431: Turkish folklore: These Dreams

This week on Myths and Legends, there are two stories from Turkey. On the first, you'll see how you should follow your dreams, even if those dreams mean forsaking everyone you love and starving in a faraway land. On the second, you'll see how you should never follow your dreams, because you won't get the good reservations at the bath. The creature this time is a squirrel dachshund caterpillar who makes a terrible pair of gloves. This is Myths and Legends, episode 432, These Dreams. This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins. Others are stories that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen. Today, we're in Turkish folklore, with two stories of two Amets. The guys named Ahmetz, that's not a title that I know of. And they are all living their dreams, but in different ways. We'll jump in with our first Ahmet, Ahmet the Junkman, who is literally living his dreams. In that he goes to bed at like 6.30pm so he can be a rich guy when he falls asleep. Bed already? Ahmet's wife asked. Ahmet said yes. He was exhausted. He was a junk man. He spent his day searching through cinders to find scraps of iron he could sell. Yeah, I know what you do, she said. And it must be tiring and grueling, but it's like 6.15pm? He was going to bed earlier and earlier each day. Was he okay? Physically, yes. Mentally and emotionally, not remotely, Amit said. What was that other part? His wife asked. Oh, sorry, hon. Can't hear you over my exaggerated yawning. And shut the door to bed. His job was exhausting, so it did kind of make sleep easier, even when he could still see so much daylight and hear the kids playing outside. Those annoyances were shooed away by what waited for him on the other side of unconsciousness. Amit closed his eyes in his humble room, in the tower on the abandoned wall, with everything in it paid for by relentless and punishing labor, and opened his eyes in his mansion, being fanned by servants and being fed fruits and dates. He breathed, oh, this was good. He turned to his wife, who asked what they should do today. Yachts? Feasts? Riding space dolphins? Ahmet looked up, and the dolphin riding off into space with a shimmering trail behind him winked. Tipping his cool drink to the dolphin, Ahmet turned back to his wife. How about they did nothing at all? She smiled. Sounds great. About an hour later, Ahmet looked up when his servant announced a visitor. It was a man he hadn't seen before. In fact, well, he didn't know if he had seen the man before because Amit couldn't see his face. He had one. It was just like he was looking at the man out of the corner of his eye, even when he was looking directly at the stranger. Wake up, the stranger said. What? How do you know? Wake up, the stranger demanded. No, no, no, no, don't say that. It's not time. in a moment, Amit was out of the glory and splendor of his dream manor and in the darkness of his cramped room at the base of the tower. Closing his eyes with a groan, he tried to go back to sleep, to regain those few precious lost hours, but he couldn't. He sat up, face in his hands, hearing the tree outside sway in the wind, knowing it was time to start this new, terrible day in this old, terrible life. Go to Egypt, and your night shall be your day. A voice said from the corner of the room that Ahmet kept himself from screaming was a feat, and he squinted, what? Go to Egypt, and your night shall be your day, the voice repeated. And Ahmet said, wait, that form, he recognized that face because he didn't recognize that face. The man, it was the man from his dream. But Egypt? How? Where? Ahmet blinked and it was day. He was laying down in bed with the words, go to Egypt and your night shall be your day echoing in his head. Oh, wow, it's 7 p.m. and you're not in bed? Amit's wife asked a week later. No, of course not. That's so far away, it's just, like, dream nonsense. Amit snapped back at her. Bed is far away, she asked, puzzled. No, Egypt. Who said anything about bed? Amit grumbled. Bed wasn't fun anymore. He just had the same dream, but not in a fun way and a bad way, because it was a bad dream about a bad guy. His wife stood. She felt for him, but this was the Middle Ages. It was hard for everyone, and she had her own stuff going on and couldn't sit here and pretend to be mad about his dreams. And while they were fighting, he needed to stop yelling at the neighbors. Then they need to stop asking me about when I'm going to Egypt, Amit said. No one is asking when you're going to Egypt, and announced that, for once, she was going to bed before he was, because she just couldn't deal with him right now. She woke the following morning to some crazy person running the path by the wall saying, I go, I go, I go to the land of wealth. And it wasn't until she got up and saw Amit's traveling cloak and walking stick gone that she realized the crazy man running away down the wall had been her husband. And he had left. Cap, hey, we got a guy on board. He says he's not paying, the first mate said to the captain of a boat bound for Egypt that same morning before dawn. And why is he still on board then? The captain stroked his beard. Well, he says that he was summoned to Egypt by some otherworldly force and you were bound to take him. The captain got serious. What? He said that? I mean, anyone can say that though, right? He didn't give any names or anything. The first mate shrugged, nothing to suggest some eerie supernatural connection. Did he seem a little crazy? The captain asked. And the first mate pointed, yes. That was definitely his whole vibe he was giving off. Or holy, the captain pointed. I mean, less so? definitely, but I guess it could read that way, the first mate allowed. You know what? It's not worth it. It's one spot and we can tuck him in somewhere in the bottom and just call it aesthetic