“elements
of a story”
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SHORT STORY ELEMENT
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WHAT IS IT?
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EXAMPLE
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SETTING
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The time
and location in which a story takes place is called the setting.
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Develops over the life of a child; Park where a
tree can grow.
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PLOT
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Is the
structure of events within a story and the
causal relationship between them. The Elements of Plot
Development.
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The different age of this child and the tree.
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CONFLICT
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A problem usually concerning the main character in a story.
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The boy was very selfish. The tree was often
forgotten by the child.
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CHARACTER
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The characters in a story are the people who experience the events of the
plot.
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The child and the tree.
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POINT
OF VIEW
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When we
talk of the point of view of a short story, we are simply saying, “How do I tell this story.
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Story very interesting, because is necessary that
the other people or situation show us the things important of the life.
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THEME
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Is often used to describe
a topical issue that runs through the story.
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The relationship between true friends.
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Vusi Makusi
Vusi Makusi was a terminal
optimist. He was an optimist even though he lived in one of the poorest places
in the world, even though he only owned one suit, and his trousers didn't reach
his ankles.
When he had finished his
education, Vusi Makusi decided the civil service would be a good career. The
man in charge took one look at Vusi, and saw immediately that he would never
amount to anything.
"You know, I think I
have just the post for an ambitious young man," he said.
Vusi spent a long time on a
bus. The bus shuddered and shook and clanked, passing deeper and deeper
into the jungle. Eventually it came to a halt in a swampy hollow, entirely
surrounded by forest.
"But where is the
village?" asked Vusi.
The bus driver pointed.
"What day does the bus
return?"
"Saturday," said
the bus driver, grumpily. Vusi had spent the last twenty hours telling everyone
on the bus about his new job, and the driver was sick of him.
Vusi tramped through the
hills to the village. He knocked on the door of the chief's hut, and sat down
to wait. The whole village came to stare at him. When at last the chief
appeared, Vusi stood up.
"Good Sir," he
said. "I am the new government officer for this area. I have come to bring
peace, prosperity, unity, development, and education to the people. I have come
to show the beneficence and munificence of our great and benign government.
Whatever the village needs, whether it be roads, schools, seeds, water,
tractors, teachers or doctors, the government is willing to provide. All I must
do is make a list, and it will certainly arrive."
The chief stared at Vusi,
then began to laugh. He laughed ah-ha, ah-ha, ahhhhhhhh-hahahahahah. The
people rolled around, slapping each other in mirth.
"Young man," said
the chief, at last. "It is some time since we have had a visiting
comedian."
"But Sir," said
Vusi. "I am quite serious."
The chief laughed some
more, ahahahahah!
"Good Sir, please
desist! Cannot you see that my respected mother, 83 years old, is in pain from
your joshing? Do you want an old lady to break her ribs?" he cried.
That night there was a
special dinner for Vusi. It was only the next day, when Vusi began touring the
village with a clipboard, that they became worried.
"He is a lunatic, and
they have cast him out from the city," said the priest.
"He is a spy, and is
making that list so they can steal everything," said the chief's wife.
"I think he has hit
his head, and that is why he strange," said the blacksmith.
When twenty-eight days had
passed, Vusi visited the chief. He explained that he had worked four weeks in a
row, was due eight days leave, and that he intended to visit his elderly
mother. He also asked to borrow the chief's umbrella, and offered to buy him a
new one, just as soon as he got to the city, where he could draw his shiny new
government salary from his shiny new bank account.
The chief, shaking his
head, agreed to lend him the umbrella. Vusi went to the chief's wife and asked
to borrow a blanket. Then he went next to the village blacksmith and asked for
a knife, since it was a long walk to the bus stop, and the path was overgrown.
Then he walked off, carrying his battered suitcase.
"Surely somebody
should tell him, there is no bus," said the chief.
They waited and waited.
Eventually the blacksmith went down the valley and found Vusi waiting by the
dirt track.
"He says the bus will
surely come soon," explained the blacksmith, "And he does not want to
miss it." When two days had passed, the chief himself descended and tried
to talk sense to Vusi. He returned, shaking his head. The priest tried, with no
more success.
"He is immune to
reason," said the chief's wife. "Therefore we must appeal to the
heart, or the eyes. Send the potter's daughter, she is the prettiest girl in
the village."
The potter's daughter
returned, shrugging hopelessly.
"Send the priest's
niece," suggested the blacksmith. "She is not perhaps quite the
prettiest, but the smartest and sharpest of the women, and clever with
words."
The villagers worked their
way through all the young women, till there was only one left.
