A Lemming Named Choice

There once was a lemming named Choice. Choice was known by most of the other lemmings as being just a little bit different. When they would play games he would often suggest varying the game a bit or altering the rules. “Why do you want to change the rules?” his friends would sometimes ask. “Because I think it would be more fun!” would often be his reply. When the lemming children would sing songs Choice would begin singing different notes than the other lemming children. “Why don’t you just sing the regular notes Choice?” some would ask. “It sounds nice to me” Choice would say, adding “I call it ‘harmony’”. The lemming children found his antics to be odd but tolerable.

Then a day came when many of the elder lemmings began walking away from their home. Many of the other lemmings wondered where they were going and began to follow. Several of the remaining lemmings were afraid that they would be left alone if they didn’t go too, and soon all of the lemmings were walking in a great mysterious procession.

“Where are we going?” some of the lemmings would ask, but none seemed to know. “Just trust the elders” some of the lemmings would say. “They have always been the wisest among us, we should have faith in them” others would add. “It must be some place better than where we were, shouldn’t it?” some would suggest. “Of course it is, why else would they be taking us there if it wasn’t something better?” “One shouldn’t question the elders. It’s disrespectful” some of the lemmings began to say.

So onward they marched in curious fidelity, unaware of their destination or why they were leaving, but patriotic and compliant to the whims of the elders. Choice, feeling uncomfortable with all of this decided to go to the front of the march to talk to some of the elders and find out exactly what this exodus was really all about.

“So hey, wh- wh- where are we going?” Choice asked, a bit out of breath from scurrying all the way to the front of the line. He had found what appeared to be the leading elder and figured he would be the best person to talk to. “To the great unknown” he quipped matter-of-factly, barely bothering to turn his head. “Okay” Choice complied. “Hey, where is ‘The Great Unknown’” Choice continued. “Well think about it for a moment child. Why do you suppose it would be called ‘The Great Unknown’ in the first place?” he responded. “Ummm because you don’t know where it is?” Choice guessed. “Precisely” said the elder, quite satisfied with himself. “Well then why are we going there?” continued Choice. “Young fellow, throughout lemming history the elders have always lead the great procession to the great unknown. It has been a time honored tradition with us and it is now our time to lead. We lead with honor.” The elder seemed very self assured with his mission, but Choice was not satisfied with his answer. He still didn’t know where they were all going or why. “Can you tell me why we are going? Is it better there?” The elder lemming seemed to be getting annoyed with Choices unending inquiries. “There are some things that we just don’t ask in lemming world. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a procession to lead.” The elder turned his head triumphantly forward and marched purposefully on.

Choice, feeling bewildered by all of this decided to sneak a peak at what lay ahead. He ran far ahead of the lemming march to see what they could look forward to arriving at from their present direction. Suddenly he came to the edge of a tall foreboding cliff. Below were jagged treacherous rocks and huge crashing waves that would surely destroy any lemming that continued forward on their present course.

“Hey elders” cried Choice as he returned to meet the front of the procession. “There’s a huge cliff up ahead. We’ll need to turn somewhere to get to ‘The Great Unknown”.

“This is the path that our ancestors have been taking for generations. We would not disrespect them by deeming it unfit for ourselves. If this is where they went then this is where we shall follow. I lead with honor.” With that the lead elder arrived at the edge of the cliff and without hesitation leaped from atop it and plummeted to the rocks below. “Oh no!” cried Choice horrified by her decision. “Where the elders lead we will follow” droned some other lemmings as they too leaped from the cliff. “No, no, no don’t do this!” Choice pleaded. “It would be disrespectful not to” others responded.

“But you’ll die if you keep going” Choice tried to reason; “You don’t have to do this”. But the masses continued launching and plummeting in blind conformity. Some even found joviality in the event, “Dude relax. It’s a party. Here, check it out; Cannon Baaaaaalllll”.

Choice was aghast at what he was seeing and grew helplessly numb. “I don’t understand.” He persisted, “I want to be with you all but I want to live, L-I-V-E, LIVE with you guys; not destroy myself”. But no-one seemed willing to heed his cries.

It all seemed to be a terrible dream. The tears in his eyes blurred the ongoing lemmicide and his head began to swim. Then, just as a few last lemmings fell to their demise, he noticed a small group of young lemmings huddled in a clump of grass. He walked over to them and silently stared for a moment. “Do we have to go too?” one of them meekly asked. Choice felt his heart lift. “We don’t want to jump. Can we go back to lemming world?” Choice felt incredibly relieved and joyful that some of his dear lemming family remained and that he wouldn’t have to be alone. “Yes” he spoke, “We can go back”. His words soothed him, like friends tending to his wounded soul. “You don’t have to jump and we can all just live and be happy”. He joined the group and they shared a long sweet embrace that lingered in their hearts for the rest of their very long and very happy lives.

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