apc short story: Just a Tree
Just a Tree
Today was the first day of autumn; a celebrated Holiday, a day off, even for the Whyttel family. Stewart woke August from his bed shortly into this first official day of autumn. He wanted to show his brother something he'd never shown anyone before.
"Come on!" whispered Stewart "I want to get back before mom and dad realize that we're gone!"
A ten-year-old August wrestled with his sweater, trying to get into it at the same time as he was putting on his boots.
"Meet me around back of the shop, I'll get dad's lantern and meet you there." Stewart climbed out of the window and jumped down to the grassy backyard.
---
The two boys worked their way through the forest; August followed his brother closely because his brother seemed to be trudging through the woods without direction.
"We're getting far from home, Stewart." August said with a shiver.
"We're almost there August; it's at the bottom of the grove over there."
August followed his brother's finger and saw nothing but more darkness.
They moved on, leaves crunching loudly underfoot. The route eventually turned into a downhill slope. As the two brothers worked their way downward the trees began to thin out. August could now make out the moon through the near-bare branches of the forest's canopy. Once they'd reached the bottom, Stewart did not need to say a single word… August knew what they stood before, and it was incredible.
"How did you find… is that? Stewart…" August was mesmerized.
"Pretty neat, hunh?" Stewart said in a moonlit-grin.
"Wow…" is all August could muster; it felt like he was in the presence of Lady Hylana herself.
"Touch it!" giggled Stewart "Go on… it's just a tree!"
August walked up to the tree and placed his hand palm-open on its trunk. He could feel a warmth coursing through the tree that made him pull his hand away reflexively. This was the largest tree August had ever seen, and exactly the way he had imagined it. The tree's trunk was easily the size of the bedroom he shared with his brother.
---
"You can't do that!" echoed August in the summer heat.
"Oh, come on… it's just a tree!" said Stewart playfully as he pulled at one of the smaller branches.
"Stewart, it's not funny… stop it n…"
*CRACK*
Stewart fell to the ground as the branch snapped. August rushed over to his brother, and his eyes opened wide when he saw what his brother had discovered; it was true.
Stewart laughed. "It does have gold in it!" he said, somewhat in disbelief.
"I told you it did, you didn't have to hurt it Stewart!"
Stewart went quiet. He gripped the branch tightly in his hands; he could hear something... singing?
"Did you hear that August?"
August stared at his brother; all he heard was the summer's breeze.
"Someone's coming! August… run!"
August didn't hesitate. He just picked a direction and ran. He ran up the slope and continued until his legs could no longer keep up the frantic pace. Then he stopped.
"Stewart?" he whispered under labored breath. He then tried his best to hold his breath, hoping to hear his brother's footsteps in the distance.
Nothing. Where did his brother go?
---
Stewart stood still, and watched his brother run away. He wanted to follow but he was paralyzed with fear.
The singing got louder, so loud he could no longer stand it. And then he saw a wispy cowled figure floating down into the grove. The figure approached him, stopping right in front of him. It reached up and pulled back its hood, it was angelic. It reached out and touched his shoulder.
Stewart went weak, dropping the branch.
The singing had stopped. The cowled figure was gone. Stewart just stood there, unsure as to what had just happened.
---
"Why do you keep going there?" August asked as he rubbed his eyes.
Stewart smiled broadly as he climbed into their bedroom through the window. It was still dark out, but he could make out the voices of his parents in the kitchen.
"August, look at this!"
Stewart handed August something wrapped in a supple leather cloth.
"What is it?" August asked.
"Just check it out!"
August opened the cloth, and held an extremely detailed carving of a cowled figure in his hands. He continued to examine the figurine; it had more detail in it than any piece he’d ever seen before.
"Where… where did you get this?”
"Get it? Well brother… would you believe that I made it?"
August smirked. "Sure you did. Where did you find…"
"I’m telling you August, I made it!”
August didn’t know what to think. His brother had never shown any interest in working with wood, ever. It was impossible that he had made this…
"You used majik!?" August said all too loudly.
The two of them went quiet. When the door to their room opened, it was flooded with by light from their father’s lamp.
Their father looked at the two of them, and focused on Stewart who still had his jacket on, not to mention his muddy boots. As his father walked towards Stewart, he reached out and grabbed the figurine from August’s hands with a quick swipe.
His father looked at the figurine briefly.
"Care to explain this, boys?" grumbled their father.
"I made it…" confessed Stewart.
"I know." James replied with disappointment in his voice. "Stewart, I’ve told you before – you should never combine majik and woodworking."
"What do you know, James?" Stewart scorned. "I made that tonight, in just a couple hours!”
"… and you’ll never do it again." James stared at Stewart with an intensity made August shudder. Their father slipped the figurine into his vest pocket and left their room, slamming the door behind him.
---
When August woke, he was cold and wet. He found himself lying on his back in a pool slushy snow at the bottom of the grove. He felt his face; it was scratched up from the branches whipping him in the face as he carelessly ran through the forest earlier that day.
August opened his eyes, and before him was the tree like he had never seen it before. Its entire trunk was ornately carved glyphs and symbols that were so intricate it boggled the mind.
As he sat up he realized he was clenching something in his right hand. He pulled his icy hand from the slush, and began to wipe off the mud and snow. August soon realized it was the same broken branch from when they were just kids, only now it too was as ornate as the tree in front of him.
“Oh Stewart!” exhaled August as he stood up in awe… and he began to cry for his dead brother.