plus. So wait, whose rations will we be feeding him from? The first mate said. Oh no, that's aesthetic premium plus, the captain replied. Wait, I thought that was the old deck floor select package, the first mate said. Oh, yeah, it was. We just changed some words around and added some, like plus and premium, and now we can charge more for stuff we used to do for free, the captain said. But yeah, this Ahmet guy would get to sail for free. He wasn't about to get on the bad side of holy stuff, no thanks. And so that's how, not too long after, Ahmet found himself walking the streets of Cairo. After getting warned, with kicking, that he should stay away from mansions that kind of looked like his dream mansion, he ended up on the street, eating bread crusts of strangers. And, when you're relying on the bread crusts of strangers, you should probably abstain from shouting at said strangers about how they're all liars, and that you were tricked into coming there by faceless dream men. Eventually, everyone tired of his yelling, and they just stopped coming around him. Ahmet found all the streets he was on devoid of anyone seeking or offering charity. Eventually, he decided that, marooned in a faraway land, no hope of being obscenely rich and winking at space dolphins, he didn't want to keep on going. He wandered out to the pyramids, where he laid next to them to wait for a stone to fall and crush him. Yes, those famously rickety pyramids that, even at that point, had stood for thousands of years, were now going to have a stone shake free and fall. As he was laying there, wincing, he heard a voice. An old man walking the desert. Why so miserable, father? Has your soul been so strangled that you prefer it being dashed out of your body to its remaining prescribed time in bondage? Amit said he was from Istanbul, where he had been a junk man, but he had been plagued with dreams of more. He followed his dream to Egypt, where he now lived, though barely, alone and starving. The old man, also named Amit for some reason, laughed. That was foolish, though he understood the urging. If he were to obey his dreams, then he would have left long ago as a man as young as Amit, when his dreams first started. A dream told him to go to Istanbul, where there stood an old wall where some people lived. Some of the towers were square, some round, and the base of one lived an old man and his wife, and outside the tower stood a large tree. A man who has a face, but he had never seen it, pointed to that tree night after night. But the old man wasn't such a fool as to actually go to Istanbul to verify it. It was an oft-repeated dream and nothing more. Ahmet laughed. He understood how foolish he was, now, to follow a dream to Egypt. If he had only been wise. Like this man wandering the desert on a work day, heckling strangers going through an obvious mental health crisis. He thanked the man, who once again was also named Ahmet, but that isn't addressed. and our Amit made for port. He seems less crazy now, the first mate explained to the captain. The captain sighed, all right, still let him on for free, but upgrade him to a set at premium plus select. The first mate said, that was what he was on last time, right? We just changed the name. It's actually worse. It's the same seat, but with more rats. And he understood the rates and names seemed misleading and predatory. But what were people going to do? Not sale places? The captain laughed. The first mate joined in. Yes. They hated their customers. Ahmet returned home one afternoon after a full day of work, bringing bread and beans and actually a few scraps of meat. His wife, when she opened the wooden door of the tower's base where they lived, was angry. But the rights of women, being what they were, kind of had no choice but to take him back. Also, she was starving too. It took him a week until, one night at dinner, he looked out on the light of the fading day and saw, next to his tower, the big tree. The one he had seen every day. He shook his head, no, that was impossible. In the other Ahmet's dream, an elderly couple had lived in the tower next to the tree. But then Amit thought about it. That, actually, his in-laws had lived in this tower until they passed a few years back. And the old desert Amit said he had that dream as a younger man. That night, well after dark, Amit left with a shovel. The next morning he laughed over his bad luck with his wife, saying it had been foolish of him to listen to the desert Amit. As foolish as it had been to go to Egypt in the first place. But he had to try. Besides, could she imagine if there had been treasure there? They would spend the rest of their short life defending it from their neighbors, the sultan, I mean everyone who wanted a piece. She laughed too. So Ahmet continued on as a junk man, searching the wastes and trash for anything he could find, to sell to support him and his wife. Still, fortune must have smiled on him, because he would always get luckier than most. Finding, with a surprising regularity, gold, jewels, even gemstones, when others would bring home only iron. I not sure what this story is saying actually Follow your dreams but also don because you starve in a foreign land and condemn your spouse to abject poverty, and the true riches were at home the whole time. I do think Ahmed appreciates his life now, though, and that he's more present in the waking world, realizing that wealth is only a nice addition, and not everything. Of course, that luxury of not needing to focus on money is only brought about by having money, and if he didn't have that wealth, he would very much notice not having it, so yeah, I'm back to not knowing what this story is saying. Sorry. In the second and final story today, it's another Amit, who truly does not care about money. He found his passion in life, fixing shoes, and wants to do just