Short Story-Fiction-Inspired by a true story.
A Persistent
Dream
William Hall was
12 years old when he found himself digging up treasure deep underneath the roots
of his Pepper tree. When he finally opened his brown eyes and found himself transported
to his bedroom, he couldn’t have been more disappointed when the ceiling stared
back at him. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, but it had only been a dream.
Will refused to think it was simply a dream and with his imaginative mind he believed
he’d received a vision of his destiny.
The days that
followed, he could be seen with his metal detector, scouring the whole backyard
with it. Many afternoons watched the look of defeat on William’s face as he
would retreat to the house for dinner. He wouldn’t give up though, even when
the sun beat hard on his dark curly hair and sweat rolled down his deeply
tanned skin.
“It was only a
dream Will” his mother tried to discourage him softly. She was particularly
attached to her oldest son. Mrs. Hall had also had the same aptitude for
adventure at his age. He took after her not only in character, but appearance
as well. At his age, Mrs. Hall had also been rather rotund, until she had grown
out of it. If anything, at least this will be good exercise for him, she
thought. They also shared those same small eyes that looked out observingly at
everything. Those eyes watched him every afternoon while he continued his
search. Each afternoon as she cooked the family dinner, she could see him from
the kitchen window that ran along the southern wall. It gave Mrs. Hall a
widescreen view of all of Will’s failed attempts. On occasion, she would
clumsily snap photos of Will and sometimes even with his younger brother Finn tagging
along by the roots of the Pepper tree. Mrs. Hall secretly began to stash these
memories she had captured.
William would
not be deterred by anything for a long time though. After school he could be
seen with his parent’s gardening tools. With the pickaxe, he would break the
hard ground around the Pepper tree. With the shovel, he dug deeply around the
roots, scanning afterwards with his metal detector—no luck. He ignored the
swelling of the blisters on his hands, the aching pain at the side of his ribs
and his cracked and dry knuckles. He didn’t seem to feel any of it, much to his
mother’s frustration. Nothing was ever found, except some lost tools of his
father’s that Will had long ago forgotten to put away. The dream began to fade
in his mind as new things took its place. A new book, perhaps or a movie which
he and his brother Finn would later reenact with their neighborhood friends.
The fever had finally run its course. That is what his mother had thought in
relief.
Will was what
you would call an eccentric boy. He’d use his father’s construction tools,
scrap metal and lumber to create his own toys like swords and wooden pistols
and rifles. When his dream had begun to fade, he returned to his average boyish
passions of fencing with Finn and watching the Three Musketeers or John Wayne’s
western movies. It wasn’t a matter of need that had pushed him so urgently to
find that treasure that always seemed an unreachable mirage. His family was financially
secure, they owned their own home, Mr. Hall was held a managerial position, and
his mother was able to stay at home and had the meals on the table on time for
the family. Perhaps it was the desire of an adventure like those in Robin Hood
that he and Finn read together that left Will with the strong desire to find
his treasure.
The dream never
died out completely in his memory though. Years had passed and inside he knew
he couldn’t be a cowboy when he grew up. He had to pursue a more professional
career.
“Not the military” his mother had berated
countless of times. “That is not an
option for my son. Your father was in the Navy when we got married because he
wanted help to pay for college and it never happened. You are going to college
Will.” He understood that to please his mother, he would need to study. Will
would need to earn the degree they never had to make them happy.
“Go to college
first son,” Mr. Hall would advise his teenage son, “if you get your degree
first, you will be able to be an officer and have better benefits than me.” It
was always about benefits and about Will having a better chance at life than
them, but all that Will seemed to understand from their desires for his life
was ‘make money’. Unconsciously, he had begun to mistakenly align his parent’s
desires for his financial security to signify that he had to possess much
wealth to bring them happiness as well as well as his own. He began to believe
that wealth would make him successful in their eyes.
With his
family’s support, Will was on his way to the successful life he thought his
parents had been dreaming up for him, but their own lives were gradually down
spiraling. Every single company his father had worked had laid him off and
recently in his advanced age without formal education—it was getting harder to
find new employment.
Will and Finn,
both in their late teens watched their parent’s nervously. What would this mean
for them? What else could they do? Their family was already very frugal with
their finances.
“We can work,”
Will had offered, but his parents refused.
“We want you boys
to concentrate on your school, that’s important. That’s your job for now. We
will be alright,” their mother assured them not to worry, that with her job and
their father’s unemployment check, they would pull through until their father
was employed again.
Months later,
the boys’ father work with the honorable USPS. The whole family was relieved and
happy at first, but as each year went by, Will began to notice father’s hair
turn a shade lighter with prominent white streaks that grew thicker. Walking
all day gave Mr. Hall bad knees and several severe falls. He began to notice
that as he grew stronger, his father grew weaker, struggling more to climb the
front steps to their home.
