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Lost Child
Side Story 1: Dan's Campfire Tale

Side Story 1: Dan's Campfire Tale

And now for something completely different!  

Putting this story in a separate post. This way people can skip it if they would like to but who knows it might be relevant to the story as a whole.

I don’t know if I will be able to post next week as I will have family visiting.

If you are still there. Enjoy.

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“Man your story is totally better than mine.” Dan complained then leaned forward. “My story is set in the Midwest during the Great Depression.”

Otis looked at Dan. “Dan, do you know where is the midwest? What do you know about the Great Depression?”

Dan had a confused expression as he looked at Otis. “umm...What? No, it’s just a story. Well this is a tale about a Farmer and the Peddler.”

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“Bob, your taxes are due and when sumtin’s due its due.” The man who stood on the front porch sternly said. “Look, I know we go way back but I am the county tax man and I have to collect taxes. I can’t look the other way this month.”

“How do you expect me to pay? The fields have all dried up. It’s just dirt now and I can’t sell dirt!” Bill threw his hands in the air.

“Well I don’t know. Try plantin’ sumtin’ different this time. You know what I heard? In Bristow they be selling some of those oriental vegetables. Maybe that’s sumtin’ you can grow.”

“Joseph, do I look oriental to you? How do you expect me to make them grow?”

“Hey, I am just givin’ sum ideas. In any case taxes are due and you have to pay by the end of the week.” Joseph stated plainly. There was obviously no leeway this time.

Bob sighed. “Thanks Joseph, you’ve been a good friend to me and I am sorry I put you in such a lurch these past few months. Don’t worry I will get your money by Friday.”

The next morning the farmer visited the bank. He has tried to take out a loan before and was refused but he had no choice but to try again. He needed money otherwise he would lose his family’s farm.

The banker shook his head. “Robert, I am sorry we just cannot loan you money right now.”

“You said that last month and the month before!”

“I know I have and yet here you are asking again.”

“I need the money my farm is going to be seized!”

“Robert! We all need the money right now which is why we cannot give any out.” The banker said through clenched teeth.

Robert stood up knocking his chair down and slammed his fist on the table.“That is right can’t give any out! That is because the bank is out of money too! What have you done with all these good people’s money if you ain't got none!”

“Robert Calm down!”

“Your bank got a loan! What happened to the money? It was supposed to save all of our homes and our lives!”

The farmer stormed out of the bank and walked across town to the general store. He removed his father’s watch from his pocket and set it on the counter.

“Peter, how much can I get for this?”

The man behind the counter picked up the pocket watch and looked at it closely. “I can give you $1.50 for it.”

“Peter stop joking. How much is it?”

“A dollar fifty.” The man flatly stated.

“1.50? How can it only be $1.50? My granddad brought this over from the old country. It’s hundreds of years old!”

“Nobody wants a pocket watch. People want bread not a timepiece. A timepiece cannot feed our families. How about you? Where is our wheat? We can’t have no bread without no wheat!”

“I cannot grow any wheat! Why do you think I am selling my dad’s watch?” The farmer sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Fine just give me the dollar fifty.”

The farmer left the store and walked over to the nearest stable. The farmer used his dollar fifty to purchase parts to fix his cart, he was going to Bristow.

A few days later the farmer’s donkey and cart pulled into the Bristow open air market. He walked to the nearest vendor.

“Excuse me I heard there was someone selling some oriental vegetables or something of the sort?”

“You missed’m. He done gone ages ago.” The vendor replied.

“You know where he was headin’?”

“What do I look like? His mother? I don’t know where he went. You gonna buy sumtin’? Or maybe you got sumtin’ in your cart? How about that donkey? I’ll buy’m for 15 cents.”

“No I am not here to buy or sale anything.”

“Then why the in the ‘ell you wastin’ my time? Get out of here!”

The farmer asked several more people in town. He then moved on to the next town then the next town. Before he knew it a month had passed. He had traveled to towns two counties over but the answers were all the same. A peddler came into town, sold some weird red fruit and then left and no they didn’t know where or which way he went. Everyone he spoke to had the same problems as him; no money and crops will not grow.

The farmer had given up. He was planning to just let the government take his farm and move to the big city to look for a job like all the others. He looked down the dark road to see a light in the distance. He was coming to a crossroads and on the corner stood a man in a large hat that covered his face. The man had a lantern in one hand and the other he used to steady himself on a cane.

His cart pulled up next to the man. “Howdy friend. Need a lift to town?”

The old man looked up but shadows still covered his eyes. “No thanks but I have been waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me? I’ve never met you before.”

“True but I hear you have been asking about me.”

“You’re the peddler with the red fruit!”

