Johnny Cash was building a tall post-and-pole fence on his property when Genghis Khan rode up on one of his horses. Reaching Johnny, he dismounted and studied the fence. It struck him as straight and sturdy, the kind of work expected to last.
“You
have some skills,” Khan said. “Is the fence meant to keep things in or to keep
things out?”
Johnny
Cash nodded toward the horse. “I need to hold a pair of those inside.”
Genghis
Khan smiled at that. “Our Mongol war horses carried us to victory, but two horses
would never do. Each warrior rode three to five horses in rotation, so no
single mount was worn down while crossing long lands.”
Johnny
grinned. “I’m not planning any conquest beyond the fence.”
“I
understand. There is no need. Our achievements already stand,” Genghis Khan
said. “What do you consider your greatest success?”
Johnny
didn’t pause. “That’s easy. My love and partnership with June Carter.”
“You
fell into her burning ring of fire.”
“Happily,”
Johnny said. “And it centered me.”
They
talked a while longer as clouds slid overhead. At length, Genghis Khan swung
back onto his horse and rode off beside the stretch of newly completed fence,
the posts standing straight behind him.
—Mitchell
Hegman
No comments:
Post a Comment