The magical journey of a countryside boy

The silence following the crash is heavy, enough for William to hear his own and his entire family’s heartbeats. He looks up to see the reaction of his family. Uncle Rob freezes halfway through a gesture, his mouth slightly open, his eyes darting from the broken pottery up to his wife’s face. Across the table, Matt and Craig have completely locked up, their previous questions dying instantly in their throats. Even Emma pulls her hands back into her lap, her eyes wide with a child’s pure instinct for danger.

​Finally, he looks up to see his aunt’s face. Her chest heaves as she takes in a ragged, trembling breath, her hands still suspended in the air where the weight of the dishes has just been. Her gaze is pinned entirely on him, the usual warmth completely drained from her face.

​“A job in the city?” Gretchen whispers, her voice shaking but carrying a terrifying, sharp edge. “With a complete stranger? Does anyone else know about this?”

​“John does. He met the guy in the city,” William says, dropping his eyes back down to the floor and staring at the shards of pottery soaked in grease. He can feel the suffocating weight of her stare pressing down on him. “He said that it was a good opportunity.”

​“And who is John to decide that?!” Gretchen screams, her voice cracking. “Is he your family, or am I?”

​“Gretchen, calm down. We know John, he is a good—” Rob tries to speak, but he is instantly silenced by Gretchen’s sharp glare.

​“Don’t you meddle in this! You were the one who always supported their trips to the city!” Gretchen speaks, seething with anger. She snaps her eyes back down to William. “And you—go to your room!”

​William quickly scampers to his room while Gretchen storms out of the house, walking straight toward John’s forge. Rob gets up from the table and starts running behind his wife.

​The path blurring beneath her feet, Gretchen’s mind races with white-hot fury. ‘Who the hell does he think he is, trying to decide my boy’s future? Was he the one who stayed up all night consoling him five years ago? Was he the one who could not even bury his little sister? Was he the one who took care of him when there was no will left in my boy’s eyes? What gives him the right to decide anything about William?’

​She reaches the forge and finds John packing his forging hammers into a wooden crate.

​“JOHN!”

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​John flinches, dropping a heavy iron mallet into the crate with a dull thud. He turns around, and any sign of greeting dies on his lips the moment he registers the raw fury burning in her eyes. She doesn’t give him a single chance to speak. She marches right into his face.

​”Who gave you the right?” Gretchen snaps, her voice trembling with rage as she steps up to him. ”Who gave you the authority to hand my boy over to a stranger in the city? He is my son. Not yours. You don’t get to decide when or where he leaves!”

​John doesn’t yell back. He doesn’t even defend himself. He stands perfectly still, his shoulders dropping slightly as he falls into a heavy, somber silence. He absorbs her every bitter word, every accusation, and every drop of her grief without flinching, simply watching her with a look of quiet, painful understanding.

​Just as the last of her breath tears from her throat, the heavy door of the forge bursts open. Rob rushes in, his chest heaving as he gasps for air. He looks at his wife, then at his brother, his face pale with embarrassment.

​”John... John, I am so sorry,” Rob pants, stepping between them and raising his hands apologetically. ”She’s just hysterical, she didn’t mean—”

​”Stay out of this, Rob!” Gretchen turns on her husband, her voice cutting him off like a whip. ”Don’t you dare meddle. You’ve done nothing but encourage this madness from the start.” Rob silences himself, stepping back, looking completely hurt and helpless.

​John stares Gretchen straight in the eyes. “Are you done, Gretchen?” he asks calmly. “I agree with every single thing you said.”

​Gretchen goes quiet.

​“You did a lot for that boy, more than any aunt is supposed to. I started helping that kid out of pity, but you never did. Everything you did came from your love for that child.” John pauses, looking at Rob for a moment before staring back at Gretchen. “But let me ask you: are you doing this for William, or for yourself? What are you worried about? Are you worried about him being alone in the city, or are you more worried about not being able to protect and care for him?”

​“I AM protecting him,” Gretchen hisses.

​“No, you are hiding him,” John says, leaning back against his workbench as if remembering the look in William’s eyes. “Have you seen his eyes? Those eyes are filled with ambition and dreams way bigger than spending his entire life as a powerless countryside villager like us. If you don’t allow him, he will never leave you, because he loves you more than any of those dreams or ambitions. But do you really want that for him? If you do, you may be able to keep that child close to you... but you will lose William forever.”

​The word forever hangs in the air, heavier than the thickest smoke in the forge.

​

Gretchen doesn’t say another word. She doesn’t look at Rob, who is watching her with an anxious, aching heart, nor does she give John the satisfaction of a reply. Silently, she turns around and walks out.

​Rob soon follows her out of the forge after giving a sympathetic look to John. He quickly catches up to Gretchen, who is walking very slowly down the dirt path, and gently holds her by the shoulder.

​Gretchen tries to speak, but at first, no voice comes out of her tight throat. She stops walking, staring blankly ahead.

​“Is it true?” she asks, her voice breaking and sounding incredibly weak. “Is everything John said true, Am I really being Selfish? ”