Ota's Tales

About an exceptional cactus - Cactus wants more

The sun burned everything in its path. There was nowhere to hide from it. Somewhere else a wanderer would have crawled under a branched treetop and rested. But here that was not possible, for all the vegetation here was shrubs and low plants. These, thanks to their elaborate strategies, were able to survive and reproduce. The plants had long roots and roots through which they could take groundwater. Almost all the flora protected themselves against the fauna with spines, thorns and barbs. However, even the few animals that lived here were prepared for these difficult conditions. One was surprised to see how everything lived in harmony here. But not everyone was happy with it.

In a fairly ordinary place, which was not interesting at all, there lived a cactus. Not the tiny cactus you know from your homes, but a rather large cactus. It was not unusual in appearance. It was green like all the other cacti in the area, and had several bodies that protected the sharp thorns. It was not advisable to test whether they were really sharp. Although it was no different in appearance from the others, it was still exceptional. While the rest of his kind were happy with the place and enjoyed life as much as possible, he was never happy. He wanted more from life.

"Oh, I wish I could fly like a bird or run like a fox. I wish I could at least crawl like a bug," the cactus complained. He wished he could be a fish, too, but he had never seen one. He wished he could be anyone else just to get up and leave. Every day he watched the landscape around him. He could sense any movement of a straw. He could even tell when mice or foxes were talking. He listened to them whenever he could. He envied them being able to move around. He asked them several times if they would take him and carry him a little bit. The mice and foxes refused. They knew the cactus would inadvertently sting them with spikes. "Then at least tell me a story. You must be familiar with life," the cactus begged the mice and fox, "I don't know anything. I'm still here."
But every time the mice started to tell a story, the foxes would come running and the mice would run to hide from them. The foxes were always too focused to tell the cactus anything. They would always say, "We can't now, we'll tell you something next time. Don't worry." So the cactus waited, but it never got there.

Once, before the fox came running, the mouse had finished telling him the whole story of how it had once lived in the next country. It spoke of a place behind a hill. That place was about five minutes' walk from the cactus. The cactus could tell from the mouse's story that the land beyond the horizon was exactly the same as it was here. It made him unhappy. He had hoped that one day he might at least look there. But now he learned that it was exactly the same. His dreams began to fade.

But the very next week, a camel that had wandered to the cactus brightened his day. The cactus had seen it for the first time in its life. It was all blown away by it. Such a huge animal. All it ever saw was mice and foxes. At once he shouted, "Hey, you there, come here and tell me who you are and where you come from!" The camel was exhausted. It had gotten lost in a sandstorm and was looking for its owners, people. But what it was looking for more was water. It had not drunk for ten days and was getting very thirsty. And even if camels can go without water for a long time, that does not mean they don't need it.
When the camel reached the cactus, it said, "They call me a camel. I come from far away. I got lost in the sandstorm and now I'm looking for them. I haven't drunk in a long time. Would you know where I could find a sip of water?"
Cactus answered questioningly, "Who are these people and what's it like up there?" The camel had no desire to talk now. It was tired and really thirsty. He just said, "I'll tell you everything if you give me a drop of water. I'm sure you've had enough and you won't mind sharing it with me." Cactus agreed. "Then take a bite of me. I'm juicy. But don't eat all of me," he said. "But where can I bite you? You've got spikes everywhere. I'd just prick my nose," said the camel. Cactus replied, "Wait a minute. I'll get rid of the barbs right away." But try as he might, he did not get rid of the spines. He didn't even notice, with all his effort, that the camel had gone.
When he realized this, he was angry at the spikes. It seemed to him that they were only aggravating him. Nor did they ever really save him. What does he have them for? For decoration? Then the cactus decided it no longer wanted to have spines. He decided that he would want to get rid of them in any way.

Each day he imagined he would drop the spines on the ground overnight. Every day he woke up thinking he didn't have them anymore. But nothing happened. They clung to him tooth and nail.

Then the others of his kind began to notice that he was behaving exceptionally strangely. They wanted him to explain to them what was happening, what was bothering him. They liked him after all, even though he was different.

Cactus told them everything. He told them that the spines were actually useless. He told them about the camel, about the people. About how much he wants to see people. About living in one place all their lives. He told them everything he could think of at that moment.

They all listened to him carefully. Then one of them said, "We know all this already. We know that we're going to live in one place all our lives. We know that we can't look anywhere else. But we don't mind at all. We just accepted it, and so should you. You can't fight it forever. And the barbs? Surely they must have a function, everything has a meaning." But they couldn't think of one at the time. So they asked the oldest of the cacti what the meaning of the barbs was.

The oldest of the cacti listened to the question and thought. He didn't answer directly. Only to the exceptional cactus did he say, "Accept who you are. Everything has a meaning, even if it seems to be missing so far." The others nodded to the oldest cactus and went back to their daily activities. They considered the whole thing closed.

But to the exceptional cactus the answer wasn't enough. He didn't even like it one bit. He was even more dissatisfied. He didn't even want to be a cactus now. He was ashamed to be among the others because they seemed too limited. They always agrees with the oldest cactus, and never thinks about anything. They didn't want to experience anything, and they just accepted everything. No, he didn't want to be like that, and he certainly wasn't going to be like that. He wanted so much to be someone else.

And he really began to notice, over time, that his spines were falling to the ground. Each day he had fewer and fewer of them on his bodies. Until one day he woke up with none at all. He was beside himself with happiness. He had done exactly what he wanted to do. He told all the cacti around. He said triumphantly, "Look, look, I don't have spines and I'm alive." They were taken aback by the miracle. But that was all. The cactus expected more admiration or interest. He wasn't satisfied with their reaction. "Don't you want to be like me? Look, you don't need spines. You can live without them. Try it, too. It'll change your life," he told them. But no one was so carried away that they wanted to be without spines. "I was born with spines, I'll die with spines," said one. "I'd feel like without a body part," said another. "You're still a cactus anyway," said a third, and they all laughed. The exceptional cactus kept his composure and replied, "But not for long. When the next camel comes, it will take me with it to the humans, and I'll no longer be like you. And that day will come."

And life went on at its pace. Foxes hunted mice, the sun burned the earth, flowers opened and closed their flowers again, and the exceptional cactus waited impatiently for the camel to come. It had gotten rid of the spikes, and it would not give up now. It thought it could do anything.