It suddenly hit
Will: his father was aging and it seemed to be happening at such a fast rate.
It scared him when he first began to notice the signs. He wouldn’t always be
there for him and his family. Will felt powerless to help his parents with their
load. He wanted to hurry and grow up so he could be of some use to them.
He began
working after high school graduation. It was only enough to help him cover the
expenses for his college education. Will was bewildered at how difficult it was
to try to make ends meet on his own. Although his parents never asked Will to
do this and would have gladly handed him the money for all his necessities, he
felt shame. He needed to do this, he thought, to stop depending on them for
everything. Guilt set in each time he saw his father nod off at the dinner
table, exhausted from work. Will couldn’t bear to feel like a load to them
anymore. He would study hard, he thought. He would become successful, he would
become—rich.
One lazy Saturday
morning found Will and Finn home together, both their parents were working. Will
had been trying to study, but somehow YouTube kept finding its way to the front
of the screen. Finn was somewhere on a couch reading in the most awkward
position when a sound came through the front wooden door with chipped paint.
There were two things none of the boys ever wanted to do in the house—answer
the phone, or the door. Knowing Finn couldn’t be bothered with the noise, Will
sighed, being the responsible one, he stood to greet the unexpected visitor as Finn
dove out of sight.
It was odd, they
were a white couple. What are they doing in this hood? Are they Mormons?
They were the only white people who ever came to their door and the only white
people in their area were in the trailer park at the further end of their street.
But with their fancy business looking clothes they didn’t quite fit into the
“trailer park” look. They seemed out of place on Will’s front doorstep.
“Hello,” the woman
smiled at Will when he finally answered the door. He hoped it would be quick.
He was in the middle of watching a YouTube clip.
“Good Morning,”
Will answered, trying to be polite. “Can I help you?” Will now felt embarrassed
as he stood before them in his simple white T-shirt, old washed out jeans and
socks. Their blue Trailblazer was parked in the front of their house.
“Good morning, I’m Emma Sanders and this is my husband Nick. I actually grew up in this house.” Will held his breath in, hoping they wouldn’t ask to come in. Not only would that be strange, but his mother would kill him and Finn if they had let these people in when their house had been in such a messy state.
“Good morning, I’m Emma Sanders and this is my husband Nick. I actually grew up in this house.” Will held his breath in, hoping they wouldn’t ask to come in. Not only would that be strange, but his mother would kill him and Finn if they had let these people in when their house had been in such a messy state.
“Wow. Really?”
“Yes, we live in
Nevada now, but we have a property in Oakland we come and check sometimes. We
have been meaning to drop by because we thought your family would appreciate
this.” She handed Will an enlarged photograph mounted on a wooden board.
“Is this our
house?” Will took it from her hands and examined it up close. It felt as if he
was stepping back in time.
“Yes, it’s
quite a change isn’t it? It was taken in the fifties.” Gone was the stucco
along with a lifetime of improvements his father had made. Their front yard
trees were still only little shrub looking sticks. Will noticed the lack of
fence in the photograph. Maybe that was before the drug dealers and the
drive-by shootings, he wondered. He was grateful for the photograph, it
showed the history of his home. His mother would be amazed when he’d show it to
her. It hadn’t looked that good when they’d bought it years ago. An old rounded buttercup car was parked in
the driveway in front of the garage…
“We had a
garage?” he asked astonished.
“That’s right,
it was still there when I was a girl, but it burned down.” She turned to
glimpse at where it had once stood. “I see your family has placed a cement
driveway now.”
William nodded,
“Seems like this house has a lot of history.”
“Yes, in fact,
there might be a little mystery to this house too.” Will’s eyes widened. He
felt the pulse in his neck begin to quicken like the beats of a drum.
“You see my mother buried some treasure in our backyard somewhere.
That’s what she told us before she died, but she couldn’t remember where…” Will
was no longer aware of what was said in their parting. He kept seeing the treasure
in a tin box from his dream. Maybe…? He felt a chilling sensation
through his spine of excitement. Where was that chain saw his father stored
away? This time he would get to the bottom of this.
On the
weekends, William became best friends with his father’s chainsaw. Even though
he was initially afraid of heights, he made an exception each Saturday morning.
Every weekend the Pepper Tree had one branch less. While the Pepper tree was
being pulled from its well-grounded roots, William dreamed of a better life for
his parents and himself. The Sander’s coming seemed to be well timed in Will’s
mind. One again a child, he allowed the memory of his dream to cloud his eyes.
Things would be different. He wasn´t exactly sure how it would change by
finding the treasure, but something good had to come from it, right?
His back
muscles ached from uprooting the tree. His mother had at first mirrored
William’s excitedness about the Sander’s story of the photograph and the hidden
treasure, but as William got closer to digging out the tree, her old fear
returned as well. What if he finds nothing? She thought from her place behind
the kitchen window.
