The Fool sat in the belly of the whale for a long time. Waves of water would flush through and toss the Fool around. He would end up in a pile of wet, slimy, dead fish.
One day a light appeared and the Fool moved towards it. A fanged fish that was all face with a little glowing antenna snapped at him. The Fool got as far on the other side of the belly as he could from the deep-sea monster. It kept snapping its jaws at the old man. The Fool was weary of being in this belly any more, but didn’t know how to proceed. He picked his way through the whale’s collection of parts of ships and things that have fallen off ships.
The belly suddenly went vertical, and the Fool fell to the bottom. Then the belly’s walls began to ripple in huge waves that carried the Fool away from the bottom and up towards the top. The walls of muscle pressed down on him, creating a vice of pressure that made him feel like he would explode if it got any tighter. Then he shot up through a fleshy tunnel and into bright light.
He was launched into the air and he flew over water and then over land. He saw forests, meadow, creeks, and ponds beneath him. He thought he could keep going, but then he started arcing down. He came through a canopy of trees and hit the ground hard.
He sat up as the dust settled. Before the Fool was a man hanging by one foot from a branch held up by two poles, upside down.
Did you land, or take off from here? The Hanged Man asked the Fool.
This confused the Fool, for he had just landed right in front of the man’s face, which was mere inches from the ground.
I have a different perspective than most, the Hanged Man continued. It helps with making decisions.
The Fool asked what decision he was in need of making, and the Hanged Man said he had no decision to make.
The Fool and the Hanged Man sat there for a while as the Hanged Man ever so slightly rocked in the breeze. They were in a forest along a road. The road wound up to a castle off in the distance. The forest was lush, and it seemed like springtime here. There was a dogwood tree fully bloomed near to where they were.
I’d ask if you have anywhere you have to be, but I know you do, said the Hanged Man. You probably don’t think you do since you don’t think.
The Fool didn’t like this upside-down person. He seemed judgmental and smug from his position.
A long parade of people came up the road, marching and playing music. They were wearing mismatched outfits that were threadbare and falling apart, and the music was out of tune with cacophonous noise. Their musical instruments were dented and broken. The sound was unbearable.
As the parade came by, the Hanged Man kept his back away from it, turning slowly on his rope. The Fool saw that the Hanged Man held silver in his hands, behind his back. The parade paid the Hanged Man no mind as they followed the winding path to the castle. Some of the high squeals and the thump of the drum carried in the wind and could even be heard from up there.
I am not a martyr, the Hanged Man said, I am up here till I figure it all out. I put myself here, and I will take myself down when it is time. A small dust devil twirled some leaves up the road a bit. Birds sang in the treetops. The Fool could see a flowering apple orchard off in the distance.
The Fool spent a few moments wondering how the Hanged Man got himself up there. A gust of wind turned the Hanged Man in a circle, and the Fool couldn’t help but notice the smile plastered on the Hanged Man’s face. The Hanged Man wore such nice clothing: a tunic that was separated by four different patterns. Even though dust blew along the path, his clothes were clean. He seemed to enjoy his time hanging upside down.
There is no such thing as a martyr, the Hanged Man continued, only in retrospect do people decide. He winked at the Fool before the wind turned him away. He finally turned back towards the Fool, who had held the wink the entire time.
A few centuries went by – or maybe it was a matter of minutes – before the parade had mostly passed down the road. The Fool decided to follow the parade away from the silly upside-down man.
The end of the parade got to the Hanged Man and the Fool, and the marchers were carrying a casket. The music grew sadder and more subdued, but unfortunately no less out of tune and dissonant. The Fool got up and said goodbye to the Hanged Man and started following the parade, ringing his bell to the awful music.
The Hanged Man watched the Fool go. He had met the Fool many times before. He had been hanging upside down, waiting to make a decision. He was also a fool in that way. The Fool didn’t like the Hanged Man, but he and the Fool were the same in a lot of ways. The difference was that the Hanged Man changed his perspective and the Fool wouldn’t.
The Hanged Man was there when they made the Fool. He’d been a great carver then. He’d delicately carved symbols on the frame that made up the Fool’s skeleton. The symbols were powerful with magic, but the Hanged Man could see that none of it was used.
He turned with the wind and could not see the Fool anymore, which was fine. He would see the upside-down Fool again soon enough.