"Well, she might as
well try," said the chief, yawning. Then he went inside, for a nap.
The girl stormed off down
the path. She was so angry to be considered the plainest and stupidest girl in
the village that when she saw Vusi, she threw a mango stone at him.
"Idiot! Lunatic!"
she shouted. "Do what you want and see if I care! Do you think anyone will
even notice if you sit there till you turn to stone!" Then, because she
was so upset, she burst into tears.
Vusi stared at the girl. He
fell to his knees.
"Dear lady," he
said, "You must forgive me! This excess of emotion can only have been
brought on by the burden of concealing your true feelings. If I seemed
oblivious to your affections it is only that you had not declared them. Why, if
I had known that you loved me, I should never have behaved so callously. What
good news! When the bus arrives, and I go and see my mother, I shall tell her I
have met my future wife. Praise the lord! Until then, perhaps you will be so
kind as to pass a little while with me, waiting."
Since all this was a good
deal more pleasant than being told she was plain and stupid, the girl consented
to wait. Vusi began to tell her about the future, and how wonderful everything
would be. He told her about the tractors and clinics and schools and water
pumps and fat cows and plump chickens and huge vegetables and smiling people
and tin roofs and television and clean toilets and post offices and telephones
and paved roads and airplanes and skyscrapers and regular, timely buses to all
rural destinations.
In the morning it began to
rain. Vusi put up the chief's umbrella. It rained and rained. A small red
monkey appeared and sat on the far side of the track. It looked sad and
bedraggled.
"Look, the monkey is
waiting to get on the bus!" said Vusi.
"But Vusi, he does not
have a bag, or a suitcase," said the girl.
"You are right,"
agreed Vusi, "Therefore it is expecting relatives to arrive on the bus,
and is waiting to greet them."
After a while the monkey
began to shiver.
"Vusi," said the
girl, "Either let the monkey come under the umbrella, or chase it away. I
cannot stand looking at its sad face any longer."
"Why, of course it
must come under the umbrella," said Vusi. "After all the monkey too
is a citizen of our great and glorious nation."
The monkey, Vusi, and the
girl sat under the umbrella. It went on raining. A great pool built up in the
hollow.
"Surely," said
the girl, who was coming to understand how Vusi thought, "The people of
our great nation should not have to wait for buses in the rain. Since you are
the government officer, you could cut branches and make a shelter while we are
waiting. This would be a service for all the people."
"I see you are not
just a pretty face," said Vusi, nodding. "Only, if the bus comes
while I am cutting branches, you must shout and call me, for I do not want to
disappoint my elderly mother."
So Vusi took the knife and
cut branches, and made a shelter.
Vusi and the girl waited in
the shelter. The monkey sat in the roof. Another day passed, and another and
another. The rain ceased, briefly. The chief of the village came down the
track. He shook his head, and went home. The pool in the river continued to
widen, and Vusi caught a fish for dinner. Nothing passed on the road, nothing
whatsoever.
Vusi and the girl waited in
the shelter. They waited so long, the girl had a baby.
"How happy my mother
will be when she sees the child!" cried Vusi.
"Surely, my
husband" said the girl, "People will be waiting for buses here with
children. I think they must have a place to lie down, and sleep quietly."
Vusi took the knife and cut
more branches, and made a second room. Outside the door, the mango stone
sprouted, and grew leaves. A second monkey moved in with the first one. The
monkeys too had a baby. It rained and it rained. The river rose and fell.
"Vusi," said the
girl. "One day this will be a busy bus terminal. There will be many
passengers, and whoever can provide food and drink will have a profitable
business. I think I had better prepare,
and plant corn for porridge, and maize to make beer. Then you will not only be
government officer, but I will be a businesswoman."
So she turned up the soil
by the riverbank, and planted a garden. Then she went in the hut, and had
another baby.
"I do believe I must
have misheard that gentleman," said Vusi, one day. "Surely it cannot
have been Saturday that the bus arrives, it must have been January. Only there
has been none for three years now. They will arrive all at once, three of them.
That is a famous habit of buses."
"Vusi," said the
girl, "If there are three busloads of people, I do not have enough food.
Besides, a good restaurant has a variety of dishes. Go into the jungle, and
catch a pair of those birds we have seen, and I can keep them. That way, we
will have enough for everyone."
"It is a good
idea," said Vusi. "Only if the buses arrive and I am in the jungle,
you must ask them to wait."
The girl stayed by the
roadside, waiting. Nothing passed. Not even the villagers came any more. After
five days Vusi returned, clutching two startled guinea fowl.
"I have not missed the
bus?" he asked anxiously. His wife reassured him.
