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Apala was a difficult child, a boastful boy who liked to brag about anything and everything. Fortunately for him, no one paid him any mind, but bored out of his mind one day, he bragged to the wrong men. The king’s guards were gathered in town, and wanting to impress them with his boasts, he bragged, “I am a special boy!”

One of the guards looked at him strangely. “What is so special about you?”

“I can do amazing things!” he said, puffing up his chest proudly.

“What can you do?” he asked, wiping sweat from his brow with a black handkerchief.

“Absolutely anything!” he said again, adding, “I can wash the black right out of that cloth! I can make it white!”

Of course the boy could do no such thing, but his mouth ran in front of his mind, and he said things for no other reason than to have things to say.

The king’s guards laughed heartily. “No one can turn a black cloth white,” said the guard. Then, suddenly, they all went quiet and fell to their knees. The King walked up to them.

“What is so funny, men?” he asked.

The guard who spoke to the boy told him, “This young man says he is a special boy. He boasts that he can wash a black cloth and turn it white!”

“That is a special talent, indeed!” said the King. “White cloth is expensive. By the time a weaver weaves his cloth, it is stained and discolored. Pure white is a rare thing to have. Is this true, boy?”

Apala did not know he was speaking to a King, for when the King went out in public, he chose to dress as a commoner. He was a humble man, and was a man of the people. As such, he did not tolerate lies. “Yes, sir, it is!” boasted the boy again.

“Well, this is our lucky day!” said the King, smiling brightly. “For you see, son, I am the King, and if you can wash even the color black out of a cloth, leaving it white, you will save this kingdom a lot of money. Show me your talents! If you can do as you say, I will reward you handsomely.”

Apala stammered and stuttered. He had lied to the King.

“What’s wrong, young man?” asked the King. “Surely, you can wash the color out of cloth as you say. I don’t tolerate lies. Those who lie to me die for their dishonesty.”

Apala was afraid, and being a foolish boy, did not have the sense to back down. “No, sir, I would never lie to a king. I can wash even a black cloth, and turn it white.”

“Gather sixteen royal witnesses from the palace,” the King ordered his guards. “This evening, I will send this young man to the river, and I will send the witnesses with black cloth. If he can do what he says he can do, I will be a very happy king.” He looked sternly at the young man, “and if he cannot do what he says, I will be very angry.”

Apala trembled, and ran home to his mother.

“You said what?” she screamed at him. “Apala, you have gone too far. You are a braggart, a boastful boy who has no business every opening your mouth to anyone. And you lied to the King.”

“I’ll never do it again, I swear!” he cried, huge tears running down his face.

“You’re right; you won’t, because when he sees you can’t wash a black cloth white, he will kill you.” She cried and paced; this was her only son, and he was close to death. Then, she said, “I am going to see Elegguá. He will know what to do.”

“I must hide!” the boy said. “I can make myself invisible, and no one in the world will ever find me. I can stand right before the King and tickle his nose, and he will think it is only the wind. I can fly away, high up into the sky. I can . . .”

“Apala – shut up!” She screamed. “I’ve never met a boy as stupid as you. Shut up, and grow up!” There was silence. The mother had never spoken to him like this; and this was exactly what he needed to hear. So afraid was he at that moment that his tears went dry, and he only trembled in his shoes.

“Well, I can try to hide,” he said, not wanting to tell tall tales anymore.

“No. The King will look for you until he finds you. You spoke like a man, and now, you have to act like a man and accept your fate. Hopefully, Elegguá will help us.” She paused. “Where did the King tell you to go?”

“He told me to go to the river, mother.” He cried again. “I don’t know how to wash a black cloth until it is white. No one can do such a thing. I am going to die!”

“Not if Elegguá can help us,” she said.

The orisha smiled. “So that braggart boy of yours is in trouble? Who would figure?” he asked. Elegguá thought about the boy and his boast for quite some time, and said, “I will get him out of trouble this once. But I need 16 bolts of red cloth, 16 bolts of white cloth, and a jutía for myself. Can you manage that?”

“Yes, I will do anything for my son.”

“Then be quick about it. There is no time to waste.”

At the river, Apala stood with sixteen royal witnesses. The guards were there; they were ready to take his life if he lied about his skills. Apala’s mother stood with him, crying into the river, and Elegguá was there as well, wrapped in his 16 bolts of red cloth. But no one could see him except Apala and his mother. He was invisible to everyone else. At Apala’s feet were 16 bolts of black cloth sent by the King.