“That is me. You can call me Cleatis. So why have you been looking for me friend?”

“Good to meet you finally. I am Robert Strickland. Well I heard you have been selling those fruits. I wanted to know if you were selling any seeds? You see I am a farmer and nothing is growing for me but those red fruits must be growing for you.”

The peddler took a hard step forward, the shadows slid from his face showing the mans golden eyes and toothy grin. “You mean this fruit?” The old man set aside his lantern and pulled a large dark red fruit out from his jacket. “I am not sure if you can handle it. No, no you cannot handle it. I mustn’t give it out too easily. Yes, you are not worthy.” The old man muttered to the red fruit. The old man shook his head and looked up to the farmer. “You see it is quite an invasive plant. You must constantly be in control of its production.”

The farmer was taken aback by the man’s aggression. “Uhh. Yes I can handle it. I have been farming my whole life. I will watch the plant with constant vigilance as if my life depended on it because it does.

The peddler relaxed. “Are you sure? You should not grow too many. You also cannot allow people to eat too many of them especially children. But I promise you this, they will grow and they will sale very well.”

The farmer emphatically nodded his head. “I promise you I will do as you say!”

“I see. I see. I have been looking for a man like you. You know I have actually been planning on give this all up. Crazy right? Here take this fruit.” The peddler hurriedly handed the fruit over to the farmer. “All you need to do is to put this fruit in the dirt at night and by morning it will have sprouted. You can water it if you like or you can leave it dry. It makes no matter.”

The old peddler retrieved his lantern and walked down the dark road the opposite direction of way the farmer was heading.

“Peddler how much do I owe you for this and how many can a person eat?” The farmer asked as he watched the old man hobble down the dark road.

Without turning back the old man answered. “You do not owe me a thing. We are down on hard times right now. I am just relieved that I have passed this task down to another.”

“Thank you Cleatis! I will never forget this!” The farmer shouted at the man who had disappeared into the night.

The next day the farmer returned home on his door was a note from the tax collector saying that he will return in a week to collect the taxes.

“Damn! Why can’t he just leave me alone?” The farmer ripped the note from the door and threw it to the ground.

When night came the farmer excited planted the dark red fruit into the ground. The next morning just as the peddler stated a sprout had emerged from the ground. Its stem was a greenish red and it had bright red leaves. By nightfall the plant grew a foot tall and a single small fruit could be seen hanging from one of its branches.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“This is incredible! It has fruit a single day after I have planted it!” The farmer beamed with excitement he had finally found what he needed to save his farm.

On the second day since it was planted it had become a 4 foot tree, 10s of ripe fruits adorned its branches. The farmer quickly collected them and went to the town market.

“Robert, you finally get something to grow? What do you have?” A woman approached his stand.

“I have fruit it is extremely delicious. You must have some.”

“Fruit huh? I don’t think we can afford that sort of luxury right now.”

“It’s ok how about 2 for a penny?”

“Are you sure? Well then I will take a dozen.”

The farmer sold all his fruit in an hour and returned home. When he arrived he was shocked the tree had grown 2 more feet and 3 more plants were sprouting from the ground. On the tree hung hundreds of fruits. It took several hours but he filled his cart with the fruit and returned to the market.

A single day at the market and the farmer made more than he had in the last 6 months. Now he had more fruit than he could ever sale. He started selling them at a penny for a half dozen red fruits. The week passed and farmer had more then enough money to pay his taxes. The tax collector nearly fainted when the farmer told him he would pay all his delinquent taxes.

After a few weeks his farm had dozens of trees. The Farmer hired the unemployed townsfolk to help with the harvest. Eventually he did not have to even touch the farm he left it to all his laborers.

“I can’t keep dressing like a farmer any more. I am a proper business man. Can you do a fitting and set me up with a suit?” He told the excited tailor.

“Robert thank you so much for coming here. You don’t know what this means to me. I haven’t had anyone come in a while.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The tailor began his work. “You hear from Nancy and Frank lately?”

“No I haven’t heard from them in ages. Why do you ask?”

“Well thats just the thing no one has. We were wondering if they’ve run off.”

“Yea that’s strange they’ve always been such nice folks. They probably went to the city to look for a new job. How’s your Teddy? I don’t see him in the shop.”

“Oh he’s off running around again. I need to get the preacher to have a talk with him. It should straighten him out.” The tailor furrowed his brow in frustration as he continued his work.

A few minutes later the tailor spoke again. “Suit should be ready in a week come by then.”

“Thanks Jim.”

“Sure if you need anything just come by.”

As the farmer left the shop and walked along the road. He could see many children outside unattended. He did not come into town that often he hadn’t noticed the changes that had been occurring or heard of the people that had gone missing.