"It is the
weather," said Vusi. "It has been very strange recently, and I think
the bus will not come this year. Nonetheless, since they are so unpredictable,
it would be a shame to leave this spot. Especially since we have made so many
preparations, with the hotel and the restaurant."
That year passed.
"Vusi," said the
girl, "You must build a fence to keep the guinea fowl in. It will not do
if they are run over by the buses."
Another year passed.
"Vusi," said the
girl, "The fish do not stay in the dry season. What if the bus comes when
there are no fish? How will I feed the passengers? You must build a dam in the
river."
Another year passed. The
girl had another baby.
"Certainly this
service is very unacceptable," said Vusi one day. "When the bus does
come to take us to the city, I will write a letter to the minister of
transport. The only good point, my wife, is that every week, my salary is
building up in my government-run bank account."
Another year passed. The
bus did not come. The mango tree began producing very good mangoes. They waited
so long, Vusi began to worry about who his eldest son would marry.
Then, one day a strange
noise began in the jungle. It seemed to echo around.
"The bus! The
bus!" cried Vusi's children, for they had heard from their father of this
strange monster.
Over the edge of the hill
came a white helicopter with the letters U.N. painted on the side. It put down
in the roadway, and four nervous-looking soldiers in blue berets climbed out.
Then a couple of scientists in white coats, clutching clipboards, their faces
covered with hygienic masks. Finally came a politician in a suit, holding a
handkerchief to his nose, and a general, clutching a tin hat. They stared at
Vusi. They stared at his wife, and at his seven children.
"I see," said
Vusi. "They are upgrading the service, and now there are helicopters
instead. That is why we have been waiting so long!"
"What are you doing
here?" said the politician.
"Why, we are waiting
for the bus," said Vusi, quite calmly.
"But how did you
survive the civil war?" asked the general.
"Civil war?" said
Vusi, looking puzzled.
"Yes, the civil war
that wiped out half the population," said the politician.
"Certainly we have not
seen any soldiers," said Vusi, shaking his head.
"But even if you
escaped the civil war, how did you survive the famine that killed half the
survivors?" asked the general.
"Famine?" said
Vusi's wife. She looked around at the mango trees, the millet bushes, the coops
with fat guinea fowl.
"Ok, even if you
escaped the war and the famine, how did you survive the virus?" asked one
of the scientists.
"Virus?" said
Vusi. "What virus?"
"The deadly virus
which wiped out all the survivors of the war and the famine," said the
second scientist. "You know, the incurably fatal one to which no human or
ape was immune, except for the extremely rare and almost extinct lesser
red-haired lemur?"
A small monkey climbed onto
Vusi's shoulder and began to nibble his ear in a familiar manner. Vusi brushed
it off, distractedly.
"It is strange you say
this," he said, thoughtfully. "I cannot remember any of us being
sick."
"Vusi," said his
wife, tugging at his elbow. "Invite them to dinner. They can be our first
customers!"
"Certainly," said
Vusi, nodding. "Fish or guinea fowl?"
But the politicians and the
scientists and the soldiers looked quite terrified, and cringed back towards
their helicopter.
"We have to go,"
said the General.
"Certainly we must get
you out of here," said the politician, forcefully. "You will get all
kinds of things. Aid, assistance, help, clean clothes, a house, electricity, a
proper toilet, everything. You will be famous, and newspapers will interview
you."
"Why, thank you,"
said Vusi, politely. "But we cannot leave; we are waiting for the bus.
However there is one favour you can do for me. Do you have paper and pen?"
Vusi sat down and penned a
short note to the transport minister complaining about the unreliability of
rural buses. Then he put it in the politician's hand.
After the helicopter had
gone, Vusi seemed a little downcast.
"Famine, war,
diseases, surely it cannot be true of our beautiful country?" he said.
"Perhaps they are
lying," suggested his wife. "Let us walk to the top of the hill and
see what is really happening."
Vusi and his wife walked up
the old road that no-one had used for years. It was covered in boulders,
cracked and broken. Rivers had torn it apart. At last, they came to the top of
the hill. Vanishing into the distance was a wasteland of flattened trees, burnt
tanks, ruined villages and abandoned fields.
Vusi and his wife walked
home, hand in hand. Vusi was rather quiet. His wife went to get dinner. Vusi
sat down, his wife and children around him. He looked very thoughtful. At last
he spoke.
"My wife," he
said, "I know that sometimes there are those who have considered me a
fool. Yet I cannot but think that as I said, everything I have done has turned
out for the best."
And
then he applied himself, with some appetite, to a large plate of guinea fowl.