that, except he can't do that anymore. He needs to go be an astrologer. That, though, will be right after this. This episode is sponsored by Better Help. I used to view strength as sort of the stoic, stiff upper lip sort of thing. As I get older, though, I've seen how that works out for some people, and I am now 100% in the camp that it's way healthier and way stronger to be able to recognize and work through how you feel and those assumptions you make about your own life that sometimes you don't even realize. We all have feelings and pressures and expectations. Therapy has absolutely helped me to process grief, anger, set healthy boundaries, and just be a more present person in my own life. Because really, we only have one life, and no one can make you change. Except you. If you're thinking of trying therapy, BetterHelp is a great option. They have something like 30,000 therapists who are licensed in the U.S., and they take one of the more challenging things, matching with the right therapists, and BetterHelp has it down to a science. A quick questionnaire mixed with their 12 plus years of experience and you have a list of tailored recommendations. And as you no doubt know, you can switch to a different therapist at any time if you're just not clicking. But they usually get it right the first time. Your emotional well-being matters. Find support and feel lighter in therapy. Sign up and get 10% off at betterhelp.com slash myths. That's betterhelp.com slash myths. I am like a takeout ninja. I am so fast. I blink and I have that app up, you know, the one where you get the same food you get at a restaurant, but it's twice the price, lukewarm, and it's been sending in someone's smoky car for 45 minutes. ButcherBox, though, has stayed my thumb because it's already here. It really does take less time to make something. And with ButcherBox's amazing meat, we actually feel better. It fuels your body instead of slowing it down. With ButcherBox, a certified B Corp, you absolutely taste the difference of 100% grass-fed beef, free-range organic chicken, crate-free pork, and wild-caught seafood. Even better, for over a decade, ButcherBox has led the industry with meat and seafood that's antibiotic-free, hormone-free, and independently verified. Because when it comes to fueling your body, quality isn't extra. It's everything. Clean, whole protein means better support for strength, metabolism, and that steady, all-day energy that we're all chasing. Whether it's you, you plus one, or you plus a lot, ButcherBox offers fully customizable plans that fit all your needs. And it makes healthy the easy choice, not the exhausting one. As an exclusive offer, new listeners can get their choice between chicken breast or top sirloin for a year, or ground beef for life. Plus, $20 off your first box and free shipping always. That's butcherbox.com slash legends. Don't forget to use our code so they know we sent you. Ahmet sat back and looked at his shoes. Well, not his shoes. They belonged to the merchant down the road. But in a way, all the shoes he worked on were his shoes. His life was a good one. Waking up each morning, he knew exactly what the day would bring. And he was content with where he was and who he was. Ahmet the cobbler was right where he was supposed to be. Something, or someone, sat just inside the periphery of his vision. Oh, hi honey. How long have you been there? He said to his wife. Sorry, I must not have seen you come in. You know, when I get locked into my work, I'm in there deep, he said. putting his tools away for the day. Why are you not the chief astrologer to the sultan? The woman sat back and crossed her arms, looking with a potent, acrid mixture of shame, disappointment, and disgust on her husband. Why am I not the what? The chief astrologer to the sultan, the woman said. Why are you not him? Because he already exists? Amit was struggling to understand what was going on here. Why don't you have that job instead of this job? Because I'm a cobbler. I cobble-er. I fix shoes. It's a completely different skill set. I add value to my community and repair and restore. He says vague phrases and wows the sultan with smoke and mirrors. You know my thoughts on astrology. Where is this coming from? It was coming from Amit's wife getting bumped from the baths today. She was just settling into her compartment when she was notified that the harem for the chief astrologer had arrived and that she would have to bathe on a different day. Okay, let's back up, Ahmed said. The harem of the astrologer. Okay, so stop me if I'm wrong. You would rather be one of a harem, one of a handful of women, than the sole wife of me, A cobbler. She sat there. Sorry, he told her to stop him if he was wrong. Also, she leaned forward, harem can mean many things. There can be wives, up to four if you support all of us. They can be concubines. They can be family members who are women who live in the harem quarters, or just servants who are women. But to answer your question, I would be cool with even the most simplistic version of it that you are referencing, rather than be married to you. Wow. Wow, this was a lot, the cobbler reeled. This felt like one of those things that would be really hard to get past in a marriage. Paraphrasing a sketch in the show, I think you should leave. The woman said that it was an embarrassment to be married to him. She didn't respect him. She didn't respect what he did. And if she was with child and she prayed she wasn't, she would make sure the child didn't respect him either. She got up. Now, she was going to the bath. When she came back, he better be on his way to becoming chief astrologer to the Sultan. The slamming door shook the house, and Amit sat nonplussed at his desk. What even was that? He was so worked up that he couldn't relax, so he got his tools out and got back to work. After about