…from a
The speaker, a young boy, barely double in the digits department, stood, his hands hit on his hips and his head cocked back to stare up at the towering massive sliver of wood and leaf that sat rooted before him.
“No one climbs that tree,” came the voice of a girl, slightly older than him, with matted puffy hair a ragged old brown dress that she’d been wearing since she was 9. It was her only one. The boy was dressed in similarly weathered clothes, except for his boots, which were brand new and had just been given to him by his grandfather, who made them, and then went off to die.
“And why doesn’t anyone climb it?” he asked.
“Because!” she shouted, a declaration laced with the obviousness of gravity.
“Because why?” he moved a little closer and shifted one of his feet up onto a piece of the tree’s root that was humped up out of the dirt.
“Because it’s the most sacred tree around, that’s why.”
“Well it’s only sacred because it’s the tallest, which is a silly reason for something to be sacred.”
“No, it’s tall because it’s the oldest, and that’s why it’s sacred.”
“Well just because something is tall or old, well that’s a stupid reason for it to be sacred. Did it help out a king or something? Does it keep the world from falling off of the clouds? There has to be a reason.” The boy put his other foot up on the tree trunk, in turn scratching the perfect shine on his new boots. “Aw man!” He leaned down and, with the lick of a finger, tried desperately to wipe away the scratch. more…