[Week 5] Storytelling - What Happened in the Well

Author's Note: I had trouble getting inspiration from the Turkish Tales unit, so I decided to try to rewrite a bit of The Imp of the Well from the wife's perspective. For those of you who haven't read it, the story begins with a man being followed by his wife after he tries to hide some money from her to buy himself a rope. The wife is unhappy and follows after and ends up falling into a well. The man tries to save her by dropping a rope down but he ends up pulling up the imp instead. 

(Illustration by Willy Pogany)

                A rope? A rope?! All of this happened because he wanted to buy a stupid rope?! I’m sitting at the bottom of a well, arguing with an imp, because my good-for-nothing husband was hiding money from me to buy a rope. Thankfully the imp keeps this place stocked like a normal home. There’s a kitchen of sorts with enough produce and salt to make a decent meal. A little bed made out of straw, and a shelf full of junk displayed like knick-knacks. How he got these things, I don’t know. Seeing as how I managed to trip into this well, I wouldn’t be surprised if people’s possessions fall in here all the time.

                You may be wondering why I’m arguing with an imp. Well, I did happen to land on him when I fell into the well. He’s fine, though, I barely hit him. Just crushed him a little bit. With my entire body. So he’s a little bit upset about that. But that wasn’t even my fault, it was my idiot husband’s fault. I also told him I’d cook up the veggies he’s been collecting down here for a nice dinner. He seemed appeased until he actually ate my delicious masterpiece of a soup. Complained that it’s too salty. Rude little shriveled up creature. We’ll see if I use any salt next time. He’s just like that husband of mine. Who, by the way, has yet to show that he even cares that his lovely wife is stuck at the bottom of a well with a terrible, hideous beast.

                Oh! A rope fell right before my very eyes from the opening of the well. I could faintly hear my husband shouting for me to grab hold of the rope. He didn’t forget me! He’s not entirely useless, I suppose! I try reaching for the dangling life-saver, but the imp slaps my hand away.

                “You crushed me, you used all of my food to make a disgusting, salty soup, and you think you deserve this chance at freedom?! I don’t think so. You’re just a miserable old hag, anyway.” The imp screamed at me as he got his grubby little fingers around the rope.

                I grabbed his entire body and threw him to the floor. “That’s my husband up there calling for me, not you! I’m a young, beautiful, talented maiden who doesn’t deserve to be trapped in a dark, dank, hellhole like this!”

                I must say my one and only flaw is my fiery temper. That’s what drew my husband to me in the first place, I think. Nobody can resist such a rebellious, independent woman. I would never even have thought of it as a flaw before, had this very interaction with the imp not taken place. I squeezed my eyes shut and stomped my feet while I ranted and raved at the little thing. When I finally open my eyes and took in my surroundings, all I saw was the faint figure of the imp being pulled up by the rope to freedom. Oops.

Forty-four Turkish Fairy Tales by Ignacz Kunos, with illustrations by Willy Pogany (1913).