Gavin, the silver-suited man, and the Mayfly - a cautionary tale

With apologies to the Brothers Grimm.

Gavin lived in an old timber house in Darfield in the middle of tall trees and dusty paddocks, where he grew crops and kept a flock of sheep. He wore a brown woolly jumper with the elbows worn out. These days, the summers are getting longer, drier, and windier.

One morning a man in a silver suit came to his door and offered him abundance if only he would buy from him a magical water-making machine. An oil portrait of Gavin’s Grandmother hung above the hearth. From her place on the wall, she spoke.

“You only need enough but not too much,” said she.

“Lest greed will be the ruin of thee.”

The silver-suited man laughed and retorted,

“More we need, we all need more,

to keep the devil from the door.”

Gavin was getting grey, his back was creaky, and he worried that he would never be able to sell his land to support his old age if he didn’t have the magical water machine. He handed all his money to the silver-suited man, and diggers carved his land to lay pipes, and they cut down his old trees and swaying shelter belts to fit in giant steel arcs that spewed water across the barren ground. Gavin’s hair became a little more grey.

The silver-suited man told Gavin that to pay his debts he would have to sell his flock of sheep and buy cows instead, and also to sprinkle magic dust on the ground to make the grass grow thick and green.

Grandmother spoke from above the hearth.

“You only need enough but not too much,” said she.

“Lest greed will be the ruin of thee.”

The silver-suited man laughed louder than before.

“More we need, we all need more,

to keep the devil from the door.”

Gavin bought the magic dust called urea, and sure enough, the grass did grow up thick green, and now 600 cows filled the fields. The cows needed to be milked so Gavin mortgaged his house to build a shiny new milking shed.

Each morning at 5 am Gavin rose to rustle the bulky, black and white cows from the fields and into the shed for milking. They bellowed lowly, stared fearfully, and the smell of their waste permeated all the land and even into the living room where grandmother’s portrait creased her nose. Gavin’s hair became a little more grey and some fell out at the roots. His debts didn’t shrink but grew.

The silver-suited man came a third time to his door and told him he needed more cows and extra food for the cows and more magic dust to make more milk fat to pay the bank. Grandmother spoke sharply from above the hearth.

“You only need enough but not too much,” said she.

“Lest greed will be the ruin of thee.”

The silver-suited man laughed louder still.

“More we need, we all need more,

to keep the devil from the door.”

Gavin duly doubled his mortgage, and now a thousand cows bellowed and trudged about his land, leaving great pugs in the earth.

One morning after milking the cows, Gavin carried his creaky body back to the old timber house and opened his fridge and pantry, and, all but for an urn of milk, they were bare. There was not meat nor potatoes nor greens nor fruit nor bread nor honey nor spice. Gavin took his fishing line and walked to the rear of his land where the weeping willow dipped down to the creek. “I will catch me a trout for supper,” he said – “like I used to as a boy.”

When he neared the creek, he smelled the stench of decay. “What is this stink that doubles even that of the stock?” Where his childhood creek had flowed clear now was a gluggy murky trickle, thick with green muck rotting in the sun. Gavin’s hair went all white, he fell to his hip, and wept.

“Oh my stars, what have I done?

I’ve sold my soul to the silver-suited one

Rather than keep the devil from the door

I’m worse off than I was before

Now I see it, now I see

Greed has been the ruin of me.”

As he spent his sorrow, he heard a tiny cry – “help, help!” Gavin looked about but couldn’t see anyone. Then again, he heard the tiny cry. Gavin looked down, and there by the creek hovered a Mayfly. “What is it, little insect?” he asked. The Mayfly replied:

“Where our creek flowed silver and blue

Now there are weeds and piss and poo.”

“Yes I can see it too,” said Gavin.

“While you may merely cry,” said the Mayfly. “My home is lost, so I will die.”

“Then what are we to do?” asked Gavin. Mayfly replied: “Reduce the stock; return the flock; sow bright flowers for honey bees; fence the streams; plant up trees; cut urea and PKE. Then the worms will return, the soil will sweeten, and the rivers will replenish.”

Gavin heard the wisdom of Mayfly. “I only need enough but not too much,” he resolved. He began to follow Mayfly’s instructions by firstly reducing the herd to one third. In spring the heavens opened and the land was soaked afresh and the offal pit filled with water.

The next day walking up the gravel drive strode the silver-suited man. “What foolery is this?” he bellowed. “The fields are scantily filled – you’ll never pay your bills!”

Gavin rebuked the man:

“You have piled on me burdens worse than ever before

And turned me pale.

Your magical water machine and magic dust are a trick to make money for banks and brokers and charlatans,

And so send me bust.

I will pay no more.

For you are the devil at my door!”

The silver-suited man laughed and then stood dumbfounded, whereupon the Mayfly flew up and farted in his face. The man stomped, turned red and blustered about the fields until he tripped in a cow pug, toppled into the offal pit, and drowned.

The oil portrait of Grandma uncrinkled her nose and smiled wryly above the fireplace.

Gavin returned sheep to his land and kept them for wool and meat and milked them, also making the richest, sweetest milk in all the world, which he sold at his gate for a pretty penny. He seeded flowers and diverse plants in his fields, including nut-trees and hemp and barley. Sure enough, the land blossomed, and the soil sweetened to hold water through the dry months so that the spewing steel arcs were dismantled and sent away for scrap.

One fine evening, Gavin took his fishing line to the creek, which flowed crystal and free, and there with his friend Mayfly, whose family danced about the stream bank. He laughed in the yellow sunset, and they all lived happily ever after.