Elegguá whispered into Apala’s ear, “Tell them that is a lot of cloth, more than you have ever washed.”

“That’s a lot of cloth. I’ve never washed that much cloth before,” he said, trembling.

“Tell them that there is a limit to your power, and if you wash that much cloth at one time, it might use up all the power that you have,” Elegguá insisted.

“My powers have limits,” the boy said. “If I wash that much cloth at one time, I might lose my powers.” His voice wavered. Because no one knew Elegguá whispered in his ear, all the witnesses and guards thought his words were sincere, and they believed the trembling of his body and the wavering of his voice were sorrow over the possible loss of his powers.

A guard spoke up, “This is what the King sent for you to wash. It would cost him a small fortune to have all this bleached white. If you wash it white with a single bar of soap, he will be happy with that, I am sure.” He looked at the Apala, shaking pitifully. “And you will live.”

“Start washing,” ordered Elegguá.

To teach him a lesson, Elegguá made him scrub the cloth all evening and well into the night. He washed and wrung the fabric until his fingers were raw, and his hands blistered. When Elegguá decided he suffered enough, and learned his lesson, he began substituting the white cloth for the black. When the sun rose the next morning, all that remained were wet, white bolts of cloth; and Apala hung these from the branches of the trees to dry.

The witnesses were amazed. Apala looked at his hands. Washing through the night made them bleed.

“We will tell the King of this miracle,” said one of the royal witnesses.

“Quickly,” said Elegguá in the boy’s ear, “before anyone leaves, ask for the guard’s black handkerchief.”

“Sir?” he asked the guard. “Do you still have that black handkerchief?” Everyone stopped where they stood, and the royal witnesses watched and listened.

He pulled it from inside his shirt. “Yes. Why?”

Elegguá whispered in Apala’s ear again, “Tell him you think you used all your powers up on the 16 bolts of black cloth, and you want to give them one final test.”

“I think washing all the black cloth at one time destroyed my powers. I want to test them again.”

The guard gave him the black handkerchief. “Wash,” he said.

“And keep washing,” Elegguá told the boy, “For this is your way out of your lie. I want you to wash that cloth until the sun sets again. Do not stop, not even to wipe the sweat off your brow. If you do, I will replace all the white cloth with the black again, and the King will kill you. Do as I say, for when the King sees that, truly, you have no more powers, he will be happy with what you have done for him, and he will leave you alone.”

The boy washed. And he washed. And he washed. Elegguá wrapped the black cloth around himself, and he walked away. Until the sun set, the boy washed that one black handkerchief until his hands throbbed with pain. The witnesses, sorry that the boy appeared to have lost his powers, went back to the King to tell him of the miracle, and of Apala’s loss.

They delivered the 16 bolts of white cloth, and with that, the King was happy. He never asked Apala to wash again.

By day’s end, the boastful, bragging boy named Apala learned his lesson; in time his hands healed, but were scarred as a reminder of his youthful folly.

The boastful boy never bragged again.

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The following comments are for "The Brag of the Boastful Boy"
by OchaniLele

Explaining this piece.
Hi everyone!

I know . . . I know . . . once again I've been very absent from these pages; but you should all know that I'm here every evening, reading submissions and validating them for the page.

Anyway, this short story is another piece for my upcoming book, "The Patakis of Cuban Santeria." Some of you might know that patakis are the sacred myths of the faith, comparable to the stories of the ancient Greeks and Romans.

It is from my ninth chapter about the odu Osa, and is my retelling of a very short, traditional patakis found in that odu.

For those who are curious: Eleggua is an orisha, a god, and he is a trickster character like Loki of the Norse people, or Coyote of the Native Americans; and, he is also the sacred messenger like Hermes! Of course, that's his personality in a very abbreviated nutshell.

I wanted you guys to see a bit of what I'm working on, and about to wrap up for publication.

Comments and criticisms are always appreciated.


( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: April 24, 2009 )

Orisha Eleggua & MORE;-)
Very cool, so glad to see your book is coming along to completion... no critique, except to say, COOL--love parable type stories of this nature and you know how much I love comparative religions ideas and information. All I got left to say is that Eleggua has been very good to me;-)

Now that I am back from my retreat (with my son) from KTC Kagyu Tibetan Retreat and Monastary center in Wappinger Falls NY--I shall be posting some pics on here of my trip and also give a little brief on our very awesome trip. But not immediately, I am still dealing with puppy walking, and obedience training and all my other obligations.

