The Apple Tree

Chapter Twelve

He took a moment before speaking again, “A long time ago, before time was kept there was a little boy whose only family was his aging mother and an older brother. But one day his brother left, heading towards the seas as a workman on a ship of trade.

As the days past the little boy waited for his brother to return. The seasons would change long before that would happen. The boy’s mother became ill as the air turned cold and food was sparse on her plate.

After a particularly hard bout of sickness the old woman closed her eyes to go to sleep and found herself in eternal slumber. The boy was left alone waiting for a brother that was off on an adventure to return.

The people of the small seaside village took in the small boy and he grew under their care. They gave him the left over food from their plates and the old clothes from their backs.

Then several years later the boat that had taken away his brother returned.

It’s iron head of a woman gleamed as the sun hit it. The boy left the long list of chores the town had given him and ran to the port, anxious to see his brother’s face.

But after hours of sitting in front of the port and people piling out from the large sea vessel a crew member asked who he was waiting to see. The boy replied eagerly, knowing that he most likely knew the whereabouts of his brother.

The man’s expression softened quickly into a mask of sadness. He told the boy that a few moths prior to their return he had been killed in a fight that had broken out on board.

 The man told the boy his brother died an honorable death. For he himself had not been fighting but trying to stop both parties from hurting one another.

The boy shook the mans hand and left with out another word. Months past and the boy found he needed an escape. So he spent his days imagining the life his brother once led. One of bravery and honor.

He decided that was what he wanted to do. It pulled at his soul with such a persistent urgency he found himself unable to eat or sleep.

After a month of living like this he went back to the peer and met with the older man once more.

He told the man of his desire to join the crew and the man eyed him warily, not knowing if the boy could handle the same life as he did. But after days and days of the boy begging the man reluctantly got him a job.

And so the boy prepared to leave the village. A part of him knew he would never return to the small town again. So he packed anything and everything of value to him. The day arrived for him to leave and he felt exhilarated. He felt so close to something, something that would change his life forever, it was heartbreaking.

The ship left with him aboard and he worked on it, diligently doing whatever was asked of him. They would stop every now and then to make trades and stock up on fresh water and food.

And then after months and months of being on the boat they stopped at a dry desert like port. The air blew hot sand onto their faces and into their eyes. The dry wind whipped past them and beat into their skins.

Many of the men decided to stay aboard for this trade. But not the boy. He rushed off the ship into the shallow water below with a need to explore this new world that was within his grasp.

But the more he walked the less he could seem to remember the direction of where the boat lie. He was lost.

With no means of finding the ship again. So he walked more hoping to finds some sort of civilization before the bitter cold of night fell on his shoulders. He walked until the heat was gone and the beginning of a frigid night began. As the sky turned dark he saw lights off in the distance.

So he ran in the direction of the twinkling lights until he reached a wall that was three times his height and appeared to go on forever in either direction. He found a large wooden gate somewhere in what he determined to be the middle.

He begged to be let in but they refused saying outsiders were unwelcome. So he lies down in the sand and fell asleep out of exhaustion.

Days would pass, he found himself starving to death. He had a thing of water that he had rationed out for days, but that had run dry the day before. He was dying. He found the coolest spot on the far side of the wall and laid down expecting to die.

But sometime during the night he woke up to the smell of hot bread. He opened his eyes and found a thing of water, and a plate of honeyed bread. He drank the water, gulping it down. Loving the way it flowed down his throat. He ate the bread and savored having food in his stomach.

He ate too fast and almost threw up from the weight and richness of it. ‘Do you like the food’ He had been so stunned and hungry, that all he noticed earlier was the food, and not the girl that had brought it to him.

 She was young, probably only a few years younger than him though.

He told her he liked the food and water. And that he was grateful.

‘I felt it would be wrong to sit and watch you die. I feel you are greater than this. We don’t have a lot of food, but I stole what I could without my family noticing.’

‘Why do you not have a lot of food? Are you from a poor family?’

‘No, my town it dying, for the water that once flowed to our village has stopped. And we are not allowed to leave the village because our leader is too proud of a man to go ask other villages for help.’

            ‘I see.’ Said the young man. A plan forming in his mind. And as the plan formed he felt something scream at him telling him that this is what he was meant for.

The girl said she had to leave quickly, before someone noticed her absence.

They said their goodbye’s and he got up, filled with a new energy he had never before. He journeyed the rest of that night going in the opposite direction of the village, to the direction from which he came.

He traveled far. And soon he found the river that he had last seen the boat on. He followed the river, tracing it back towards the village, seeing where it stopped, a block or rocks had failed just so that the flow of the water dwindled to a stop.

He spent his night picking the rocks out of the river, from the side where the water no longer ran. And before long he couldn’t stand in the ditch anymore, for the water was flowing full force against his body.

He followed the river all the way back to the village; it took him several nights, for he was in no hurry. When he finally arrived there seemed to be a celebration going on. He knocked on the gate and the young girl opened it, ‘I knew you would save us! I could sense it in my bones!’

He was welcomed to the village with open arms.”

Mychel paused for a moment, “Yeah, well that’s the end of the story. What do you think?”

“I liked it.”

“Cool.” He smiled.

The night from a few weeks ago with the moon flashed in my mind. Maybe the solution to my problems was as simple as the man from the story moving rocks.

knots. I ended the kiss and told him I didn’t want to be late to class. I smiled a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. I looked over at Mychel, “Why don’t we, stay  out here tonight?”

He grinned, “Okay.”

We spent the rest of the night talking. About everything that crossed our minds. We avoided the past and kept to simple subjects. It was great. As the night grew older Mychel seemed to grow in confidence.

It was a perfect night.

Okay guys! Here you go, the long awaited twelth chapter!

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