Long ago, in a faraway land, lived a kind, young man named Bienhommen whose father soon would die. The father summoned his five sons.
They heard his raspy voice from the death pillow. "You grow old without wives. You disappoint me. To he who first marries I bequeath my estate. The rest receive only my sympathy."
Bienhommen loved his father's land and he wanted it for his own, but his greatest love was for the beautiful Vanicio, fairest maiden in the village, who had no more interest in him than a pig has for a carriage.
He gathered wild flowers and seven pieces of gold and went to Vanicio.
"Marry me and all I have is yours," he told her.
"The man I marry will bring flowers and gold, as you do, but he will sweep me into the sunset on a stallion that snorts fire. And I shall be his shadow forever." She waved her hand. "Off with you, oh dreary one."
Bienhommen sulked into the woods, fell to his knees and wept. There would be neither property nor love in his future.
He unsheathed his dagger and prepared to end his life when an elderly shaman came.
"What goes here, Bienhommen?"
The young man explained the situation to the shaman.
"There is a shop in the village where dwells a man called Escroso. He can help you, but think long before you act," the shaman said.
Bienhommen went to the shop. In a tiny portico was a beautiful ceramic bottle, embossed with roses and enthroned upon a velvet pedestal. A sign read, "Love Potion, inquire within."
Bienhommen entered the shop and introduced himself to Escroso, the owner. "What can your love potion do for me?"
Escroso explained. "Give this love potion to any woman and she immediately will fall in love with you. She will want to be with you every moment of the day. Where you go, she also will go, like your shadow. Is that what you had in mind?"
"Precisely," Bienhommen said. "You will be the center of her universe. She will have no interest in anyone or anything but you. She will have no opinions of her own; she will parrot yours, like your echo. Is that what you seek?" "What's not to like?" Bienhommen said. "Furthermore, she will be jealous, not just of other women but of anyone or anything in your life - family, friends, even your pets. She will be jealous of the time you devote to anything but her. Is that your desire?" "I can live with that." "Nothing you do will destroy her love. You can humiliate, beat, or abandon her and---". "I would never do anything like that," Bienhommen interrupted.
"I've heard that sentiment before," Escroso said, "but it matters not how you treat her. She will forgive you and love you all the more."
Bienhommen was suspicious. "How long does the potion last? Do I have to purchase refills often?"
"To the contrary, the love potion never loses its potency. One drop on the tongue and she will love you until death do you part."
"Bienhommen grew more suspicious. "Such a powerful and desirable love potion must be expensive."
"Only one Kruger," answered the shopkeeper.
"Surely thou doest jest," laughed Bienhommen. "The lovely bottle alone costs more than a Kruger. How do you profit?"
"To be frank, I don't," replied the shopkeeper. "It is a ploy to bring people into my shop. Hopefully they'll buy something else."
Bienhommen looked around. "But you have nothing else to sell?"
The owner withdrew from his pocket a clear, glass vial. He held it to the light with reverence. "I sell this." The shopkeeper smiled at his customer for the first time and a shower of sparks illuminated the infinite depths of Escroso's black eyes.
"It's water," Bienhommen said.
"No, my friend, this is a colorless, odorless, tasteless poison. It kills instantly and leaves no trace in the body so that the person appears to have died of natural causes."
"Oh," gasped Bienhommen, recoiling in horror. "Who would want it?"
The shopkeeper's laugh filled the shop like a cloud of soot. "I sell as many of these as I do of the love potion."
"You can't be serious," said Bienhommen. "And how much does that cost?"
"Ten thousand Krugers," replied the shopkeeper.
"Ten thousand? Bienhommen echoed. "Who could afford that?"
"When people are desperate, they find the money."
"Really," exclaimed the young man again in disbelief. "And what else do you sell in your shop?"
"Nothing."
"And you make a living selling only those two items?"
"I do well."
For a single Kruger, Bienhommen insured himself a future of unmitigated love and bountiful wealth. "Since the love potion is permanent and I will have no use for the other item in your inventory, I bid you good bye."
" Au revoir ," Escroso smiled, and once again sparks danced in his ebony eyes. "Until we meet again."
Marty RicKard Bio
Marty RicKard attended William Penn College , Iowa State University and University of Southern Mississippi , from which he holds a BS degree in journalism and photojournalism. He also has a Masters Degree in photography, in addition to the Craftsman, CPP, and A-ASP degrees. Marty spent two years as a technical writer for White Motor Company, and has worked for the Charles City Press, Mason City Globe-Gazette, and Davenport Times-Democrat. He was co-owner of the weekly New Sharon Star, where he was twice named Iowa Master Columnist for his article, which was syndicated in twenty Iowa newspapers. For more than a decade Marty's regular column appeared in the Professional Photographer magazine. He has been published in many other magazines and newspapers, including Writer's Digest, Writer Advice, Golf Digest, Resource Magazine, Picture, Range Finder, and Darkroom. In addition to his writing credits, Marty has won numerous photography awards, has lectured in 48 states, and has traveled internationally as lecturer, and judge. He was one of thirty from the U.S. to participate in the first cultural exchange with China in 1986. He currently is a regular columnist for Lens Magazine, and a full-time writer of fiction and poetry. He is the author of two poetry books and one volume of short stories. He is an entertaining speaker.
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