ast of Characters
Harold- Father sauntering drunk, Tims father
Katrina- Tims Mother
Tim- the boy who gets lost in faerie world
Faerie Song by Steve Cranow There had been fighting in the log cabin by the edge of the woods. The yelling was loud enough for it to be heard in the neighboring households in the area. Harold, the father, was a sauntering drunk, a drunk who was prone to bouts of yelling and physical violence. Katrina, a woman of Medium build, dark hair and green eyes bore it as best she could. Tim, teenage boy boy took after his mother with raven black hair and his emerald green eyes. It was on a fateful Tuesday with an over cast sky that the Middle aged father came home in a drunken rage. Having quaffed an abundance of ale he was staggering home and bawling profanities. Tim was dressed in his wood brown vest, a vest he wore only when working. To complement his wood brown vest Tim also wore a pair of black work pants which covered dirt from working rather well. His usual chores for the day entailed taking care of the livestock and tending the farming tools so as to make sure they were clean and ready for work. The woods of Carter Hall always held special fascination for the growing Tim. as though something was calling out to him. For a spring it was rather over cast and there had been a light drizzle the night before. The ground was still damp from the early spring rains and to Tim the forest was alive and breathing, looking especially vital. The forest beckoned him to explore. The leaves were colored an extra bright green, the tree bark looked browner than it usually did. The flowers vibrated it seemed and their colors were extra vivid. It was an unusual day as Tim spied what appeared to be a small boy about as tall as his waist. The boy was rather round looking and even from far away Tim could see that his eyes were shining with a bright blue light. He had curly blond hair. Dancing around the one of the forest’s oak trees mad the boy seem rather strange to Tim. From his coral were the horses were penned up Tim stopped his daily chores and gazed at the young boy dancing around the tree. The boys outfit was rather different. Tim wondered if the boy was from around here. His outfit consisted of woolen drawstring pants, brilliant, emerald green shirt that would match nicely with Tim’s eyes. The little boy also wore a purple vest. “Who ever wears purple?” Tim muttered to himself. No sooner had the words escaped Tim’s mouth then the boy stopped his dancing and looked directly at Tim. Tim wondered if the little kid had heard him. The giggling boy broke into a run and Tim gave chase. “Hey wait” yelled Tim as he pursued the fleeing boy. But his entreaties were in vain. For such a rotund little boy he ran very fast. Within a short time Tim was huffing and puffing out of breath while the rotund little boy was far ahead of him. Tim picked up a stone and threw it against the wet forest floor. “Lost Him “ he gritted. The stone hit the ground with a loud splat. The mud got all over his pants. Tim looked down with disgust. Muddy pants would surely get his drunken father angry. With his head hung low Tim returned to finish his chores. Just before leaving the forest Tim received the shock of his life. There was the boy standing in front of him smiling and waving. Tim looked at him curiously “ What is your name?’ he ventured to ask. There was no response, the boy just turned and began running again. “Wait don’t run” Tim yelled as he resumed his pursuit. The boy still proved to fast for Tim. All Tim could do was slap his thigh in frustration and give up this senseless chase. It was back to get back to his chores. The Little boy watch the raven haired Tim head back home with his head hung low. Harold was waiting outside where the horses were corralled. Tim’s father a fat pot bellied middle age drunk with a nasty temper. Harold’s father was made even more repulsive when his belly protruded over his waist line. Despite Harold’s over size belly his pants were falling down. Falling pants was a bad sign that meant there was no belt to hold them up. The belt a worn piece of black leather strip was hanging loosely from his father’s hand. The little boy watched all this from the forest. His face turned to a frown when he realized that the scene he was about to observe would not be pleasant. Something flashed in the little boys head, bright, purple and blue it meant only one thing, cruelty. The little boy lacked the temerity to get closer. He did not smell the wreak of the fat man’s breath laced with foul smelling alcohol fumes. Hugging close to the outer borders so as not to be seen the little boy decide to get a little closer. The curiosity compelled him. “ The hay is all over the place, the horses are dirty darn it there is work that need to be done” bellowed Harold in a bellicose fashion. “All you are doing is playing and avoiding you chores” Tim walked closer to his father with his hands up. The little boy wondered why the young man was waling up to the fat man when he knew he would be cruelly hit and beaten. In a drunken gait the fat man advanced upon his son with his belt dangling erratically at his feet. “ Pa, I was just taking a brake” Tim said. The little boy in the woods could tell by the tone that Tim was pleading not to get beaten. Why not run into the forest the little rotund boy thought to himself. Tim’s fat father fixed him an evil stare with his bloodshot blazed over eyes. “ Work needs to be done” growled the father “ and my lazy good for nothing son decide that he will act like a school boy and play in the woods. “ The father momentarily stopped his growling complaints and just glared at his son. A wave of hate stole over the enraged drunk’s face the belt went flying towards Tim’s face. Tim has rather quick reflexes and he was fast enough to block the belt from whipping him in the face. A sound of thunder rent through the air. “ What, What” sputtered the enraged father. “ What is this? How dare you block me” Harold began swinging his belt around wildly towards Tim’s face. The belt made contact and stung like nothing he had ever felt before. Tim stared wide eyed at his father in shock. His face showed a fearful amazement. He caressed his cheek with his left hand gently rubbing the welted flesh on his cheek. Tim had been whipped by his father before, Harold was a cruel man when he got the drink flowing through his veins, but Tim never had been whipped in the face before. Fear slowly gave way to rage. Time never felt this before when getting beaten by his old man. He would not wait for the worn leather strip to land on his body. Bravely and vigorously he fought back. Before Tim knew it, before he could even stop it his left hand shot out with a will of it’s own. Tim was as surprised as his father was when he heard the cartilage in his father nose crackle as the left fist made contact. Harold lowered his head and sniffed a few time. He felt under his nose with his left hand. There was blood on his hand. Tim, thought Harold to himself, a good for nothing lazy son had given him a bloody nose. Harold face turned the shade of a violent red he charged at Tim like an enraged bull. Harold backed up a few step almost tripping over a stone, he barely stopped himself from falling. Harold the enraged bull was charging at him full ahead. Then it happened again without even thinking Harold picked up the stone and hurled it. The rock bounced off Harold’s forehead with a loud hollow thud. Time was standing still and both Harold’s head and the stone hit the ground at the same time. A crimson pool of blood formed around Harold’s head. Now I’ve done it Harold thought I killed him.. Tim looked around there no witnesses. In a panic he darted out into the forest. “Oh God “ Tim gaped as he ran with tears falling from his eyes “ Why does this have to happen to me?” Deeper and deeper into the forest he ran. His life as he had known it before was over. Just how different it would be Tim had no idea. The boy with brilliant blue eyes observed Tim fleeing into the forest. The boy had a look of sadness and his eyes went dim. Compassion began stirring in his heart for Tim. It was then that he decided he would be Tim’s friend and help him.
Monday, December 20, 2010
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- The Granovitch
- One blond hair blue eyed Calfornian who totally digs the Middle East.
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