Monday, April 11, 2011
All the difference...
The soft, moist earth sinks under his boots. The sweet and crisp smell of dew and ozone after the night of rain. Soft beads of sweat and condensation trickles past his collar, into the rough cotton of his checkered shirt. There was a silence in the air, the kind that would cling on to the back of one's mind; willing itself to stay pristine, pure and absolutely untouchable to the human voice.
There was a boy, 10, was looking at the remanants of what was to be his home - his past, his present and what was to be his future. Where the framework of the little pine cabin had once been, was now replaced with thick, viscous mud.
He had loved mother nature once, relishing the warm gentle touch of the sun on his rosy cheeks, running in the grass, feeling the earth between his little toes, picking out earthworms with his tiny fingers only to watch them burrow, sticking out his tongue to taste the sweet nectar of the sky as it opened it's gates. The rosy cheeks were now stained with a mix of mud and blood, his little toes - sore from standing on to the tall oak tree where his tree house was almost complete, his little fingers red from the constant grip that kept him alive and all he tasted now was a bitter thirst that would not be washed away by the rain.
Mommy, Daddy, Granny...they all disappeared when the first wave hit. He had been in the tree house, playing explorer in space, while the roof was not complete. Yet. He hadn't noticed the raising waters on the streets, nor the panic of people running on the streets. It was all about spaceman and astroid monster in that time. Suddenly the tree house shook, and the first sign of fear crept into his heart. It happened so quickly, all his dad's decorations fell out of their frames. Astroid Monster, his favourite villain toy, toppled over. But it didn't bother him, the boy ran to the window of this tree house to ask for help. He got there in time, to see the painted green frame of his home, get carried away by the flood waters.
Then the tree house started to fall apart. The boy scrambled to the middle of the room, grabbing hold of the main branch which his beloved tree house was built around. One of the walls got ripped from it's frame. The second wave had hit harder. Taking Astroid Monster with it. The boy stood where he was, scared and alone, crying himself to sleep - half hanging from the branch.
Now it was safe, the water has gone away. Time to look for mom and dad. Carefully the boy climbed down the oak tree that had kept him safe through the whole time. He jumped into the mud that surrounded the perimeter of the tree, it had run up to his waist. Slowly he waddled through the mud, to where his house once stood. A man had seen him climb down the tree, calling out to him - yet the boy heard nothing while walking home. There was a certain emptiness to his purposeful direction. Suddenly the boy could not feel the ground he walked on, it was all mud. Somehow he had arrived home, and he knew it.
The man across the street, limping to the boy, wondered why he stopped. Only to notice that a few meters away, a car was sinking - much like an oversized toy - into the mud. He panicked and started to drag himself as fast at his body would allow him, headed straight towards the boy. He would be too late.
The boy, 10, was looking at the shades of brown and grey around him. The mud creeped up on him, like the earthworm, he imagined to be burrowing through the soil. Only difference was that this time, he didn't do anything. He just felt the cold moisture and the heaviness of the mud weigh on him. It was up to his neck now, when he noticed a figure moving toward him. It seemed familiar, but the weigh of the mud kept pulling him in. It was over his mouth now, he closed his eyes as his lungs fought for air that bubbled into the thickness of the earth. His mom and dad appeared before him, hugging his mom the boy was carried home where it would be safe. Forever.
The man looked on, to the wasteland before him. A moment ago there were bubbles on the surface, all he needed was a stick to get him back. But as he found it, the surface went still. And stayed that way. The man crumpled - as if the wind had found a weak spot and gave him a punch. His little brother was gone.