an hour of replaying the conversation in his head, he was confident that this was nothing. She was just mad about the bath. it would all blow over by morning. Hi, Ahmet said when he woke up on his workbench the following morning. I'm just, I don't know, waiting for an apology, he offered after several seconds of silence. Oh, okay, his wife thought about it. Um, I'm sorry that you are the way you are and that I'm stuck with you. She then made her way out to start her day. It didn't get better after that. In the story, she said, quote, I will never call or think of you as my husband until you have been appointed chief astrologer to his majesty. There is something to be said for pushing your spouse to be the best version of themselves. This is not that. It's not like Amit wants to set aside a career to say, see where his mythology podcast goes in a time when it was virtually impossible for a non-celebrity to make a living doing a podcast, he had a stable, good job that he loved. All I'm saying is, if the person you're with is purposefully making you miserable so that you give up something that's good for you, that you love, that's not a good situation for you and you should have some big conversations. To make the pain stop, he gave her what she wanted, which, yes, is the exact definition of torture. He sold all of his tools and materials and the shoes he had fixed and made, and with that money, bought an inkwell and reeds. Anyone who's ever picked up a nice camera, tried their first few brushstrokes with paint on canvas, or bought a nice guitar with the idea that you're finally going to learn guitar and strummed a few bars, will know that having the right tools, even good ones, does not make you good at something. I've made a horrible mistake. Ahmet looked on the reeds and inkwells and paper. Well, that's your problem, she said. Too much time in the shop. People weren't coming to him as an astrologer here. They were coming to him as a cobbler. Just this morning, she had to turn away two dozen people who loved his work. They would not leave. She had to resort to threats of bodily harm. No, he needed to go out to the highway and practice his craft. Astrologize away, but away from here. That's probably not what it's called, Amit mumbled. But he wouldn't know because he wasn't an astrologer. Astrology! Get your astrology here! Astrology! Ahmet sat down by the highway, calling out for people to try out his astrology. Free samples. But no one was going for it. Maybe they were busy. Maybe because they knew he was a shoemaker, who, until that morning, had no training or experience in astrology and who actively derided the craft. As he sat by the road, feeling the sun on his skin in early autumn, he was grateful, at least, to see the sky. He never really appreciated how beautiful the clouds were, all cooped up in his workshop. Do you converse with the stars? A woman's voice called out as a shadow fell over him. He looked up until he saw a hanum, which I've seen as a way to address noble women. Do I converse with the stars? Well, you could say that I'm compelled to. Amit smiled. The woman thanked Allah and launched into a story. She went to the bath this morning, and when she did so, she was positive she had her diamond ring. But she and her servants had searched every corner of the bath, her home, and the path between the two, and couldn't find it anywhere. Please tell me where my diamond ring is, and I will both bless and handsomely reward you, the woman pleaded. Ahmet closed his eyes. Yep, nothing. He had charts and pens and ink, and he should probably maybe have those out right now and do something, but he didn't know what. All he could think about now was that he had his eyes closed for something like 20 seconds and still hadn't thought about anything. He opened them and saw the hem of the woman's trousers. He was skilled in shoe repair and actually clothing repair too. He'd almost become a tailor. It was like a coin toss. He loved them both. So there were things that he noticed that no one else would, like a tear beginning to form in the leg of the noble woman's trousers. Oh, I actually perceive a rent there, he said, almost without thinking, just trying to be helpful. The woman gasped. Ahmet shrugged. Well, at least she hadn't paid up front, so it was only his pride and self-respect he would be losing. But his day had started with him sitting by the side of the highway hawking astrology, so those were basically gone now anyway. Oh, thank you, yes. I had all but forgotten the woman was elated. I was worried about the ring slipping off in the bath, so I put it in the crevice of the cold water fountain. Here, a thousand blessings and thank yous. She pressed several gold pieces into his hands and rushed off back toward the bath. Ahmet looked at what equaled several times what he made in a month as a cobbler and sat stunned. What just happened? Here you go. Please take all of it. I'll just use a bit to buy back my shoe supplies and we can be done with this. Ahmet set the gold down on the table upon returning home. His wife looked up. The salary for the chief astrologer for the Sultan was a paltry one. That's not a salary. I'm still not the chief astrologer for the Sultan. Ahmet said that guy still already exists. Hmm, then why are you stopping? She asked. Ahmet sighed and said he guessed he wasn't. The pasha said it was an honor, truly, to be in the presence of the astrologer Ahmet the cobbler. What brings you to my home today sir Ahmet said feeling grateful that he was a body sweater and not a face sweater and thus the Pasha couldn see that his undershirt was absolutely drenched He had been happy being a nobody cobbler. After his one lucky guess, the whole district seemed to know his name. The woman hadn't stopped singing his praises to all of her high society friends. The Pasha had lost a