THE OFFERING

“My arm hurts,” cried Colleen while switching the basket of apples from her left arm to her right. She glanced up and just now noticed the sun falling behind the treetops.

Tara shook her head and took her younger sister’s hand and pointed out, “We haven’t much time.” She looked into their baskets and saw that both were nearly full; this would be plenty, she thought and began walking up the cobblestone path that wound around the lake.

The lake resided in the middle of a wooded area with giant pine trees making up most of the woods. Apple trees lined either side of the path heading into the woods. The lake was first discovered a very long time ago; no one knows exactly when. And once it was discovered, the pilgrims of the area were dismayed to find the lake completely dried. In fact, not only was the lake dried out, the surrounding area seemed to have died out altogether. Nothing could be planted. After the third month of trying to plant crops (many of their people had died of starvation), the remaining villagers dropped to their knees and prayed to whatever god would listen to them. And their prayers were answered almost immediately.

And now an offering of apples takes place once a year to thank the goddess that had saved their ancestors from death. Tara knew the consequences of being late. The old bedtime stories, as terrifying as they were…she knew them to be true. Stories just don’t get started without some shred of truth, do they?

She recalled the house across the way, three years ago. Benjamin Levine didn’t make it back in time. Shortly after the thirteenth gong from the town clock struck, all was silent. And then the blood-curdling scream came from the Levine house …and then the candle in their front window had been snuffed.

Tara remembered trying to hide her head under her pillow to block out the terrifying sounds. She could almost hear the shrill voice of Belisama screaming at Benjamin for being late with his offering and she could only imagine the horrific scene taking place in the Levine house and knew that his parents were powerless to stop the goddess from exacting her vengeance.

Tara turned and looked up at the trees with what light she had left. As if it were a reminding finger tapping them on their shoulders, a breeze came out of nowhere causing them to lift their hoods over bright red hair. They shivered and both were wondering why they couldn’t wear something warmer than just cloaks. Perhaps that’s the way it has always been done.

She hated bringing Colleen out here for her first gathering. Tara was seventeen years old and she knew a lot about the Offering and what it meant to their village. But Colleen, barely thirteen, didn’t have much information on what the Offering was really about. The village school didn’t really begin the basics until they were twelve.

Tara stopped walking after the memory of their goddess’ vengeance and she closed her eyes. The offering had taken place once a year for as long as she could remember. Every family had taken turns sending their children out to pick the offering of apples – whether it be one child or six. This year it was Tara and Colleen. She shuddered at the ghastly images that ran through her mind of what would befall them should they be late. She opened her eyes and began walking again.

Belisama must have her offering. Their goddess demanded it.

If Belisama did not get her offering every year – 

Colleen looked out at the calm lake, seeing it almost like the first time. She never realized how beautiful the lake was. How could this tiny village be a dangerous place? Exactly why did they have to go out every year to gather apples for the offering? There were probably a thousand questions Colleen had as she glanced down and smiled as she watched bright orange, yellow, and red dry leaves circling her legs; as if they were playing with her. She hadn’t noticed Tara had kept walking.

Colleen saw how far ahead her sister was and sprinted to catch up. She wasn’t easily frightened, but the woods at night was one place she really didn’t want to be left alone. Through her bedroom window, she could hear the growls of nearby wolves as they hunted for their food.

They were halfway around the lake when Colleen asked the question she had been yearning to ask all evening. “Do you believe in the legend of Belisama?”

At first, Tara wasn’t certain she had heard the question right but had to force herself to remember that she was three years younger. She sighed and nodded her head.

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“Yes,” she finally answered.

In the distance they heard the gong of the clock. Thus their warning had been issued and Tara knew that they had until the thirteenth gong and then it would be…

“We must hurry,”

Just before the second chime, they sprinted forward barely making out the outlines of the one storey houses that made a perimeter around the lake, smoke billowing out from their chimneys.

They began running toward the houses; their soft brown shoes crunching the dirt as they ran. If only they had had a pavement to run on and not the dirt ground, they may have had an easier time.  All of the houses were small yet charming with candles burning in their windows. Nothing decorated the lawn save for the teeter-totter sitting in the Levine’s front yard - no children played on it for a long time.

As the third and fourth gong sounded Tara let her mind run across Benjamin. She had known him all her life; they grew up in the same village together. He was a year older than she was but that didn’t stop them becoming close friends. She was tempted to admit that she loved him - was she too young to love anyone else but her family and Belisama? But then he was late with his offering and she never saw him again.

The sixth gong roared by the time they neared the end of the lake, Colleen glanced over to her right and saw that the water that had only moments ago been calm and inviting, was now churning and boiling – as if some higher power had been angered.

Just as they passed the lake a feminine face appeared in the water and its head broke the surface and began to rise. She had transformed herself and forced the rest of her liquified body to rise from the lake and shoot heavenward; only to pass the running girls and stop right above their house.

By the eighth gong, Colleen stumbled and fell to the ground; her basket of apples slipped from her grasp and her offering went rolling across the path. Terror-stricken, Tara turned and helped her sister recollect her offering and quickly put them back into the basket.

Ten.

They saw the outline of their small house; candles were burning in the window like all other houses. And above their safe home they saw the giant mass of spiraling water; like a tornado yet to touch the earth. 

Twelve.

As Colleen and Tara ran as fast as their aching legs would carry them, Colleen knew there was no way they were going to make it back by the...

Thirteenth gong erupted, which sounded like it had come up from the pit of their stomachs. 

Tara knew they were too late the second they threw open the door. She looked up, face dripping, and saw the circle of water spinning on their ceiling like a whirlpool. Both girls were paralyzed.  In a moment the whirlpool descended and as it came down it materialized into an enormous woman made entirely of water.

As Colleen yelped, Tara dropped down onto her knees, holding up an apple in each outstretched hand.

“We apologize for being late with your Offering, Your Highness,” she said and bowed her head, water dripping to the floor. “Forgive us.”

The form of water looked down at Tara. A smile appeared on her liquid face; grateful, gentle, and kind.  She extended loving arms toward the frightened children.

“My dear beautiful children,” said Belisama behind an angelic voice and began pacing the floor. “Every year since the beginning, your people pledged never to forget me and how I saved the village from dying. The apples,” she looked down at the baskets resting between them, “are nothing more than a gesture of good faith. It was the one thing your ancestors had and they pledged an offering once a year. I shall NEVER be forgotten.”

Belisama reached down and took their chins in her hands and lifted them so she could look into their frightened eyes. “A year has passed, yet you arrive tardy?” And now the menace exploded in her eyes as she pushed their chins away and she screamed; it was a deafeningly low scream that sounded like it came from the depths of the lake itself. “There shall be no forgiveness. I WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN!”

Belisama’s liquefied body advanced on the terrified sisters; their screams were heard by the entire village as the candle in the window was snuffed.

“Do you believe the legend to be true?” asked one brother after he placed another apple into his heavy basket.

He put his hood up over his head as a cold breeze seemed to have come out of nowhere. He looked down and watched the bright orange, yellow, and red leaves circle his legs. He looked over at the lake and sighed.

“Let me tell you what I do know,” began the other and looked at the lake with concern on his face. “Last year, two sisters were late bringing their offering to the Goddess Belisama; the girls are missing and now the lake is exactly two feet higher since then.”

They glanced up and saw the sun beginning to drop and both brothers wondered how much longer they had before the village clock would ring out its first warning.