When the rancher who owned the land came there to fish, the turtle could not resist crawling up on a nearby log to sun himself and visit with the rancher. They talked about the weather and such. And whenever the rancher brought his family to the pond to picnic, Tom the talking turtle would carry on a lively conversation with the rancher's little boy and little girl. Tom asked them about the games they played, and then he told them about the games he placed when he was a little turtle.
Ah, it was so nice there in the lovely pond. Besides his human friends, Tom the talking turtle liked to talk to the cattle who came to the pond to water. He especially liked to talk to Angel, the big Brahma bull with the bellowing voice. "Hello," Tom would squeak. And then Angel the Brahma bull would snort and bellow so loudly it would rattle the leaves on the trees, "Hellooooo!" With a helloooo here. And a helloooo there. Here a helloooo, there a helloooo. Everywhere a helloooo-helloooo.
My, how Tom wished he had a voice like Angel the Brahma bull. Or even like that old bullfrog, Buford, who often took a morning swim with him. "Let's race around the pond, under water," Buford the bullfrog often teased. Then that old bullfrog would kick his powerful legs and swim around the pond five times before poor Tom could swim around it once. "Tom," Buford the bullfrog said with a deep-throated croak, "you talk a lot and you talk fast. But when it comes to swimming, you are as slow as a,...well, uh,...you're as slow as a turtle!" And then he would laugh and swim over to a lily pad, lie there watching for juicy incests to eat, and croaking loudly. With a croak-croak here, and a croak-croak there. Here a croak, there a croak. Everywhere a croak-croak.
Tom the talkative turtle slowly swam over to the far side of the pond to visit with his friends, the family of Mallard ducks. There was the father, Marvin Mallard. There was the mother, Mildred Mallard. There were two boy-ducks, Morris and Mickey Mallard. And there were two girl-ducks, Melisa and Melvonia Mallard. There were just like Tom the turtle in one respect, for they loved to talk. It was quack-quack here, quack-quack there. Here a quack. There a quack. Everywhere a quack-quack.
Now there was nothing that Tom the talkative turtle had rather be than a duck. He envied them because they could flap their wings and skim across the pond, or even take off and fly right off into the wild blue yonder. Tom tried to image how it would be to leap into the air and soar above the trees and hills. "Oh, how I wish I could fly," Tom often told whomever would listen.
Well, one summer he got his wish. When the warm days of June rolled around, the sun rose bright and brassy hot every single day. There was no rain the whole month of June, so the pond began to dry up because no new water ran into it. By the middle of July, there was still no rain. And the pond continued to dry up. What was left of the beautiful water had become green and slimy and stale. By the first day of August, the pond was down to a small puddle of water about the size of a blanket. And the sizzling summer sun baked the mud until it was got so hard it cracked.
Tom the talkative turtle was very worried. Just a couple of more days without rain and there would be no water, and turtles cannot live without water. Just then he noticed that the entire Mallard duck family had gathered together and were preparing to fly away. "Oh, please, take me with you"!" Tom begged. "I'll die if you leave me here in this mud hole because there is no rain in sight."
"I'm truly sorrow for you, Tom," quacked Marvin the Mallard duck. "But we must leave and find water ourselves."
"But I'm your friend," groaned Tom. "Please don't leave me."
Mrs. Mildred Mallard was touched by Tom's pleading and the tears in the old turtle's eyes. "Marvin, dear, isn't there some way we could take Tom with us?"
All of the young Mallards chimed in, "Yes, father. Let's take Mr. Turtle with us to that big lake across the mountain. Then we'll all have plenty of water to live in."
Marvin Mallard thought for a while. And then he pointed his right hand, er...I mean right wing, and said with flashing eyes. "Ah, haaaa! I have an idea that just might work. Maybe if we pick up that long stick over there in our beaks and Tom here clamps onto the stick with his powerful jaws, then we can flap our wings and fly from here to the big lake over the mountain. It would be dangerous, but what do you think, Tom?"
Tom thought it was a wonderful idea. "Oh, yes, let's do it. I do have powerful jaws. I take after my mother's side of the family, don't you know? And I know I can hold on long enough to get over the mountain and to the big lake. What are we waiting for?"
Marvin Mallard directed the operation. He and his wife, Mildred picked up the long stick with their beaks. Marvin was on one end while his wife held up the other end. Then the two boy ducks lined up next to their father and the two girl ducks lined up next to their mother. That left just enough room in the middle for Tom the talkative turtle to latch onto the stick with his powerful jaws. "Is everyone ready?" Marvin asked as best he could, with that stick in his mouth. "Let's go on three. One. Two. Three!"
There was a great flurry of feathers and the wind stirred up the dust at the edge of the mud hole. The Mallard Family flapped their wings with all their might. And slowly, ever so slowly, they lifted off the ground. "It's working! It's working" said Tom in a muffled voice, as he held tightly to the stick with his powerful jaws.
Sure enough, they lifted Tom up into the air. They went higher and higher until they were above the trees. They pointed east toward the distant mountain, for just beyond it was a large beautiful lake with crystal clear, pure water.
They had only gone about three miles when they passed over a town. And the people in the town began to notice this strange flight. "Look, mommy," said a little girl, "there's some ducks and a flying turtle." The girl's mother was busy and never looked up, but she said, "You have a wonderful imagination dear, but turtle's can't fly."
Farther across town, they flew right over the town square where lots of people were shopping and standing around talking. "George, look up there," said one man with his finger pointed toward the sky. "Look, a flying turtle!"
Instantly, dozens of people began looking up. And a newspaper reporter saw it and took a picture and yelled, "Mr. Turtle, tell me your name so I can put it in the newspaper. Tell me your name and I will make you the most famous turtle in the world."
Tom the talkative turtle strained one eye to look down toward the big crowd. "The most famous turtle in the world, huh?" Tom thought to himself. "That would really be nice."
About that time the crowd began to shout, "Mr. Turtle, please say hello to us. Tell us how you are able to fly."
Well, Tom the naturally talkative turtle could stand it no longer. He watched the crowd with that one eye, and then he let go of the stick when he opened his mouth and said, "Hellooooooooooooo!"
Poor old Tom fell from the sky like a rock. He plunged through the sky and the air rushing through his shell made a whistling sound as he tumbled toward the earth below. Fortunately, he landed in the top of a soft pine tree. Then he fell through the branches and landed right-side up on all four feet. But out of the corner of his eye he could see his friends, the Mallard Family, as they dropped that big stick and flew on toward the mountains that he would never, ever reach.
Now, if there is a lesson that we can all learn from this tale of Tom the talkative turtle, I guess it is this: When you start getting kinda puffed up and a little too proud of yourself, well, it's usually better to keep your mouth shut.
___________________________________________________________________ End.
This story may not be reproduced or performed without written permission from the author. (Based on a story outline found in Storytelling, by Norma J. Livo and Sandra A. Rietz [Libraries Unlimited, Inc., 1986], p. 73-74. )