diamond necklace, and he had employed all manner of astrologers and diviners to find it, but everyone had come back with nothing and been beaten for it. Now he was here, at Amit's house. Uh, how many diamonds were on the necklace? Amit said, looking thoughtfully at the charts and stuff. Beautiful font work and drawings. Didn't know what any of it meant, but knowing wouldn't help him now. 24, the pasha, the military officer, said. the enslaved man he brought with him nodded thoughtfully by his side. Ahmet looked up with confidence. Then that's how many hours it would be until the location would be revealed. Almost falling out of his chair, the Pasha said, Really? He would recover the necklace in 24 hours? Of course. It would take an hour to discover each diamond, but when he had all of them, he would have a full picture of what happened. The Pasha rose and clapped. This was wonderful news. He would be by tomorrow at the same hour and learn what happened to his necklace. Ahmet said he looked forward to it. As the pair left, the enslaved man took a half dozen looks back at Ahmet, studying him, but Ahmet didn't waver. The moment the door shut, he collapsed. Wow, I am so curious how you're going to do it, his wife whispered. He stood and pointed. He had enough of this. Quote, Oh woman, what evil influence impelled you to go the wrong path and drag others with you? When the 24 hours are up, you will perhaps repent. Alas, too late. Your husband gone from you forever without a hope of even being united in paradise. Okay, Mr. Astrologer. The wife smiled. I get it. You won't tell me how it's all done. I'll stop asking. Both of them heard the door rock on its hinges, as if someone had been leaning against it. When the wife went to open it, she and Ahmet only saw the enslaved man rushing to catch up to the pasha. That night, as Ahmet was putting his go-bag together to maybe leave town forever, he heard from his wife in the main room that he had more clients. We're closed. I'm deep in thought for the pasha. He stopped speaking when, upon exiting his room, he saw a face he recognized, the face of the enslaved man from that afternoon. He now accompanied a woman. Please, learned one, you are a great and good man. Have compassion on my weakness. Do not expose me to the wrath of my husband. I will do whatever penance you order, and will bless you five times daily for as long as I live, she said. How can I save you? He asked the woman What's decreed is decreed He, of course, was referring to the Big picture idea that we all have our fates As are known by an omniscient god Seeing her fret Two, he also learned that words unuttered Were arrows still in the quiver If you won't pity me, I'll confess I will go and confess to my Pasha Perhaps he will have pity, she said Ahmet had learned in the intervening days since becoming a fake astrologer that sometimes just looking pensive and saying you were going to consult the stars for their views did a lot of the work for you. I must go now, great wise man, she said, or else my husband, the Pasha, will miss me. It's obvious you know I stole the necklace. Can I give you the necklace before he arrives tomorrow so you can restore it without explanation? Oh, you're the Pasha's wife, Amit said. you know what? He could have pity on the woman, yes. It wouldn't do to simply restore it, though. She learned her lesson about, let's say, theft? Nodding, the woman said absolutely. Then if, tomorrow morning, she places the necklace between the mattresses of the Pasha's bed, he, Amit, would exercise his influence on her behalf for astral intervention. Thanking the wise man, she rushed off back home. we'll see how more money and fame only bring more problems to the guy who just wants to make shoes can he please just go back to fixing shoes but that will once again be right after this kirsten i have kind of a specific decorating style actually i should say that she does i just appreciate it because it's all her. She has a great eye for that. It's sort of a modern Victorian meets mid-century modern. Do you know what no furniture store in the city has? That. But you go on Wayfair and there are so many options and with so many budgets in mind. I just looked up a couch, for example. Found one that's immediately perfect and it could be here in two days. And I'm like, okay, well that seems too good to be true, but you can go down to the reviews. Okay, that's good, but are those real? Oh, there are dozens of pictures from actual customers' real houses in apartments. Wow, basically Wayfair has thought of everything. I'm personally way more comfortable buying off there than taking an exhausting Saturday afternoon and going to like four different furniture stores and coming back with nothing, and that is a true story. All the stuff we've gotten from Wayfair was super easy to assemble. Like I said, we have a guest room now, so we had to get guest room stuff, and it was so painless. They recommended great stuff. It was in my cart here by Friday set up done looks expertly designed and because Wayfair has thought of all the little details we were able to get exactly what we wanted and stick to a budget find furniture decor and essentials that fit your unique style and budget head to Wayfair.com right now to shop all things home that's w-a-y-f-a-i-r.com Wayfair every style every home starting a business means wearing many hats, designer, marketer, manager, while chasing your vision. Shopify powers millions of businesses with tools to build beautiful stores, create content and market with ease. From inventory to shipping, everything runs smoothly. If you're ready to sell, you're ready for Shopify. Sign up for your one euro trial today at shopify.nl. That's shopify.nl. Starting a business can be overwhelming. You're juggling multiple roles, designer, marketer, logistics manager, all while bringing your