8 minute read
The Branch by Joseph Nguyen
Joseph Nguyen
It was a bright summer day and the busses just arrived at the class camp destination. A swarm of children hastily left the bus. Excited and full of energy, they gathered to their respective guide and began to prepare for the long hike to the campsite. The students carried their lives in the small canvas rucksacks upon their backs and marched in a single file line as a boy stayed well back in the rear. The boy was not in the greatest of physical shape, and under the blistering sun and the unfamiliar weight on his shoulders, he could not get used to the discomfort that he never wanted. To make sure the boy did not fall too far behind, an instructor was obligated to stay beside the boy, watching over him and providing empty words of encouragement in hopes to keep the boy moving. “Come on, we’re almost there” and “it’s okay, you’ll be okay, you got this” were the mantras that were dismissed by the boy, it was patronizing, irritating, he just wanted to go home.
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He looked up to the titan of a mountain that challenged him, taunting the boy that he was going to regret ever climbing it. So the boy kept his eyes on the ground, focusing on his feet moving in front of him, one by one as if it was automatic. He hypnotized himself by the repetitive steps, left then right, then left again, and eventually he convinced himself that he could keep moving like this. He focused on his breathing, inhaling for every two steps, then exhaling for the following two, everything he did was calculated and for a brief moment he believed in the words that were supposed to encourage him. Without thinking he looked forward, straight ahead to see how much further he had to go, and he saw that the titan grew even larger.
His heart sank to his stomach, he felt like he was losing the breath that he so carefully crafted, and every fabricated confidence he gave himself was shattered.The pitied voice behind him again condescendingly speaks to the boy, “alright, here we go, come on!” He hated it, everything about this trip was just a ruse just to get rid of him for a while, and no one really wanted him there either. He could tell by how the adults kept forgetting him, he could feel their disdainful manner whenever they spoke to him, and he could see that to them, he was not a priority. To make it even more obvious about their contempt towards the boy, they paired him with the most vexing adult to accompany him. Her constant empty words of inspiration were exasperating, as if every syllable added an extra pound of weight throughout the entire boy’s body. The boy disregarded the woman, only taking notice of her presence while omitting everything else that came with her.
The boy and the woman were eventually greeted by a fallen branch that laid upon the trail. The branch stretched across the entire width of the path and thick enough to recognize the obstacle in their way from where they were. Thirty or so students and adults had already walked around it, and the boy, already annoyed by the constant reminder of his insecurities, gripped the end of the branch tightly and pulled. He pulls with all his might and can feel the large tree branch releasing its grip underneath the dirt. His arms and legs began to burn; however, the branch never leaves his furiously clamped hands and with the branches’ final moment, it flies out of the earth and the boy tosses the large branch to the side off of the trail. Gasping for breath, he looks down to where the branch is, now a bit more calmed, cooled down by his brief outburst.
The woman looks at him, and he is perplexed by her gaze for it was a look he was unfamiliar with. “Thirty boys walked past that branch. It took one man to move it, and he made life easier for every person after him." The boy felt his eyes swell and his nose began to run, but before they could even emerge he wiped his eyes and sniffed his nose. A sense of pride, not fabricated from his imagination or one that felt short lived, took him by surprise. Had it not been for the woman’s words he would have thought the branch as another item to add unto his miserable mental collection. The words she spoke suddenly began to well up inside him, he physically felt the change as he processed everything he heard from her. Everything felt light, the weight on his chest and shoulders dissipated and looking up did not feel as encumbersome as it once did. The titanic mountain regressed to a small hill, the scorching sun now a pleasant ray of light, everything around the boy began to morph along with him.
The woman and the boy eventually caught up to the rest of the group, tired yet pleased of their accomplishments. The boy, even though he felt a transformation within him, still had many social challenges laid ahead of him that he was aware of. For the first time he wanted to reach out to someone and waive off the secluded lifestyle that he initially set upon himself. However he didn’t know where to start, nor could he even begin to think about how to start putting himself out there.
Those insecurities began to rush back and his breathing began to grow more rapid, he felt his knees begin to lose their strength. Fearing that he would make a fool of himself if he were to collapse in the middle of camp, he searched for a safe spot to hide and finds an empty bench away from everyone else. Carefully, with one foot in front of the other, he throws his body onto the bench before his legs could give in.
The boy sat on that bench, head resting on the table and focused on his breathing as practiced so many times before. He opened one eye to look at the crowd that had proceeded their nightly activities without him, and began to have thoughts of abandonment. He thought why was he was here in the first place, for what reason did he have to go to a dumb camp where no one liked him, and if there was a way he could just leave. A large sigh escaped the boy, and he felt the table that he laid his head on shift, he looked up at what it was and was shocked to find another boy sitting across from him. The other boy looked a little older, more athletic and didn’t seem like they had any reason to sit here.
The boy wanted to ask “who are you?” And “what brings you here?” Or even just “hi.” But he was so stunned by the presence of the other boy that he sat there, jokingly thinking that there is no way that this is real. The other boy looked at the boy and asked, “Hey man, you okay?” The boy was unable to speak, still unsure what to say and how to say it, instead the boy mustered whatever energy to nod to the inquiry.
An awkward silence befell the two boys, and the boy felt the pressure from the other boy’s presence, it was uncomfortable and he could no longer bear to look at him to stave off any potential embarrassment. The other boy broke the silence, curiously asked the boy, “you’re really quiet, what’s your name? Mine’s Johnathan.” The boy, still unable to respond, embarrassed by his shyness, continued to sit looking away from Johnathan. “That’s okay man, you don’t have to say anything, I don’t know anyone here, and you look like you didn’t either, so how about we stick together?” The boy looked at Johnathan with a pleasant surprise and nodded. “Cool, and don’t worry about having to talk, it’s okay, I think we’re all trying to figure it out, at any age. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?” “...Okay”
Two ghost stories-George Bowman appears As a ghost playing the banjo in Book I George Bowman resurrects and returns to life In Book II
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