“Why are you
trying so hard Will? What do you think you’ll find?”
“Well, the
Sanders said it was a treasure, I’ve figured we can always use a boost. Who
wouldn’t? Maybe dad can finally retire and maybe you won’t have to work
either.” And maybe, he thought, he could finally look at his father without
feeling like a leech. Maybe, he could stop the guilt that consumed him whenever
he saw his aging father.
His mother only
sighed and hoped that he wouldn’t be disappointed. Mrs. Hall, however, did wish
for him to find something, anything so that he could get over it. She had often
been tempted to hide a treasure herself when he had been a child, if only to
cause him some happiness. She wasn’t exactly sure why she never went through
with it. Now, it would take much more than a few trinkets to satisfy William.
Nevertheless, Will continued to be unaware of the sudden white flashes from a
camera behind the kitchen window.
It was a late
afternoon when William’s shovel finally created a musical “ping” as it
connected with an unseen metal surface. His heart beat quickened. Doubts
attacked his hopes like a storm that hovered over his thoughts. He wanted to
believe that it was true, but he hesitated as he stooped down to brush off the
dirt. His hands shook as he wiped away the layer of dirt. His breath grew heavy
and it wasn’t his usual wheezing from asthma.
He realized he was
staring at a tin box. It was now rusted all over, the painted images on it were
faded now and scarcely visible.
Alone in his
bedroom, he set the box on his wooden desk. It wasn’t locked, but the lid was
encrusted with old dried mud. It made Will curious that it wasn’t as heavy as
he had expected. Shaking it, he could hear some shuffling from within. With his
stubby nail bitten fingertips, William attempted to pry it open. It had been
shut for so long that the rust had encased it shut. Taking a deep breath he
pried the metal container open.
Dread ran through his body like chills.
Where were all the
colorful jewels his dream had promised him? Lifting the contents from the tin box,
he shuffled them around before him, his eyes still searching, still hoping. His
thumbs quickly flipped through each article. A shadow was cast over from behind
his chair. Will didn’t even bother to look up. He knew who it was before she
even spoke. He didn’t want his mother to witness his defeat. Mrs. Hall remained
silent, simply extending her arm around William’s shoulders.
“Nothing, but
these old worthless photos,” he fought his temper that was surging within him. He
didn’t want to be cross, but he was embarrassed at how childish he had been to
hope, to believe his dream was destiny. Will tossed the photos on the desk
carelessly like trash. He fumbled with his hands, until he finally let them
hang loosely between his knees, letting his head drop. His back was hunched
over as he stared at the photos seemed to mock him.
“I wouldn’t call
them worthless Will”, Mrs. Hall began cautiously, her fingers handled the photos
with a gentleness that seemed almost as if she was caressing a loved one.
“You know, to that
family, these memories must be worth much more than any treasure. You’ve found
something precious for them, and I am sure the Sanders will be very grateful
the next time they come by,” she fondled his long curls which were in dire need
of a trim and thought for a moment, before Will heard her leave quietly.
William said
nothing. Alone with his own thoughts again, he turned back to the contents on the
desk. They were intimate moments of family Christmases, Thanksgiving dinners,
and birthday parties.
“Have a look at
this.” His mother suddenly surprised him again, handing him a thick envelope.
He laughed when he opened it. There was his pudgier figure at twelve years
using his father’s pickaxe. Another was of his hands blistered and cracked.
There were many photographs, each containing a special moment that he had
passed with that Pepper tree and Finn and the most recent ones with the chain
saw. Another one which caught his fearful glance below as he stood on the
highest rung of the ladder.
“You took all of
these?” He was amazed. He had never even noticed.
“Yes, and do you
know what these mean to me? Every photo is special to me because you are in
them, you and that poor Pepper tree that you’ve killed slowly,” she laughed.
“Well, it wasn’t all for nothing. You had some great times with that dream of
yours son. You worked hard for something you’ve wanted and you found it.
Granted it is not what you expected, but isn’t that what life is about? Sometimes
what we most want isn’t at all what we expect. Those moments are over, but
these photos will always remind us of them.” She handed the packet towards him
again and kissed his head. Her arm reaching out to hug him from behind,
engulfing his now broad shoulders.
“Treasure them.”
“Wow, life sucks!”
Finn yelled from behind them when he saw the box’s contents.
Will sighed, ignoring his young sibling as he stood to return his
mother’s embrace, his hand pushing his annoying brother away.
That afternoon as the sun went down, casting a warm glow over
Will’s hunched figure, his mother watched for the last time as he filled the
hole where the Pepper tree had once been. Having taken the photographs, he
replaced Mrs. Sander’s with his own and buried them in the rusted tin box while
Mrs. Hall watched from behind the kitchen window. He returned towards the
house, with a look of peace on his face. And this time as the camera’s white
light flashed from the behind the kitchen window, Will looked up to meet it
with a smile.