vision to life. Shopify helps millions of business sell online. Build fast with templates and AI descriptions and photos, inventory and shipping. Sign up for your one euro per month trial and start selling today at shopify.nl. That's shopify.nl. It's time to see what you can accomplish with Shopify by your side. Okay, so I have good news and I have bad news, Amit said to the Pasha. The good news? The stars told him where the necklace was. The Pasha gasped and looked excitedly to the enslaved man, who smiled and definitely loved being forced to spy for the wife. But, Amit added, there was a wrinkle. It regarded the thief. How many links were on the chain of that necklace? Dozens, the pasha shook his head. What significance did that have? That's why, Amit said, it would take months to divine the thief. And the necklace had to stay in that spot, the place where they last touched it. That is, of course, if they didn't move it again or secret it from the city, where it will be lost from his sight forever. But you know where it is? The Pasha waved his hands. Of course. The stars told me that before you arrived. But I must warn you, if you touch it, the energiistic forces of astrological... He's stopped. Look at him, boring this great man with the jargon that he definitely knew. It would sever the mystical link the item had with the thief. I don't care. At this point, I just want it back, the Pasha said. he was going to gift it to the woman who would be his next wife. Ahmet pointed that, okay, that made sense. And Ahmet told him the location of the necklace. Ahmet, praying that the pasha's wife made good on her promise, breathed when he heard his name sung in praises in the street. The pasha holding the diamond necklace up over his head, showering Ahmet with riches, the pasha said the man was a marvel. After the wife arrived an hour later and gave him nearly as much for his silence, Amit was alone with his own wife. Please, can this stop you? This is going to get me killed, Amit pleaded. Look, the wife said, I want a better life for me and also us. And if you think a feeling of discontent and resentment aroused by and in conjunction with desire for the possessions or qualities of another is wrong, then maybe you need to take a look at yourself, she said, and left to go spend some of that money. It is wrong. It's envy. The thing you said is literally the dictionary definition of envy. Amit called out after her, but to no avail. Potential husband? Amit's wife burst through the door. I'm your husband. We've been married for like three years, Amit said. But she waved off his words because they didn't matter. It was happening. Had he not heard? No, I haven't. I'm so famous I can barely leave the house to spend the money. I don't care if I have. I just want to be a cobbler, he groaned. Someone robbed the imperial treasury, Amit's wife said. No one knows what happened to it. Even the chief astrologer to the sultan was in disgrace. Is it because this whole thing is just cold reading and vague statements that prey on people's hopes and fears? Amit asked, but his wife waved that off. All that mumbo-jumbo shop talk. She didn't need to know how his mysticism worked, but it just needed to work one more time. In fact, she had it on good authority that there was a pounding at the door. No. Yes, she smiled. The Sultan's men had heard of the Pasha and the noblewoman. They had come to seek his wisdom and insight to find the gold. Ahmet breathed deeply, all right, and asked her to go open the door. 40 days. He had 40 days to find the thieves. It was the largest round number that didn't feel like it was just a delay of a possible literal execution. Though, when he said it was what he needed, the vizier and his guards gasped audibly and agreed immediately. Turned out, 40 was noteworthy. 40 cases of gold had been stolen by what seemed like 40 thieves. Sir, this is a bean stand. Do you want some beans? The bean seller Amit was talking to asked. He didn't know what all that was about the vizier. He was trying not to get involved in the business of pashas and princes. He just enjoyed procuring and selling different types of beans. They paid the bill, sure, but it was also his passion. He was lucky. Amit gripped him by his shoulders and told him to never, ever give that up, and then broke down and said he needed exactly 40 beans. 40 beans, the bean seller said. Real, real big spender, this one. Amit was so in his own head that he didn't pick up on the sarcasm, or the fact that the man waited for his son to go get the beans from the other jar. and soon Ahmet was walking home, dried beans running through his fingers all the days he had left on this earth. He drifted, mumbling, in a fog back home, not noticing the friends calling out greetings and congratulations on working for the sultan, the potential clients calling out for his help, or the shifty looking man who had been watching him since the vizier left his home earlier that day. He sat down at the table where he made his home and poured the beans out. Forty cases of gold, Forty days, forty thieves. Ah, and here is one of them. He handed the bean to his wife to symbolize the first of the forty days he had left. It was now gone. She looked at him. Thanks. Just outside, a small gasp gave way to footsteps in the street. Fixated on his own death, Ahmet didn't notice. And his wife was too busy smelling her hand. Do these beans smell funny? I telling you I followed him all day He was so deep in thought that I didn need to hide in alleys and shadows and sneer and stuff but I did because that half the fun the thief said but he knows Outside the window on the previous night he heard and here is one of them, referencing the thief at the window that the astrologer couldn't see. That's ridiculous, the other thief said. They arrived at about the same time, just about sundown. They