Nate B Quill

“At least it’ll be quiet here” 

It was the first warm day of summer. Across the green fields, just south of the town square, boys and girls of all ages were kicking a football around. Each team was trying to get it through the others’ goalpost, where one team was using a log and a rock someone had found; on the other, there was a broken plastic chair and a plastic water bottle filled with sand. You could hear laughs and screams from all the children. 

North of the square, men were working the fields. Most were trading funny stories from their families throughout the winter; Miguel had had his first child over the winter. He told the other men just how chaotic this first season with a son was, always concerned for what the baby’s doing, always wondering how he could hurt himself next; he swore Miguel’s only goal was to kill himself, or to give his mother a heart attack – whichever came first. 

The men who had a few younger children of their own offered advice to the new father while laughing along the way. The older men laughed to themselves as the young one told his stories, but knew that the father himself was once one of the most high energy and eccentric children, and he turned out to be a fine, intelligent, young man. 

Moving West there was a small lake where many men were fishing. Some, including Mr Ruiz, were bringing back the nets cast the night prior. Others were casting their lines beginning the long day’s work. The older men, having gotten up very early, were already going home with boxes full of fish; arriving home to sleep through the hottest part of the day. 

Daniel Ruiz was off in the forest East of the green fields where the children played football. He waddled around the trees like a penguin, squatted down trying to figure out where a line of ants was headed. He had already found the anthill, and knew that the ants must be going somewhere interesting. 

Eventually, Daniel found where all the ants were headed: a mango that had fallen off one of the trees above. He stood up and jumped up and down at the mangoes in the tree above, but he was still too short to reach. The boy then made his way to the trunk. He clawed at different branches, but every time he got a few feet up he’d slip and fall back to the ground. 

He never complained, not like there was anyone he could complain to. Instead, he went back to the ants on the ground, and watched one carry a piece of fruit many times the size of its body in awe. He followed the ant all the way back to the anthill. Arriving there, he ran back to the fruit to watch another ant do the same. 

When he got back, he found another mango on the ground, still untouched by any of the ants. Daniel wiped the dirt off using his shirt, and wandered further into the forest while nibbling on the fruit. 

Before Daniel could reach the river he often heard of, the sun began setting. This was just about when he realized he was completely lost. He closed his eyes and sat on the ground for a moment as a tear fell over his face. He knew of the monsters that come out at night and was terrified. Despite this, his mom’s voice echoed across his mind: “Keep your chin up, you’ll find a way”.

He navigated the forest, first heading towards the now setting sun. After some time, he had forgotten what he was so afraid of. Daniel pranced around just as he had done on his way to the river. He tried to climb every tree he saw, usually unable to do so unless he could get a foothold. 

He took a leap into a tree, and quickly fell back down. He wrapped his hands around the stump, but it was too sticky to comfortably hold. 

Around the tree he found a small chunk of a mango, and a line of ants leading from it to the nest. 

Daniel followed the ants on all fours, carefully watching two of them carry a large orange piece of the mango. Eventually, they reached the ant hill and disappeared inside, parting ways with the boy. 

From there, the football field was within view.

Daniel’s mom, Maria, was frantically talking to the neighbors when the boy came into view. 

He braced himself, fully expecting to be yelled at for disappearing after sunset, but instead she just hugged him, not letting go for far longer than he was comfortable with. 

At home, his father lay on a reclining chair that he and Daniel had begun building together a few days before; however, the boy had gotten a splinter, and refused to continue working. Mr Ruiz gave his son a small smile, and continued relaxing on the chair, now fitted with cushions courtesy of Maria. He threw pieces of bread  to the ravens who waited below the window, continuing his own father’s tradition. He wanted to build the chair with his son so that one day he too would realize the joy of sitting down for a bit, and watching the birds. 

The next day Daniel woke up early, determined to reach the river. 

He snuck through the village, then sprinted through the green field hoping he wouldn’t be caught. He became paranoid when he saw a black bird standing on a wooden roof, watching him as he ran into the forest. 

Just ahead, he saw the ant hill from the day prior, just a tad larger than it had been before. He followed a line of ants back towards the mango tree. 

The Raven landed on a mango tree’s branch, where it pecked at the mango stem until it fell to the floor. It then quickly retreated into the higher branches, looking for a piece of fruit for itself. 

Daniel picked up a mango as his run slowed to a walk. The boy walked east towards the rising sun for a short while. The short walk felt like an eternity with the black bird following him around. 

The Raven kept an eye on Daniel whenever he turned a corner, always making sure to stay just a few steps ahead. He knew just how clumsy the boy could be. 

Daniel watched back and forth deathly paranoid by the black bird’s very presence. 

Eventually, he reached the river. He threw his shirt off and jumped in, and enjoyed the water’s cold shock on the hot day. 

He splashed around for what felt like hours, not noticing the collection of birds standing behind the black bird, all looking to the sky together, with the black bird standing in the front staring at Daniel unblinking. 

The day passed on slowly, not a cloud in the sky. Daniel had just about figured out how to float on his back in the water, and had his eyes closed, basking in the sun when a rumble passed over his body, shaking his chest like a drum, with a low rumbling leaving his mouth. 

He shot up, and just a moment later a booming sound echoed like the wrath of a million storms. The sound slowly washed over him, taking its sweet time before fading away in the distance. During this time the boy shook, a shaking unlike anything fear had done to him before. He began his run home. First west, opposite the still rising sun. Then past the mango tree and along the line of ants. Afterwards, a dash towards the green field where the children were playing football. 

A ball of fire. As his eyes adjusted to the intense light they saw what was really there, but his brain still couldn’t process what was going on in front of him. It was still a ball of fire. 

He ran in to find an empty town. The light became a haze behind the fire of a million suns. He ran into his home, now just 2 walls that were shorter than even Daniel. He put his knees to his face until the sweat and tears across it became puddles on the floor. 

The Raven brought a piece of smooth wood with a thread from what once was a cushion attached. The Raven threw it at his grandson’s feet, before sitting down next to his boy, mesmerized by the fires spreading to the nearby trees. The boy quietly whispered to himself: “At least it’ll be quiet here”.