Roberta Allen ~ Two Wise Women Talk About Lying

1

The Wise Woman of Elety was tak­ing her young grand­son along on a boat trip to Joramca, the island of flow­ers. This was the peak sea­son for the rarest blooms. Though she wasn’t sure they would inter­est him, she thought she’d take a chance. She had told him about the rarest flower, so bright it hurt one’s eyes to look at it, and the blos­som so big it dwarfs humans, and the flower that blooms only once every thir­ty-three years.

They were pass­ing the island of Uami when he asked, “Who lives there?”

Liars,” she replied. “Uami is the island of liars.”

What’s a liar Grandma?”

Someone who doesn’t tell the truth.”

What is truth Grandma?”

When some­thing is true, it’s the way things real­ly are in the world.”

Can we go see the liars?” her grand­son asked.

No, the island is so over­crowd­ed there’s not even stand­ing room. The liars are squeezed so tight­ly togeth­er they can bare­ly breathe but that doesn’t stop them from lying non­stop until their final breaths, so it’s very noisy. They die upright, crushed against each oth­er. The stench is unbear­able. Even though there’s no space for any more liars, they con­tin­ue to arrive, lured by false promises.”

Oh,” the boy said, as they drew near to the island of Joramca.

2

He must have a death wish, the Wise Woman of Omasa told her­self. Why else would her nephew, who was only eigh­teen, think of going to Tobun, which every­one knew was the island of insects. There were plen­ty of oth­er ways to impress his girlfriend.

Decades ear­li­er, a vio­lent explo­sion had dec­i­mat­ed Tobun. No one knows exact­ly what caused it, but the Omasians believe nature was tak­ing its revenge on the Tobunese for pol­lut­ing the land with waste of all kinds.

Only insects sur­vived and repro­duced like nev­er before, but they had mutat­ed. Their wings and anten­nae, legs and feet were deformed. Abnormal shapes and pat­terns made them almost unrec­og­niz­able. Spider webs were messy and chaot­ic. But what they all had in com­mon was size. Dragonflies had five-foot wing spreads. Many insects, six feet tall, were dan­ger­ous, some dead­ly, includ­ing mos­qui­toes, hor­nets, human bot­flies, bul­let ants, bees, scor­pi­ons and wasps.

What are you try­ing to prove?” the Wise Woman asked him. “No girl­friend is worth dying for.”

Of course, her nephew didn’t lis­ten. He was head­strong, so she decid­ed to use her pow­er to place an invis­i­ble wall between him and the shore of Tobun. When he tried to step foot on the island from his boat, he bumped into what felt like a sheet of glass, cool and smooth. Trying to go around it didn’t work. He couldn’t crawl beneath it or climb over it either. Feeling like a fail­ure, he was forced to return to Omasa.

What can I tell my girl­friend?” he asked the Wise Woman.

Lie,” she said, amused. “She won’t know the dif­fer­ence. Make up some insects you met. Tell her you killed them with your bare hands.”

I can’t do that!” he said.

Why not? It’s bet­ter than being eat­en alive!”

It’s wrong!” her nephew said.

Many things are wrong,” said the Wise Woman. “But some things are more wrong than oth­ers. It’s wrong to kill, to cheat, to steal, to tor­ture. What good will come from telling her the truth?”

Her nephew was silent.

~

A Tennessee Williams Fellow in Fiction and a Yaddo Fellow, Roberta Allen is the author of nine books, includ­ing three sto­ry col­lec­tions. The Traveling Woman and Certain People were well received in The New York Times Book Review. Her oth­er books include a nov­el, a novel­la-in-flash, a mem­oir and writ­ing guides. Well over two-hun­dred sto­ries have appeared in such mag­a­zines as Conjunctions. Also, a con­cep­tu­al artist in the col­lec­tions of The Met and MoMA, most of her works on paper have been acquired by The Smithsonian Archives of American Art. Her writ­ing papers have been acquired by the Fales Archive of NYU.