The Beautiful Cockroach

I once met the most beautiful cockroach in the world. Among her kind, her beauty was a legend, and even I was amazed, for I swore she was a cricket or a beetle, and I couldn’t believe she was the cockroach she claimed to be.

“You are unlike any roach I have seen before. How are you so beautiful?” I asked.

“It is true, I am the most beautiful cockroach in the world,” she said. “And my story is the saddest you will ever hear—but my life has always been one of extremes. My father was the richest and most powerful king the world has ever seen. And I was his most beautiful daughter, the most beautiful princess in the world. No man was worthy of my hand and my father feared that someday one of his enemies might come for me, his most precious treasure, so he kept me hidden away in my tent, under robes and veils.

“My father had more slaves than could be counted in a lifetime. They did everything for me, so that I never had to lift a finger. Every slave had only one task to do and every hair on my head had its own slave. They were fat and well fed; their lives were not difficult. But in return for this, they had to do everything perfectly. Any mistake was cause for death.

“All my slaves were woman but one: a Boy, whom my father did not fear, because he was terribly ugly. He was the smallest creature you have ever seen, bent nearly double with a camel's hump on his back. He could not walk, but crawled on his hands and knees. He was always covered in a black shroud that hid his ugliness. But I did not know this then. I had to hide behind a curtain when he came in and all I knew of him was his voice. His task was the hardest of all—he had to tell me what I wanted to hear.

“What I wanted to hear were stories about beautiful princesses free to leave their tents and see the world. Boy was perfect; he made no mistakes. His stories stretched from before time began until long after the universe ended. He knew every planet circling every star swirling in every galaxy. And he knew every princess that ever was or would be and every single amazing thing they did. Boy's mind was a map of this universe and countless others.

“And his voice... his voice was the perfect instrument.”

“For all his riches, my father was a fool. Could he not hear this instrument? Could he have been so deaf? How could he not see what would happen to a lonely girl, locked away with such a beautiful sound. Yes, I was in love and I had a plan.

“'Boy, tell me the story of a princess, locked away in her tent, under robe and veil. Tell me how she escapes and finds her love.'

“Boy was quiet for a long time. Finally he spoke, ‘That is a story that ends in a dark place. Are you sure you want to hear it Princess?’

“Perhaps I was a fool too, but I was in love. 'Boy, I've told you what I want to hear. If you don't tell me, my father will kill you.'

“‘As you wish. This princess, the richest and most beautiful in the world, was also the poorest, for she had never seen anything but the patterns of her tent and the eyes of her many slaves. But she had fallen in love with a slave she had never seen. And a girl in love thinks nothing of danger.

‘This beautiful Princess devised a plan to escape her father's watchful eye and run away into the desert with her love. She told her slave to cover himself in one of her many robes and veils. He did as he was told. She then came out from behind her curtain and covered herself in his simple black shroud. “I am going to find the witch in the desert that lives beneath the sun; she hates my father and will help me to escape. Wait here, slave. My father will come to see me and when he finds you he will threaten to kill you. Tell him you were following my orders but you know where I am. Tell him I am in the desert near the ancient well. He will take you there, but when he cannot find me, he will tie you up and leave you there to die of heat, thirst, and madness. Do not worry, I will come at sunset and untie your ropes, and you and I shall runaway together. I love you, slave, and wish to be yours as much as you are already mine.’

‘Slave did as he was told. Soon the king entered his daughter's tent. He loved to remove her veil and stare into the eyes of his greatest treasure. But all he found was the face of a poor slave! The king did just as Princess had said he would. They rode to the ancient well and his soldiers searched the land for the Princess.

“Slave,” said the King, “you will die a terrible death out here.” A rope was found, and slave was tied up by his arms. The king lowered him into the well and left him hanging there so that he would live longer and endure even greater pain.

‘Princess found the home of the desert witch, a frightfully old woman she'd heard of in stories all her life. The witch sat in the darkest corner of her hut, chewing on sticks and bones. She had just the slightest wisps of gray hair left on her head, which would sometimes slip into her mouth and rest there until her dark gums had chewed through them.

‘”Princess,” the witch said in a voice like blowing sand, “you have come to find your love."

‘”Yes, he waits for me at the ancient well.”

‘”He will be yours, child, I will promise you that. But you must promise me that you will always love him completely. Always and forever. He is a special boy, and I will never let anyone hurt him.”

‘”I love him more than the entire world. I love his voice completely, and nothing else matters.”

“I told Boy to stop. I'd heard everything I needed to know. He did as he was told and covered himself in a robe and veil. I came out from behind my curtain and covered myself in his black shroud. I crawled from my tent and went towards the dunes. Hidden by the sand, I walked towards the sun, because the desert witch lives directly beneath it. I found her there and made my promise.

“We found the ancient well, and I took hold of the rope that hung over the side. I looked over the edge of the well and, in the last reflections of the setting sun, I finally saw my love.

“I was the daughter of the king and was no less a fool. I saw my love. I saw his terrible face, his worthless legs, his disfigured back and yes, for a moment, I forgot his voice, I forgot his mind. A moment was all it took.

“The desert witch screamed like a storm rising over the endless dunes, ‘You lied, princess, you know nothing of love. My boy is too good for a beautiful cockroach like you. You will become the lowliest of slaves! You will spend your life cleaning up the skin, the hair, and the filth of man. You will live in the darkest shadows of the dirtiest pits, now and forever!’”