saw him sitting at the table, and though they couldn't see what was on it, They imagined it was all sorts of charts and grids and junk. His head slumped, and he slid something across the table. And here is another one of them, he said. Both men looked at each other, screaming silently before running off to their hideout. They had to tell the boss. Okay, the wife said inside the house, pinching the bean and setting it down in the trash. I don't want these. Were you rude to the bean seller? Because these smell like they've lived for a long time somewhere they shouldn't have. You never be rude to people who handle your food. Later on that night, there was a knock at the door. Ahmet wasn't sleeping anyway, so he got up and walked over and... A bunch of burly men with five o'clock shadows and scruffy hair, cleaning their nails and teeth with daggers, lighting matches on their boots to start their pipes. He said they were a delegation, and they had come to negotiate the peaceful return of the gold. Ahmet let them in. He quickly gathered how they had managed to think he knew anything, with them misinterpreting the beans each night as arcane knowledge of them. They offered to return the gold immediately, and Ahmet said that that wouldn't be necessary, because he knew where the gold was. He also knew that not every one of them was bad. It was hard out there. So no, he knew how to find them and engineered this meeting to tell them where they could put the gold. And that, for as long as he lived, they had nothing to fear. After a few more minutes of the thieves, seemingly astounded by his progressive and frankly probably seditious talk, they agreed to leave the gold where Ahmet asked. Leaving, they said that they were happy Ahmet was the one to define their identities. He was truly a man of the people. Ahmet bade them all a good night, and when they were out of earshot, collapsed in terror, oh my gosh, that was so close. The stars, they don't always cooperate. Ahmet stood before the sultan. The Sultan sighed and wondered if his head-chopping blade was clean after the last dozen or so astrologers. So you don't know where my gold is. It's been 40 days, the Sultan said. Oh, I didn't say that, my Sultan, Amit replied. Just that the stars were fickle. They don't bend to the demands of a simple man like him. They would tell him where the gold was, or they would tell him who the thieves were. But they wouldn't tell him both. The Sultan looked serious. All the gold? Every last coin. Stroking his beard, the Sultan thought about it. He could just extract the location from the thieves, if he knew where they were. If you would travel to the ends of the earth to get that information, then yes, Ahmet said. The vizier rushed up to the Sultan. If he could offer his insight, they really needed the money. That was all the Sultan's party cash, and while he did keep partying over the last five weeks, the cash didn't exist, so they were deep in the red. Groaning, the Sultan said, fine. The cash, Ahmet bowed and said he would go consult the stars and give the Sultan his answer. Sorry, ma'am, the attendant at the bath said. Amit's wife stood there at the desk. Was there a problem? Well, we're all booked up today. The harem of the chief astrologer for the sultan will be coming and has requested the whole bath to themselves. I see, Amit's wife said. Well, why doesn't the woman check that again? The attendant rolled her eyes and looked down. There, it said, wait, harem of the chief astrologer for the sultan? Wait, party of one? That's me! Amit's wife clapped and went in to have the whole bath to herself. Amit, the sultan said as Amit met him in the gardens. Yes, you're exalted, Amit bowed. The sultan waved for him to walk alongside him with his left hand. His right fist remained bald. Amit, at the risk of making things awkward, and then the sultan chuckled, actually, it doesn't matter if I make things awkward, I'm the sultan. I can say the most ridiculous gobbledygook imaginable, and people will either scramble to figure out what it means or praise me to my face, saying they don't understand, but how could they, because I'm so wise. Anyway, I'm getting off track. Well, that's actually also impossible for me, because once again, power. Any track I'm on is the right one, and if someone doesn't stay with me, that's their problem. Anyway, Amit, I think you're a fraud. Amit, the fraud, managed to keep from shrieking as he strode alongside the Sultan. I mean, a cobbler decides he's going to be an astrologer and, in a few months, manages to out-divine the entire kingdom? For all I know, you're a combination of lucky guesses and complicity, the Sultan said. When you hear the calling of the stars, it's hard not to astrologize, Amit said. barely keeping his mysterious tone that he had perfected over the last few weeks. What if I asked you to make a prediction right now, the sultan said, right here in the garden, asked you something you couldn't possibly know. What would you say to that? Ahmet looked at the flowers flourishing in the shade of the trees, the insects hopping and buzzing all around. Oh, say something smart, say something smart. His mind went to the book of Proverbs he had found among the old chief astrologer's things. I wait for the stars on such matters, my Sultan. I don't trust to my own ability to make guesses. I'm not a wise man, and I should not think too highly of myself in hazard guesses. Such hubris could lead to destruction. Of course, you have heard the proverb, the grasshopper never knows where its third leap will land it. When Ahmet opened his eyes from his very practiced, bemused smirk, the one that he used to recite wise phrases someone else wrote. He found the sultan not bored, not enraged, but awestruck. The sultan looked on Amit like the man was an angel or a god. Never, never again, I will never