The Rebellious Son: A Fairy Tale -- PART 8

The following morning the boy opened his eyes, sat up, and stretched his arms. The shirt fit him better, not perfect, but not as baggy as the day before. He touched the soft material. It was good to be clothed and to be warm. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. The house was quiet. Either the Virgin Mary and her son were still asleep or they were off doing something outdoors in the early hour.

The boy couldn't think of anything better to do, so he laid back down, pulled the blanket up to his chin, and closed his eyes.

Sleep, once again, overtook him, but this time for three whole days.

While sleeping he dreamed he was floating on a plank far out on the water. The water felt good and cold on his legs. The sun was bright, and the world around him sparkled in its glory. There was nothing but water, sun, and the boy.

"Where do you think you're headed, son?"

The voice belonged to Claudia.

He turned to see her walking on the water toward him carrying her stick.

"Ma?"

"Look at you with your shirt and belly full of food. Vanity! You're stock full of vanity!"

"No, Ma," he said. "Our Virgin Mary is kind and pretty."

"That woman has never suffered a day in her life!" Claudia was getting closer.

The boy covered his face, fearing she would strike him.

"Look at me," she said.

He uncovered his face. She was bigger than ever before. As large as a tall tree. "Please don't hurt me."

She squatted to meet him eye to eye. Then she raised her stick above his head.

"Please don't," he said.

"Oh, rebellious one." She touched one shoulder with the stick and then the other. "You shall not return." And then she inhaled deeply and blew.

The boy felt her breathe, like the wind, push him far out on the water. The further he went the smaller Claudia became. When the wind settled she was nothing more than a black dot on the horizon.

Once again, the lonely boy cried and cried.

His tears mixed with the water and colored it red. Soon all the water around him was red. He dipped his hand in and scooped up a mouthful. He sipped the red water. The taste was familiar and good.

"I like it," he said. "I want more!"

The more blood he drank the happier he became. "Ha, ha!" It was the first time he laughed in his life.

The laughter was so jarring it woke him from his dream.

"What's so funny?" asked the one-legged boy.

He looked over and saw the Virgin Mary's son sitting at the table with a basket full of berries. Blackberries, huckleberries, raspberries, and blueberries. There was a thin line of red juice running down his chin. "I was dreaming."

"Would you like some berries?" he said holding out the basket.

The boy stood and reached into the basket. The berries were mushy, fermented, but good.

The one-legged boy grabbed a handful and squeezed the berries into a silver cup. Soon the cup was full of juice. "Drink this," he said.

The boy took the cup and drank.