The Reaper: Conclusion

Without further ado, here is the conclusion to The Reaper. When I began this short story piece, I was not sure where the narrative would take me. Initially, it was a small piece about The Sower but I felt the story needed a sequel and conclusion of sorts. The only challenge I had writing this piece was chopping it up into posts that maintained a level of coherency. Please let me know what you thought of the story and thank you for reading.

Kadin purposed in his heart to see his father again and soon discovered his legs travelling to the fields of his dream. The world around him appeared desolate. The solace of the morning was interrupted by the beating of birds' wings. Then he noticed a man hunched so low to the ground, he kissed the earth. Kadin knew it was his father.

Time's withered hands cast wrinkles on his frame, and he appeared like a dried prune shrinking in the sun's eyes. Kadin was afraid of his father's countenance but opened his mouth to speak.

"Sir, may I have a word with you," Kadin asked graciously and the man looked up at him. The sower's eyes were dark and his neck could barely lift his head in the heat.

"May I help you, young man," he answered and his voice trailed softly.

"I'm your son, Kadin." The sower paused at the revelation with great jubilation and a broad smile settled over his lips.

"Oh my son, my son. How did you know how to find me," and his feeble arms embraced his grown child.

The years which had elapsed, gathered together like young chicks nestling under their mother's wings. Time wound back its hands and instantly a young boy was chasing his father in a field of dreams.

The Reaper (Pt X)

Kadin woke shaking and trembling in his bed. The dew of the field and the image of his father melted. The wind cackled against his window. The warmth of the sun tapped against his conscience. In his heart, he conceived all could be rectified between him and his father. For he would make the reparations his father yearned for.

"Kadin, I'm surprised you contacted me," the cowboy spoke coolly. "Well, aren't you happy my boy? Don't you enjoy school?"

"School is fine," Kadin answered. He felt the words burn his tongue. "Sir, I have a business proposition for you. And you are the kind of man that can't refuse a good deal."

"Ha, I knew those classes would pay off. Speak, my boy, speak,"and the cowboy slapped his hands in glee.

"Thank you sir," Kadin continued. "You have trained me well but there is one thing that I seek. And that is the property that was stolen from my father."

"Stolen," and the cowboy's eyes sternly rebuked him. "Your mother sold me that land outright. And she spared your family from the famine."

"But it grieved my father and I cannot live while he sits in poverty," Kadin cried.

"The man may very well be rich and successful," the cowboy dismissed and turned to leave.

"He would have surely returned to his family if he was fine," Kadin spat back. And his hands curled into two iron fists.

"My boy, you've got a nasty temper there," the cowboy stammered. "All right, what can I do for you?" He sought to assuage the young man.

"Return the deeds of my father and I shall forfeit my education and work for you." The cowboy was surprised by his proposition.

"I will work until my debt has been paid. Now, if you will give me the deed." Kadin tore his transcripts and tosssed them at his feet. The cowboy recongized the boy's value. He could use a strong lad for manual labor.

"Okay, my boy. You win," the cowboy spoke smugly. "I worry for your mother though. What would she say if she saw you?" Kadin shook at the memory of his mother.

His mind wandered towards Julia's lips, and her eyes gaping at him. He held the memory of her knowing that he would not see her again. His future now chased a broken past.

The Reaper (Pt IX)

He was drawn to the field where his father toiled. His feet tread heavily on the grass; the blades cut against him like knives. He watched his father with his eyes, bending and twisting in dirt. The sower recognized his own blood and beckoned him with the motion of his index finger.

Kadin walked closer but with every step, he felt a weight grip him. Opening the palms of Kadin's hands, the sower rested his hot forehead. His mind split open and all of his memories spread out like the pages of a book. He was careful not to disturb his father, nestling in the bed of sleep like a moth in a cocoon.

His father's memories flickered like fireflies at midnight. The first image appeared as his mother. Her skin gleaned like a golden goddess and fire blazed on the tip of her hair. He beheld her in the glory of her youth, and Kadin understood why his father became enraptured with her.

A young, gallant man trailed her. He was astonished to see the young candor in his father. The arch in his spine became invisible. He watched while the sun rose in their spirits and promise kissed their fingertips.

He witnessed his mother's belly grow like a watermelon and he and his sister came marching out. Blessings and happiness were bestowed upon the family.

