Tiger Stories

By - Mar 19, 2019

 

Characters:

FATHER
SON
MOTHER’S VOICE

*

(An evening in December. FATHER and SON sitting at a table, a brazier warming their legs beneath. The FATHER hugs his SON. The SON is five years old.)


SON

Father, let’s hear a story!

FATHER

What kind of story?

SON

Any kind of story. How about a story about tigers?

FATHER

Tigers? I don’t know anything about tigers.

SON

Can’t you make something up?

FATHER

I can try. (He thinks.) A story about tigers. Once upon a time in Korea, there was a soldier. He was a bugler, and one night he had too much to drink and fell asleep at his mountain post. As he lay there snoring fast asleep he felt something moist tickling his nose. His eyes fluttered open and he saw a sopping wet tail brushing across his face. It was a tiger.

SON (incredulous)

Why didn’t the tiger just eat him?

FATHER

He was about to, but the bugler reeked so badly of wine that the tiger needed to get rid of the stench.

SON

What did the bugler do next?

FATHER

He grabbed his horn, and with all his might jammed it up the tiger’s rear. The tiger yelped and fled down the path toward the town below.

SON

Did the tiger die?

FATHER

He was injured, gravely—the horn was lodged far up his rear. He left a trail of blood behind him as he limped into town. Every step he took the horn gave a toot, and in the middle of town square, in front of everyone to see, the tiger collapsed and died.

SON (laughing)

What happened to the bugler?

FATHER

The bugler became a hero. The townspeople threw a celebration and cheered him for slaying the tiger who had terrorized the town for many years. (Pause.) The end.

SON (rolling his eyes)

That’s it? Tell me another. A good one, something longer. 

FATHER

But not about a tiger.

SON

Why not?

FATHER

Because. There’s only so many stories you can tell about a tiger—

SON (interrupting)

But what do you mean? Just make up one more. Father, please—

FATHER (sighing)

I really have to think. (He thinks.) Okay. Another tiger story. This one happened in Korea too. Once upon a time there was a hunter. He was hunting in the mountains when he saw a tiger prowling in the valley below.

SON (wide-eyed)

How big was this tiger?

FATHER

Huge, the biggest he had ever seen. The hunter fancied it would become the crown trophy of his collection, and planned to mount the tiger’s head on his wall. He loaded his rifle and took aim, but then—

SON (interrupting)

Bam! The hunter shot the tiger dead!—

FATHER (continuing)

as he was about to pull the trigger, the tiger, sensing danger, shrank down and tried to jump onto a boulder. It bungled the jump and tumbled to the ground where it landed on its back with a thud.

SON

Did the hunter shoot it in the air?

FATHER

No, the tiger was such a blimp that it couldn’t jump to save its life. It rolled over onto its paws, clumped back a few steps and tried again.

SON

And did it make it?

FATHER (shaking his head)

No. It fell, then got up wagging its tail in shame. After looking around, the tiger lumbered into the bushes never to be seen again. 

SON

So the hunter didn’t even shoot?

FATHER

He couldn’t bring himself to do it, not after seeing how clumsy the tiger was. He felt bad for it, the tiger reminded him of a human—the bumbling face, the labored breathing. The hunter sighed and moved along…

SON

Father, that’s the dumbest story I’ve ever heard. Tell me a better one than that.

FATHER

How about a story about a cat? I know a good one about a cat, a cat who wears leather boots. Once—

SON (interrupting)

But I want to hear a story about a tiger. I asked for a story about a tiger, not a cat.

FATHER

But there’s more to this world than tigers, son. Tigers aren’t the only animals in the world. (He thinks.) This is the last story, no more after this. (Somewhat miffed) Once upon a time there was a very, very large tiger who had three cubs. Every day at sunset she played with her cubs, jumping, fighting and rolling around, and when it was dark they went into their cave to sleep… Hey. (The Father nudges his Son.) I’m telling you the story. Don’t fall asleep—

SON

I’m not, I’m listening…

FATHER (continuing)

—one sunset in autumn, while hunting for food, the tiger was struck by a hunter’s arrows and barely escaped with her life. Back home, unaware of her wounds, her cubs joyfully pounced on her, and she played with them like nothing was wrong, jumping, fighting and rolling around, and then at night they went into their cave to sleep. Encircled by her sleeping cubs, the tiger died at dawn. When her cubs awoke and found her dead, they were petrified, and… Hey, are you awake?

SON (asleep)

FATHER (gently knocking on his SON’s head)

Hello, is anyone there? The child fell asleep.

MOTHER’S VOICE (from afar)

Yes, it’s me! I’m home now.

 

December 1925




*TRANSLATED FROM THE JAPANESE BY RYAN C.K. CHOI