ask you to demonstrate your powers, the sultan breathed, before rushing from the garden. Amit shrugged. All right, that went surprisingly well. Guess the guy loved proverbs, he probably should make a note of that. Ahmet left to return to his quarters to meet with his wife after her bath, leaving the slightly crinkled grasshopper, the one that had been in the sultan's fist, and the object of the test the sultan didn't even get to give, the one that had been dropped in awe when Ahmet said the proverb to hop off into the leaves. Did Ahmet have some sort of latent gift? Or was he just extremely lucky? I mean, to keep falling backwards into wealth, status, and not being executed so flawlessly does feel like something more than just Ahmet uttering several lucky phrases. But I also feel like Ahmet would be the first person to tell you, no, he's just lucky, can he please go back to making shoes? Next week, it's a samurai adventure story of a man who gives it all up to become a toothpaste salesman because it's his dream. Definitely not because he was exiled for one too many drunken sword fights at the bar and then robbed by pirates. So if you haven't noticed, Carissa has been a little MIA from the podcast for a couple of years now. Yeah. And it is because... I'm doing a drum roll. And it is because Myths and Legends has a book coming out. We do. The book is called For the King. It's being published by William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins, which we are very excited about. And it is available for pre-order now. Yeah, right now. And pre-order is super important. It is a massive help. And I just have to say, too, if you like this podcast, hands down, you will love this book. Yes. If you like tales of old written for the modern age, like on Myths and Legends, but you also like that serious tone, that more dramatic tone from fictional. Here it is in this book. This book began as one book and it grew and grew. And now they decided to turn it into three. So you have a full trilogy coming. And that first piece is available for preorder now. Carissa, since you are the author, what is this book about? Broadly speaking, this book is about Arthurian legend, but it is reimagined into a single story with a through line. And really, for me, it is a story about what you do when you are backed up against the wall and you are trying to balance family and duty and all the responsibilities that you have and all the dreams that you have. What kind of person are you in that moment? You read draft after draft after draft. I haven't read it as many times as you, but yeah. You still cried at the end. Oh my gosh, I bawled twice. So that's a good thing. That's the endorsement I need. You are smiling so big and so am I right now. This is a really exciting moment. We're so excited to share this story with you. It's available for pre-order right now. So I put some links in the show notes. They're all right there. And yeah, we're so excited for you to read it and hear it actually. The audio book will be us on mic for so many hours. Yeah. So For the King, published by William Morrow. Pre-order it today. The creature this time is the Wapaloose, a fearsome critter from North America. Saying caterpillar squirrel doesn't really communicate, I think, just how off-putting it would be to see a Wapaloose. It's a squirrel the size of a small dachshund, which would already be a little scary. But to add to the fact that it looks like a dachshund, with its long body, it has woodpecker-like talons instead of feet and a spiked tail. It's said to be like a squirrel that climbs effortlessly up a tree. You know, because squirrels are such famously bad climbers. And it does so like a caterpillar. It extends its front half out, grabs on, brings up the back half to meet it, and causes its back to fold and makes sort of a hump. It uses its spiked tail to hold on when it needs extra grip. I don't know about you, but this seems like way more effort than I've seen any squirrel ever use to climb. But those squirrels don't get to feast on the bracket fungus that grows high in the trees, so, you know, lucky Wapaloosie. As we talked about long ago in episode 66, the wild regions of North America used to be covered in tall, old-growth forests, few of which now remain. Looking out my window in suburban Ohio, I'm not seeing much bracket fungi toward the tops, but I also don't see a lot of trees that could support a dachshund squirrel beyond the first dozen or so feet, so that could explain why these are no longer with us in noteworthy numbers. It's for sure not because of their pelts. The first few lumberjacks who saw these noticed two things. They look really soft, and they were remarkably easy to kill. For a very little while, the plush gloves made from them protected cold lumberjack fingies, but they made an already dangerous profession even worse, because, loosening the grip on axes, the lumberjacks found that the fur had a mind of its own, and would reflexively climb up any axe handle or tool to reach the top. Unable to get it under control, the lumberjacks threw the gloves away. And they were all last seen slinking through the underbrush toward the nearest tree. That's it for this time. Myths and Legends is by Jason and Carissa Weiser. Our theme song is by Broke for Free, and the Creature of the Week music is by Steve Combs. There are links to even more of the music we used in the show notes. Thank you so much for listening, and we'll see you next time. starting a business means wearing many hats designer marketer manager while chasing your vision shopify powers millions of businesses with tools to build beautiful stores create content and market with ease from inventory to shipping everything runs smoothly if you're ready to sell you're ready for Shopify. Sign up for your 1 euro trial today at shopify.nl. That's shopify.nl.