Then a portentous cloud rose from the west and thrashed about their dwelling. Afterward, the ground dried up and the sky refused to rain. Here, was the great famine that sent his father from his home. Tears stained the cheeks of the little ones. How Kadin longed to comfort his sister.

Slowly, his father retreated and sorrow swallowed him up like the wind. He exhaled and the past dissipated in the darkness.

The Reaper (Pt VIII)

He lay in the blue consciousness of tranquility. She was like a river pulsing and giving way with the utterance of the wind. Her waves caressed his skin, and he sank in deeper.

He woke up half believing it was a dream but when he turned to his side, she was lying next to him. She had fallen asleep with a book against her chest. He pressed his lips against hers, drawing water like a bucket at the bottom of the well. He longed for more but pushed back against the current of passion. She woke up dazed and confused before she caught his gaze on her.

"Did I fall asleep," she laughed, half embarrassed. "I'm a terrible host. I must have bored you."

"Not at all," he replied and his hand brushed her cheek. If she'd let him, Kadin would remain there watching her sleep. He was most content in that state.

"Back to work mister," she commanded sternly but the humor in her voice rose steadily. What Kadin most admired about her was her discipline and purpose. Without her command, he'd tumble in her beauty and drift away forever. She alone kept his grades afloat.

Love had also cured his anxious jitters. He no longer hid in his library or dorm room but rose steadily in his new found confidence. His roommate guessed the source of Kadin's jovial countenance.

"What's her name mate?"

"Julia," Kadin smiled.

"That's what I'm talking about," his friend cheered, offering him a fist pump. "Now we have to get a second girlfriend for you."

"No, she's the one," Kadin laughed, amused at his friend's proposition.

The old world that preceded his new existence seemed almost dreamlike. He could vaguely recall his mother and sister by the vine house. Nor could he remember the fields and plains he once roamed in adolescence. Only the occasional letters from his mother jolted him back to his former self.

Then one night, while he drifted to sleep, the memory of his father gathered like portentous clouds. What did he want?

The Reaper (Pt VII)

Her eyes settled over him with a confused grin.

"Aren't you going to pick me up," she laughed and he burned with embarrassment.

"So sorry, I wasn't looking," he apologized. Instinctively, he bent his head and bowed.

"Southern manners. I like that," she complimented and her words seemed to rise in him.

She became the object of knowledge to him, an inviting new book laying at his fingertips. Her pages ruffled and flirted with him. How he longed to tear through the cover. But he was full of self doubt, quietly pondering his affections for her.

He saw her frequently in the library and watched her lovely red hair sink deep in a book. Then, she'd rise like a beauty out of water and gape at him. Her lips parted shyly into a smile. Perhaps it was a sign but he didn't act upon it.

Though her heart fluttered madly in her chest, she could not shake her encounter with him. Nor could she deny the warmth of his gaze and touch upon their awkward greeting.

She made her move; a mad dash for the boy while he innocently roamed for books on a shelf. She pounced on him like a cat seizing a toy and kissed him.

"I just wanted to say thanks for the other day," she whispered shyly. Her face turned shamefully red at the doubts of her ambush.

"No I ran into you. I should be sorry," he answered. His words retreated as it escaped his breath.

An intimate line lay between them. It was so delicate and fine that each took tiny steps so not to break it. They were budding trapeze artists suspended in fright. They calculated their emotions like equations but failed to see the solution in their reasoning. Taking several missteps, the line broke and they were falling into the precipice of love.

The Reaper (Pt VI)

The school buildings rose like grand statues in his mind, and the vine house of his childhood, with mom and sister in it, dissipated into oblivion. The heaviness in his footsteps seem to lighten. Yet, his legs could not keep up with the lithe crowd. The melancholy habits of his rural ways was no match for the rapid city life.

His compass pointed him in every direction and his eyes squinted at the strangeness of his transcript. When he finally settled himself, he landed in the clutches of his guidance counselor. He was a frail man with pale skin, and his gold rimmed glasses swooped down his nose. A look of mild displeasure rose on his face.

"Aha, I see," he remarked. "You have poor grades but you're an athlete. Athletes have it easy." His piercing, blue eyes seemed to condemn him.

