Matthew Newton

Something Maple May Be: (part nineteen) Matthew L Newton

“Where are we going now?” Whined the little boy struggling to keep up with his older sisters jont.
They had been walking now for what seemed like twenty days, searching, always searching. As if what they needed was just a little bit further away and what they were finding was not quite what they were looking for.
“Seiously!! Can we stop now?” He was tierd and hungry and angry and bored, all a winning combination. Finally, after deciding that they were never going to rest he dropped the bags he’d been forced to carry and sat down.

“You lazy asshole!!” Screamed his sister, turning her crumbled face to him.
“We could’ve gone a few more minutes and sat closer to the lake!!”

Lessy lowered the duffle bag she’d been carrying and sat down next to Maxwell. He looked exhusted, not from the trip either, as if all of his energy was being pulled from him for some unseen use.
“What’s up kiddo? Why do you look so…dead?”

“Huh?” Was all he could muster.

“Don’t you want to go down closer the water?”

“I’m tierd of the lake.” Maxwell ran his fingers across the ruff surface of the duffle bag. He knew what was in it, knew why Lessy was carrying it and not him; it felt funny to him and he continued to test it’s textures.

“You love the lake!! You talk about it all the time. What the balls kid?”

Maxwell stared at his sister, deeply searching her black eyes for the why, the what, the all of her that was to him real. He needed to understand how she could be so caring, so lovingly adoring of him. He did not love himself, lost, trapped, fresh from the fish to the bottom of a giant. He had made her possible, made her available for him to draw on when he needed to grow stronger. Yet the chance of his creation turning to him for answers, wondering the ‘why’ of him never crossed his mind. She simply was a station, a pit-stop, a way for his to recharge and keep going. Now though, as she sat near him, feeding his need, he saw for the first time what this gift had made possible, he saw that perhaps, if he wanted, he could have back what the sea had taken. What the war had taken. he could have it all back, if he wanted.

“I just want to sit here for a minute sis.”
He laid back and folded his hands behind his head, closing his eyes he began ot slip.
“Just a minute more.”

Matthew Newton
DOC #81868


Categories: Matthew Newton

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