The Five Elephants Problem

I was woken at 6.30 a.m. by a hammering on my back door.

I dressed quickly and shouted for Alun to come in.

“It’s abctales Jed,” he said, “their Inspiration Point this week is five elephants.”

“Five elephants, that’s very specific. They’re usually a bit more general.”

“You should write a story Jed. You haven’t written anything all year and it’ll be easy. We have elephants living on the island, all you have to do is write about what they’re up to.”

Alun was referring to the miniature elephants I inherited from one of my fans.

“But there are six elephants on the island, not five,” I said.

“You can just leave one out. All we have to do is climb up Elephant Mountain, they’re always up to mischief so you’ll easily find a story to write.”

Alun was right about my writing. I didn’t write a single word all January. If pressed I said I was ‘researching’ my next novel, but the truth is I just didn’t feel at all inspired.

“I suppose I might as well give it a try.”

We walked up the hill in the centre of the island, where the elephants reside. We took a bundle of lettuces from Alun’s garden.

“If we feed the elephants the lettuces you can write a short story about it.”

“It’s not much of a story though, is it? Just elephants eating. I’ve got to compete against writers telling tales of wars, parted lovers, funny stories; tragic tales about poverty, disease and death. Describing elephants eating doesn’t really compare.”

“It’s not the plot that matters Jed, it’s how you tell it. Look at the way the elephants lift a lettuce up high in the sky with their trunk, eye it carefully, as if checking for caterpillars, and then lob them whole into mouths. It’s a fantastic sight, described properly it should win you the Palme Dor.”

“The Palme D’or? I thought that was for films.”

“Films, books, they’re pretty much interchangeable in today’s culture Jed. The book you read today will be a film tomorrow and vice versa. Here, I’ll take hold of one of the elephants and you can write about the other five.”

So saying, Alun grabbed one of the elephants while I took out my notepad and pencil and began writing. Describing elephants eating is harder than you might think and before I’d got beyond the opening paragraph the sixth elephant had struggled free from Alun’s grasp and was back with its friends eating lettuces.

“Damn,” I said, “that didn’t work. There are six elephants now and I’ve barely written a word.”

“Never mind Jed,” Alun said, “I’ve got an even better idea. Let’s take five of the elephants down to North Bay to meet the lunchtime boat. Professor Mary Beard is visiting to look at the historic papers. “That’s a genuine adventure Jed. ‘Mary Beard and the Elephants’.”

We took the five elephants down to North Bay to await the boatman and the eminent classical historian, hoping that a fantastic story would unfold.

Mary was delighted to see a gathering of elephants and men awaiting her and enjoyed feeding the little beasts with the cabbages and lettuces we had brought with us especially.

“This is excellent, Jed,” Alun whispered, “you can’t fail to make a story about this, Mary Beard feeding elephants is exactly what people want to read about.”

However before I could reply we were both nearly knocked over as a elephant charged between our legs. It was number six, who had followed us from the mountain, afraid that he was missing out. He was still running when he reached Professor Beard and knocked her arse over tip, into the water.

The boatman helped us fish her out.

“No harm done,” said Mary as she struggled ashore, “no need to worry”.

“We’ll take to you to the empty house to dry out,” Alun said, “there’s bound to be a spare dress in your size, the Daleks left an entire wardrobe behind.”

“Thank you, oh, oh, no – I’m sorry, I seem to have hurt my foot, I can’t walk.” Professor Beard said, not complaining, merely stating a fact, “I’ll never make it to the empty house now.”

“I’ve an idea,” I said. We could place you onto the back of the elephants and they could carry you.”

“Oh what fun, I’ve never travelled on the back of an elephant, let alone six at once.”

We lined the elephants up in two rows and Mary climbed aboard. It was slow progress, as the elephants were being extremely careful not to drop their load, but they made their way across the island to the empty house.

“I can’t believe it,” I said, “what an excellent story this would have made, all ruined because I have too many elephants.”

“Never mind Jed,” Alun said, consoling me, “with any luck next week’s inspiration point will be about two men living alone on an island.”

“Well that’s no good. Nothing ever happens to us, nobody would be interested in that story.”