“Where are all the parents? I may have to go speak with the preacher next time I come to town.” The farmer mumbled to himself.

“Shush...It’s the Farmer. Be quiet. Be quiet.” The farmer overheard from a group of children he was approaching.

“Teddy, your father is looking for you. Maybe you should go help him out.”

“Yes Farmer.” The boy immediately spun around and headed to the shop.

The farmer looked down to the smallest boy in the group he was no more than 5. “What’s that on your hands?”

“It’s pig’s blood sir.”

“Oh, you the butcher’s boy? Well make sure you clean yourself up.”

“Yes Farmer. I will do that immediately.” The little boy left the group and entered the nearest building.

The farmer returned home to enjoy his quiet solitude. The workers just finished building the expansion to his home and it was now filled with furniture.

After making a bit of tea he sat in his favorite rocking chair on his porch that overlooked the farm. “I can now live the good life. It is all thanks to them fruits.”

A few days later the farmer woke to a silent farm. He strode out to his orchard to investigate and looked over the hundreds of rows of trees. All of the trees were filled to the brim with fruit.

“Where in the hell are all my workers? This fruit cannot ship themselves.”

The farmer headed back to town to find his workers. His horse and wagon pulled into an empty town.

“Where is everyone?” He knocked on the bank door, then the general store, then the butcher’s and finally the tailors. “What is going on? The only time I have ever seen it this empty is during Sunday Mass. Today’s not Sunday right?” The farmer felt for his father’s watch. tsk “Damn. I forgot to buy my dad’s watch back.”

“Well lets go check the church then. Everyone must be there.”

The farmer approached the church doors but paused when he heard the voices.

“Have you dealt with all the pigs yet?”

“Yes Teddy the last pig was slaughtered last night.”

“Good. It is said that he will come to the church when the last pig is dealt with. Are all the preparations ready?”

Before the boy could answer the church doors opened.

As the farmer walked into the dark church it took a moment for his eyes to adjust but when they did he saw dozens of children staring at him with their bright red eyes.

“He’s here!” One of the little girls squealed.

“The Farmer has arrived.” Another child gasped.

“The Farmer.”

“The Farmer.” He heard many children whisper with reverence.

He looked around the inside of the church. Something was moving along the walls, it was dark red and slithering like a snake. As his eyes continued to adjust he began to see that it was not a snake but vines. Vines were deep red and adorned with sharp angry thorns, they twisted around pillars across the ceiling and on to the upside down church cross.

“Farmer you have arrived. Please follow me.” Teddy stated and then looked at the small boy. “Butcher’s Boy go prepare it right now.” He said through his clenched teeth.

“What is going on? Teddy, what have you done here?” He said in shock as he follow the eldest boy to the altar.

“Farmer, do not worry. You will know soon enough.” The boy gestured him forward as he bowed his head in reverence.

He stepped on to the altar to see the small boy cutting into something at the center of the cross. The boy moved and showed it to the farmer. It was a head, the preacher’s head, the skin drooped from the side of it. It’s face was twisted in horror and pain. From it’s mouth was a wiggling vine that ran from the cross up to the ceiling.

The farmer followed the vine to see more heads, hundreds of them, the tax collector, the banker, the general store manager and the tailor were there, they were the heads of all the adults in the town. The vines wrapped around them and went through one ear and out from the mouth then onto the next head. It covered the entire ceiling of the church, the faces had numbers carved into them and they were all twisted in pain and horror.

He looked back down to the head that was in front of him. It had the number 1 carved into it. The farmer took a deep breathe. “This is all my fault. What have I done? I should have been more careful. Why didn’t I listen to what the peddler said?”

The Butcher’s Boy stared at the farmer as he removed the top of the preacher’s skull. Inside the skull was the largest blood red fruit the farmer had ever seen. A red mist surrounded the fruit, it spilled out into the air when the boy had removed the top of the skull. It was a deeper red than anything his trees produced.

The farmer breathed in the mist. It smelled better the finest perfume and sweeter than any rose ever could. The farmer could not help it, his mouth watered as he looked upon the fruit. “I have no choice. I must take responsibility for what I have done.”

He picked up the fruit and bit into it. The red juices ran down his cheeks. The fruits delicious sweet corruption blossomed in his mouth, the sweet corruption ran down his throat and throughout his body. He felt the corruption wrapping and tangling his core, its spines pierced his core allowing the corruption to easily flow in and pollute his soul.

The Farmer opened his blood red eyes and survey the children sitting in the pews.

“Now, shall we begin with a sermon?”

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“Well great!” Milo tossed his hands in the air. “I am not going to be able to sleep tonight!”