Chapter One- Young Jack
The earth moved with his hand, its warmth felt on his small, tan fingers. As he broke the pieces of loose soil from the ground, the scent of Mother Nature rose up to him. A lone leaf stuck through the brown floor with its light green skin shining in the bright sun. He stared at this small wonder, his eyes focusing so intensely that the entire object turned blurry.
A voice abruptly crashed through his thoughts, its agitation clear and strong. "Jack, you better come in for dinner or you'll be sorry!" A middle-aged woman with electrifying blue eyes looked down at her son, whose small hands were still in the fertile garden soil. "I told you not to get messy before eating," she said softly, eyeing the dark spots on his clothes.
"Sorry, Mom..." he sighed, raising himself from the small spot he had made in the grass.
"Why do you enjoy the dirt that much anyway?" Her nose was wrinkled in disgust. Or maybe it was annoyance. Or both.
Jack shrugged weakly. He looked once more at the small plant he had discovered, and turned to his mom with a small smile. "What's for dinner?"
She didn't seem to notice his question. Her eyes were staring in the direction of where Jack was sitting. "This is what you were so absorbed in?" With a decisive pluck, she pulled the tiny fragile leaf out of its home. Its stem drooped as its lifeless roots dangled helplessly, and a few specks of wet earth escaped the grasps of its powerless fingers.
With large eyes, little Jack stared in horror at his mother.
"This?" she asked again, shaking the leaf back and forth in front of him. "Why can't you spend some time with the neighbors? You know, make some friends."
The kids on his street never wanted to talk to him. To them, he was only some quiet boy who didn't enjoy the same things they did. Jack slowly shook his head.
His mom's shoulders dropped and with a heavy sigh, she turned to go back inside the house. "Wash your hands and come eat, Jack," she said over her shoulder.
Jack looked at the empty space where the plant had once buried in. The hole gaped ominously at him, its chambers no longer holding a living thing, but only air. He was only a child, so this small tragedy brought tears to his dark brown eyes. Hot streams escaped without hesitation, their innocent, young pain burning his cheeks. He knelt down and with shaking hands, placed the remaining soil into the hole.
All of nature fascinated him, especially plants. The life of them were just as precious as humans' to Jack. Their fragile being kept them from living for a long time, which was something he tried to not think about. Filled with the dream to become a farmer, Jack had the idea of the ground being a canvas and him being the artist, ready to paint. His mother never allowed him to plant anything, however. She saw the hobby as a waste of time, not even something to be considered a "hobby."
She couldn't see the life coming from these beings like he did. Taking one of nature's creations from the ground didn't phase her. She didn't look at it as taking a life. But, Jack did.
The boy glanced at the small, shriveled leaf on the cold concrete, and walked inside..