I have stopped in and do love to stop in and read whenever I get a moment, but don't always have time to comment, like you, I am a busy petunia these days, but soon, like you too, I will get back into the swing.

Again, LOVE this story and your style;-)

Tashi delek!

You should make an announcement about the GREAT NEW FANTASTIC format and face changes coming to Lit.Org very very soon....yeah! Oh, I hope I didn't blow the surprise, but I am so excited about it I cannot contain myself, can hardly wait to see it come to fruition, in the meanwhile, back to my meditation for the day, just came back from a puppy walk;-)

( Posted by: TheRealKarmaTseringLhamo [Member] On: April 24, 2009 )

@ Lena
Thanks for the comments!

The face changes at litdotorg will be huge; however, they are still in the planning stages. I'm not ready to discuss them yet!

But rest assured: As soon as all is worked out, there will be huge announcements here and in the newsletter.


( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: April 24, 2009 )

Liar, Liar, pants on fire!
Loved this story's a good thing he didn't have Pinochio's problem...he'd hae been a gonner for sure!!


( Posted by: Beatrice Boyle [Member] On: April 25, 2009 )

re: Orisha
Interesting piece, with the feel and cadence of an old fable.

I know somewhat of Eleggua from my own readings, and I have an interest in the orisha. Am I right in thinking Eleggua is in some way related to Papa Legba of Haitian vaudou?

By the way, if you're interested in seeing the orisha represented in the context of a modern practitioner, you might want to look into William Gibson's novel 'Spook Country', which features them.

( Posted by: Beckett Grey [Member] On: April 25, 2009 )

Smooth Read
Interesting story so far. I usually do not read fables and such, but this one had a good introduction, and the action kept the story readable.

( Posted by: captainkeyboard [Member] On: April 29, 2009 )

@ Bea
Thank you so much for the comment! It seems all cultures have stories and fables aimed at teaching children that there ARE consequences for one's actions.

Now, if only we could get parents of all cultures to read these stories to their children at bedtime more often.

You know what? Almost everything I learned in life about how I needed to act appropriately were learned through the bedtime stories my grandmother and my aunt read to me at bedtime. And I'll bet that if someone did a study, they would find that children who are not read to are the ones who develop moral ambiguity (did I spell that properly?).

Anyway -- I'm glad you enjoyed the story!


( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: April 29, 2009 )

@ Becket Grey
You know what? That's a point Bryan and I argue all the time -- whether or not Eleggua of the Lucumi and Papa Legba of the Haitians are one and the same. One day I'll say they are and he will say they aren't, and the next day, I'll say they aren't and he will say they are. They share similarities, and I'll bet they share some of the same roots. But the cultural differences between the two are very vast when one makes an actual study of them.

This weekend, I think I'll order that book. Right now I'm on a quest to read absolutely everything Stephen King has written (I'm on Gerald's Game now), but I always have time for books such as those.

Thanks so much:

( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: April 29, 2009 )

PS @ Beckett Grey
Just so the previous comment makes more sense: Bryan is a houngan. He did his kanzo in Haiti about a year and a half ago and took asson.


( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: April 29, 2009 )

@ captainkeyboard
I'm glad you liked it, and I'm even more flattered since fables really aren't your thing. Thank you!

I noticed that you haven't posted around these parts since May 2008. As the new owner of litdotorg, I'd like to welcome you back. Don't be a stranger. We are on a dedicated server now, and the site runs very smoothly.

Plus, as my friend Lena already mentioned, soon there will be some massive upgrades coming that will make the site a lot more fun! But by soon, I mean by 2010.

Good to see you here!


( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: April 29, 2009 )

@ everyone else!
I got a lot of private emails about this piece, and I'm thankful for every single one I received.

Please, don't be afraid to offer these critiques publically. There were a couple that were very thoughtful, and one that actually prompted me to make a slight change in the story.

You guys are awesome! Tomorrow night I'm off work, and I'll be coding the newsletter. When I'm done, I have one more experimental piece from my book I will post here. It's very much a children's story, and presents a moral dilemma at the end of the story. It's one of my favorite. You guys will get to read it first!


( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: April 29, 2009 )

hi ochanilele
It is good to be back to read more of your stories. It merries my heart. I wish when i was on a sick bed i was able to read this, i would have dropped out of bed for quick recovery.

( Posted by: Dgreat [Member] On: May 13, 2009 )

You fell ill? When did this happen? And are you recovered now?


( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: May 16, 2009 )

The body is now sound! Thanks.

( Posted by: Dgreat [Member] On: May 18, 2009 )

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