made me think of cicadas. The story ended up being quite different from the source material, and I thought it was fun to explore some different themes from the original.

A rolling stone gathers no moss . . .  and is pretty handy in a downhill race besides (Wikipedia, picture taken by Kate Ter Haar, 2010)

Bibliography Information

Book: Myths and Legends of British North America

Author: Katharine Berry Judson

Year Published: 1917

Web Source: Un-textbook