Today was the first day of autumn; a celebrated Holiday, a day off, even for the Whyttel family. Stewart woke August from his bed shortly into this first official day of autumn. He wanted to show his brother something he'd never shown anyone before.
"Come on!" whispered Stewart "I want to get back before mom and dad realize that we're gone!"
A ten-year-old August wrestled with his sweater, trying to get into it at the same time as he was putting on his boots.
"Meet me around back of the shop, I'll get dad's lantern and meet you there." Stewart climbed out of the window and jumped down to the grassy backyard.
---
The two boys worked their way through the forest; August followed his brother closely because his brother seemed to be trudging through the woods without direction.
"We're getting far from home, Stewart." August said with a shiver.
"We're almost there August; it's at the bottom of the grove over there."
August followed his brother's finger and saw nothing but more darkness.
They moved on, leaves crunching loudly underfoot. The route eventually turned into a downhill slope. As the two brothers worked their way downward the trees began to thin out. August could now make out the moon through the near-bare branches of the forest's canopy. Once they'd reached the bottom, Stewart did not need to say a single word… August knew what they stood before, and it was incredible.
"How did you find… is that? Stewart…" August was mesmerized.
"Pretty neat, hunh?" Stewart said in a moonlit-grin.
"Wow…" is all August could muster; it felt like he was in the presence of Lady Hylana herself.
"Touch it!" giggled Stewart "Go on… it's just a tree!"
August walked up to the tree and placed his hand palm-open on its trunk. He could feel a warmth coursing through the tree that made him pull his hand away reflexively. This was the largest tree August had ever seen, and exactly the way he had imagined it. The tree's trunk was easily the size of the bedroom he shared with his brother.
---
"You can't do that!" echoed August in the summer heat.
"Oh, come on… it's just a tree!" said Stewart playfully as he pulled at one of the smaller branches.
"Stewart, it's not funny… stop it n…"
*CRACK*
Stewart fell to the ground as the branch snapped. August rushed over to his brother, and his eyes opened wide when he saw what his brother had discovered; it was true.
Stewart laughed. "It does have gold in it!" he said, somewhat in disbelief.
"I told you it did, you didn't have to hurt it Stewart!"
Stewart went quiet. He gripped the branch tightly in his hands; he could hear something... singing?
"Did you hear that August?"
August stared at his brother; all he heard was the summer's breeze.
"Someone's coming! August… run!"
August didn't hesitate. He just picked a direction and ran. He ran up the slope and continued until his legs could no longer keep up the frantic pace. Then he stopped.
"Stewart?" he whispered under labored breath. He then tried his best to hold his breath, hoping to hear his brother's footsteps in the distance.
Nothing. Where did his brother go?
---
Stewart stood still, and watched his brother run away. He wanted to follow but he was paralyzed with fear.
The singing got louder, so loud he could no longer stand it. And then he saw a wispy cowled figure floating down into the grove. The figure approached him, stopping right in front of him. It reached up and pulled back its hood, it was angelic. It reached out and touched his shoulder.
Stewart went weak, dropping the branch.
The singing had stopped. The cowled figure was gone. Stewart just stood there, unsure as to what had just happened.
---
"Why do you keep going there?" August asked as he rubbed his eyes.
Stewart smiled broadly as he climbed into their bedroom through the window. It was still dark out, but he could make out the voices of his parents in the kitchen.
"August, look at this!"
Stewart handed August something wrapped in a supple leather cloth.
"What is it?" August asked.
"Just check it out!"
August opened the cloth, and held an extremely detailed carving of a cowled figure in his hands. He continued to examine the figurine; it had more detail in it than any piece he’d ever seen before.
"Where… where did you get this?”
"Get it? Well brother… would you believe that I made it?"
August smirked. "Sure you did. Where did you find…"
"I’m telling you August, I made it!”
August didn’t know what to think. His brother had never shown any interest in working with wood, ever. It was impossible that he had made this…
"You used majik!?" August said all too loudly.
The two of them went quiet. When the door to their room opened, it was flooded with by light from their father’s lamp.
Their father looked at the two of them, and focused on Stewart who still had his jacket on, not to mention his muddy boots. As his father walked towards Stewart, he reached out and grabbed the figurine from August’s hands with a quick swipe.
His father looked at the figurine briefly.
"Care to explain this, boys?" grumbled their father.
"I made it…" confessed Stewart.
"I know." James replied with disappointment in his voice. "Stewart, I’ve told you before – you should never combine majik and woodworking."
"What do you know, James?" Stewart scorned. "I made that tonight, in just a couple hours!”
"… and you’ll never do it again." James stared at Stewart with an intensity made August shudder. Their father slipped the figurine into his vest pocket and left their room, slamming the door behind him.
---
When August woke, he was cold and wet. He found himself lying on his back in a pool slushy snow at the bottom of the grove. He felt his face; it was scratched up from the branches whipping him in the face as he carelessly ran through the forest earlier that day.
August opened his eyes, and before him was the tree like he had never seen it before. Its entire trunk was ornately carved glyphs and symbols that were so intricate it boggled the mind.
As he sat up he realized he was clenching something in his right hand. He pulled his icy hand from the slush, and began to wipe off the mud and snow. August soon realized it was the same broken branch from when they were just kids, only now it too was as ornate as the tree in front of him.
“Oh Stewart!” exhaled August as he stood up in awe… and he began to cry for his dead brother.
posted by Dean Michaud
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