"Well," Kadin stammered, but the professor waved off his reply.

He was dubbed the quiet one. His lips never parted except to say something he deemed important. Kadin didn't connect to the new world he was birthed in. His roommate made futile attempts to bond with him. Kadin accepted the invitation one night, drowning in beer, and waking up on the floor. His head spinning like a merry go round, he vowed not to touch that stuff again.

Eyes seemed to follow him wherever his foot tread. They watched him because he was tall; they prodded him because he was mysterious. Their eyes penetrated his skin and he squirmed.

He found sanctuary in the library; its quiet solitude beckoning him in. The walls closed in like a sensitive flower, only the petals of a book lay open to him. Here eyes were preoccupied with words and work. He was safe. He never had an appetite to learn. Words usually danced in his head, producing no understanding.

Yet in this library full of shelves, he discovered new worlds. He became an adventurer, drifting on the channels of his consciousness. The revelry lasted for hours and when he finished, his head ached.

Rifling books back on the shelves, he smashed into a delicate, young woman. Her body tumbled on the floor like a crushed moth. Her eyes were stunningly large, dipped in the blue light of the window. Her hair was a rich auburn, which reminded him of strawberries in blossom. The fold in her lips reminded him of a rose. He wanted to kiss her.

The Reaper (Pt V)

Kadin never knew sleep while under the cowboy's possession. He ripped him from the arms of sleep like a newborn from his mother. His eyes groped about the still blackness of night.

The sun didn't peek its head from the horizon. The stars grew dim and restless. The cold air enveloped his lungs as the cowboy conducted drills; the silver hiss of his whistle ringing in his ears.

The weeks settled like a deck of cards. He rose in darkness; he slept in darkness. But one day the cowboy's rough hands slackened. He was enrolled in a private college. The cowboy's connections lay golden opportunities at his feet.

"Haven't I done right by you, my boy," the cowboy laughed and patted his back jovially.

"Yes sir," Kadin replied. He had no doubt that his mother was the invisible master behind his destiny. The cowboy was merely an actor in her grand show.

He was thrusted upon the doors of academia. The halls of higher learning, the pantheon of knowledge. He watched boys and girls his own age scurrying along the sidewalks. They all appeared amused with smiles plastered upon their faces. Many huddled like wolves in a pack, charging at something he did not know.

He realized when he left the presence of the cowboy, he had entered into a new freedom. There were no eyes watching him. No commandments whipping against his ear. Perhaps this won't be so bad, he thought as he walked into his new destiny.

The Reaper (Pt IV)

The thoughts of his father seized his mind so suddenly, he sensed a hand gripping him. His mother's voice pulled him from his revelry. Her hawkish eyes awaited a fire storm. But his smile assuaged the brewing fire. The smile kindled youth in her eyes and for an instant, a little lad tottered before her. She kissed the image of him before he grew into a man again.

"I didn't mean to raise my voice," she whispered, wrapping her son tightly in her embrace. He wiggled from her, half annoyed, but accepted the love bursting from her.

"Now, I have a friend coming to see you," she explained. "He's very much interested in your future." She watched her son scowl but she reassuringly kissed him on the hand.

He met the spry, cowboy donning his white, cotton tee and rugged jeans. He appeared after eleven years to Kadin's disdain. He associated his father's departure with this man's arrival. Thus, his affection were calloused towards him.

"Dear lord, you weren't lying about this boy. He's a giant," complimented the cowboy.

"Thank you," his mother curtsied. "He has very good genes." The cowboy brandished sports equipment in his hand: a football in his forearm, a baseball in his right hand, and a golf club in his left.

"Ever played with one of these son," the cowboy asked. Kadin cringed at the word son.

"No, I like Frisbee better," he scoffed.

"You've got yourself a comedian here," the cowboy jested. Growing impatient, his mother nudged Kadin in the rib. Her eyes conveyed the great commandment "Thou shall obey your mother." He humbly cowered to her.

The cowboy watched as he performed tricks and feats effortlessly. His body moved like a graceful gazelle and his muscles bulged liked a rhinoceros.

"Your son is untrained but fierce," the cowboy concluded. "I am convinced I can secure him a scholarship. He requires rigorous training though. " The cowboy was not convinced Kadin possessed the discipline to be successful.

