Beneath the Old Dead Whimsy

May 26, '10 2:07 PM for everyone

The camwrack and belum were in bloom, and all about spring was come into the Vally.

"Pull boy, pull" said father, and the boy pulled with him on the yoke. Together they tore the earth with one staggered stride, followed by another. By midday half the south field was furrowed.

"Ohi, let's out of the sun for a bit," said the father, and the two went to the shade and lay there breathing heavy.

"Da, I'm hungry" said the boy.

"I know boy. Plow today, hunt tomorrow." was the answer. The older man reached over and patted the younger on the head.

They lay a while, watching in silence the blueness of the sky wheel overhead, passed the broad leaves. Then the father rose, and then the boy.

The afternoon was harder, blisters bled, hunger gnawed, but the earth was patient, and the plow persistent. Dusk caught them both by surprise. They looked over what they had done, and gave one another a satisfied nodded at the fullness of the days work. If things went well they would both live through this next winter.

On the way back to the cabin they came to a quiet place, where the belum grew thick, and an old dead whimsy hung over it all. An "X" was carved into the whimsy's bark. The boy touched the mark, then stood before a small nearby mound in silence. The father touched his head, and said, "Go and fetch a stone, and set it here.

The boy gave a little smile, and went quickly to the piles, for the day was now only a memory in the sky, and soon he would be left in dark. The piles were no place to be in the dark.

He went up, passed two stone lions, and onto one of the piles. There was a nice piece of squared stone, smooth lines carved into its surface with such purpose that the must once have had meaning. For a bit the boy studied the lines, wondering at their intent.

He lifted the cool brown stone onto his shoulder and carried it to the mound under the whimsy, by the blooming belum. Father had already left, and would be heating greens over the fire. In the last of the fading light the boy reached out and traced the lines on the stone. They would mean mother, he decided, and then the world was in darkness.