Here is a Brighter Garden
There wasn't a single cloud to be found today, the sky was blue and seemed to stretch out endlessly- only stopping at the high walls surrounding the Glade. The sun beat down on the gardens from above. The heat was sweltering, and Zart's shirt stuck to his back as he bent over a large bucket to put more tomatoes in.
Most of the Track-hoes had already gone to the kitchens to get their lunch- the warmest hour of the day was not a good time to be out working in the heat, after all.
Zart, however, lived for these moments. Being alone in the garden, surrounded by the large stalks of the tomato plants. A sea of green, with red peeking through the rows like curious fishes.
He straightened up and felt his lower back begin to ache again. Sighing, he wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He felt a bit dizzy- he'd better eat something too. With the ease of years' experience, he picked up the large bucket and walked towards the fruit trees.
He sat down underneath the apricot tree, the bucket beside him in the grass. Leaning against the rough bark, he closed his eyes. It was cooler in the shadow of the tree, which felt great after being out in the fields all morning. He opened his eyes when he heard the wind rustling through the leaves, the corner of his mouth creeping up at the sight of one of the crows stealing some fruit.
He picked a tomato and almost rubbed it against his clothing- Frypan had lectured him more than enough on food hygiene already- but thought better of trying to clean it with his shirt when he saw how sweat-soaked it was. Not to mention the dark stains from the tilling he'd done earlier that morning. Oh well. He'd just eat it like it was, then.
Munching on the red fruit, he stretched out his legs and got comfortable. It was juicy- this was a good tomato harvest, at least. The corn still needed some time to grow, he thought absentmindedly as the fingers of his unoccupied hand trailed over the tree roots beside him.
He could smell the grit and dirt- it smelled like that almost everywhere in the Glade, but he didn't mind the stench. That was just how a garden was supposed to be.
The Homestead, however? That place could smell nasty sometimes. The sickness of the Changing, most likely. He'd heard some of the younger boys talking about it earlier:
''They say he remembers, Miles.''
They had sounded so excited.
Zart didn't get it. What did you need memories for? He didn't need to know where he'd been before he was in the Maze in order to know that he had to gather food. Hunger was an instinct impossible to ignore. He could enjoy the warmth of the sun on his skin and breathe in the fresh air of an early morning without knowing a single thing.
Perhaps that was why he felt so out of place when he was with the other Keepers. They were always searching- for a way out, for a new recipe, for a better fight or even for a new argument in a discussion that had been going on since the first ones had woken up all alone in the Glade.
Zart didn't need that. He was alright as long as there was earth to feel beneath his feet and grass to lie in at night. He liked living in the moment much better. It felt brighter. Less heavy.
He didn't move with that paper thin façade. The Gladers hid their desperation badly, but perhaps it's purpose wasn't hiding it. It probably was staying sane.
But that wasn't him. There was no desperation he had to hide to prevent himself from going crazy, no matter how much he saw it in others.
Zart was a quiet man. He didn't mind the Glade that much. It was peaceful on the days the Grievers didn't take anybody. The Track-hoes simply planted their vegetables on those days. They'd pick fruit and bring it to the kitchen. Frypan would oversee them putting it all in the stores- hands on his hips, legs apart and an easy-going smile on his face as he saw them go.
They'd run into a frazzled map-maker on their way back to the gardens- those folks were always in a hurry to pen down their findings once they returned from the Maze. Then, they would eat before going to bed.
There was a certain kind of freedom in living in the moment; one you didn't need to risk your life for. He liked the days when they could simply live the best.
Sometimes, Zart almost thought that maybe, staying in the Maze wouldn't be so bad.
Almost.
Authors note
Disclaimer: I don't own the Maze Runner.
Hi, guys!
This is once again, a story submitted for my English class! We are doing a media file assignment, instead of a boring old book report! I have to read a book, answer some questions about it and then choose one of the extra assignments. I chose fanfiction! ^^
The goal was to inspire the reader to look differently at the book. So I thought: What do they try to accomplish in the book? Escaping the Maze. But doing the opposite of that, staying in the Maze, seemed a little bit too crazy (I couldn't think of a scenario that would fit canon, at least). So I interpreted ''Escaping the Maze'' as ''Wanting to be free''. And Zart was perfect for that. Living in the moment is a kind of freedom that can be found everywhere- and I really saw that in him. Especially when Thomas commented that he ''looked like a carrot on a tomato plant'' between the other Keepers. Why was he so different? Well, this is my idea of a possible answer to that question.
The title: ''Here is a brighter garden'' is a line of Emily Dickinson's poem ''There is Another Sky''. Not only is the meaning of the poem fitting to this one-shot, I also thought it was very funny because there's literally another sky in the Maze XD
I hope you enjoyed it, and constructive criticism is always welcome!