"He is an obedient boy. He won't be any trouble," his mother assured him. This time she sentenced a man away from the house corrupted by vines. She sent him away with the intentions of cultivating a new man. She desired, above all, that he not seek the life of a sower.

The Reaper (Pt III)

When Kadin's mother woke him early, they were for the purposes of doing manual labor: chopping wood, mowing the lawn, or walks on long shopping errands. But this morning awakened a strange suspicion in his gut. Why, he did not know. He sensed someone was coming. He envisioned them peeking into his window and invading his space. Were they mere dreams or premonitions? He laughed within himself and rocked back to sleep. His mother tapped his overgrown body but he didn't stir.

"Wake up," his mother boomed and his body awakened to a sudden earthquake.

"Dress nicely. We have a visitor today," his mother commanded. These words possessed a familiar echo in his ear. She recited those words the day his father left. He refused to stir from his bed.

"Get up now," she shouted. "Stop shuffling your feet. You must be ready for the visitor."

"I remember the last visitor," her son lashed back and the words cut her cheek.

"Ungrateful boy. I have given you everything in life. Your father chose to leave." She watched her son shrink to the size of a mouse and scurry about the house like a servant.

She wanted to hug and kiss him but what could she say? She regretted selling the land too. She thought she did right by her family. She could not foresee its utter destruction. All these thoughts she kept to herself because he was young and angry. An excuse, an apology, was too late of an offering now.

Kadin's feet grew heavier with every step. His heart rose from his chest and leapt like a frog. He was anxious to see the visitor. Would the rugged frame of his father walk through those doors?

The Reaper (Pt II)

Though a rural girl of poor stature, the mother desired the things of the city life. She had an appetite for money and wealth, which drove her misdirected soul to sell the thing her husband admired above all else.

Now she lay at a crossroads with her son. Day by day, she saw her little one take steps from her. She watched him like a cloud drifting in the sky. Surely there must be a way to save him. She sought out the city life to rescue her son. She marveled at men parading around in pinstriped suits and speaking in tongues above her head. They would fashion the boy into a businessman. He'd have money growing from his fingertips, toiling at his desk all day. Yes, that would be his rightful living.

"So you want your boy to be a businessman," laughed the cowboy she sold her husband's land to.

"Yes sir," she answered amicably. "I come to you sir. You are the only man I trust and know."

"Does your son possess desire or an appetite for learning," the cowboy interrogated. He was sizing up the case he was taking on.

"I'm afraid he has no desire for business," she wailed. "He is a poor scholar and shows very little interest in academics." Fear and anxiety grew in her eyes. She prayed continually to God for the man to take her son.

"These are all strikes against him," the cowboy confessed and stroked his chin in thought. "Unless your boy possesses physical prowess. Is your child athletic?"

"Athletic? I am not sure. He is very strong though and tall. He has inherited the strength of his father."

The cowboy said no more but took of his hat and sat in a great revelry.

"I shall visit you shortly."

The Reaper (Pt I)

Eleven years has passed since the sower abandoned the only place he called home. He did not write or seek his family out though occasionally, he rode by his old dwelling and spotted his children running like shadows in sunlight.

Years elapsed and days stretched long like the horizon. Yet, the memory of his father’s weary back, walking solemnly from his mother, burned like it was yesterday. Kadin blamed his mother for his father wandering into the abyss. His feelings were never verbalized but his mother sensed his anger from his quiet gaze.

He never spoke to his mother for he was an obedient and steadfast lad. He only shared his emotions with his sister Lilia. They lay stretched out on the earth with their feet pressed firmly together. A narrative floated to the heaven as each wondered aloud where there father could be.

It troubled their mother when her children sat lazily for hours at a time. She was also disturbed by the habits of their father rising up in them, especially in Kadin. Her son had taken a proclivity for digging and toiling in the sun; his hands absorbing the brown dirt. This was the love his father felt for earth, he imagined. This action made him closer to him. At times, he pictured his father stooping over him and directing his hands. Hold the soil this way, he said. Kiss the seeds and say a prayer. Kadin was astounded by his father’s wisdom. He was God’s gardener.

Something must be done, his mother thought lest her son bridle wild notions and seek out land to grow. She must save her son from such an unfortunate fate.