Thanks to all those who
reviewed the first chapter of Christian's Tale! Hope you like the next chapter.
Chapter 2: First Poem
"Father! Look what I've got!" a small figure brushed past the
great wooden doors of Mr. Hardling's study and launched itself onto his lap.
Startled, Mr. Hardling looked up to see Christian, his son,
sitting on his lap brandishing a tattered paper. Mr. Hardling glanced lovingly
at his son, but then noticed that Christian was dressed in a crisp white shirt
and had his brown overalls on. Mr. Hardling's look of love turned to one of
disapproval. He always insisted on Christian wearing his smart black hat and
matching suit wherever he went, but his son would always turn up in those dirty
overalls of his.
"Father?"
George Richard Hardling was jolted back to reality. He patted
his three-year-old's head and took the paper gently from Christian's fist.
There were neat lines of Christian's handwriting on the paper, and Mr. Hardling
put on his reading glasses to get a closer look at the words his gifted son had
written.
Love
by Christian Hardling it read
What is love?
Love is oxygen
Love is a many splendored thing
Love lifts you up where you belong!
All you need is Love!
The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be
loved in return...
Mr. Hardling
felt as though ice were running through his veins instead of blood. He wanted
Christian to be a successful businessman and take after his father, not a
pathetic poet!
"Haven't
I told you, time and time again, not to waste your precious time composing
useless poems on… on… Love?!" he burst out, slamming the paper onto his desk.
Business documents and pens clattered to the floor noisily.
Christian, terrified, sprang from his father's lap.
"And where's that document
which I asked you to read?" his father continued in a sharp voice.
Christian stared down at his bare toes. "It… was… to profound
for me," he said simply. Then, gaining confidence, he looked up at his father.
"I could not understand those business terms. I want to write my poems," he
added.
Mr. Hardling's face turned a crimson red, then scarlet
purple. He snatched up the poem and held it in front of his son's face. "Here's
what I think of your ridiculous poems!" he bellowed out, and ripped Christian's
poem into half. Christian watched, tears welling up in his eyes. His precious
poem – the one that he'd spent almost his whole life working on – was torn
before his very eyes.
His heart pounding, Christian snatched up the pieces of his
poem, defiantly sticking out his tongue at his father. "You don't know Love
because you've never loved someone with all your heart! The greatest thing
you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. But you'll never
learn that, because you're heartless!" he shouted, and rushed out of the room,
tears streaming at full force down his pale face.
Christian burst into his room and flung himself down on his
comfortable bed. It was the only thing in his room that could offer him solace
and comfort. But Christian was not going to cry. He didn't want to be a baby
and cry out loud. He was strong inside, he knew it himself. Christian sniffed.
He
didn't want to be a businessman like his father. His father was cut out for
that kind of work, but he wasn't. He wanted to frolic around in the green
fields, paper and pen in his hand, waiting for the inspiration to come. He
wanted to sit peacefully at the top of the tallest tower in the world, watch
the beautiful sunset and dream of the best setting for his latest story. He
wanted to travel the whole world, to see, to feel, to write, to dream, to
love…
Then
Christian made up his mind. He would go to Julia. She would help him. She
always did.
George
Richard Hardling watched as his son burst out of his study in tears. At last
there would be peace and quiet.
George
knew that he might have been a little bit harsh with his son, but what could he
do? His son didn't even have a mother to comfort him. George settled back down
to his paperwork, retrieving some important documents from the floor. As he
bent down, a letter addressed to 'George Richard Hardling' caught his eye.
He
scanned the letter and as he read it, he smiled.
A
former business partner of his was celebrating the third birthday of his
daughter, and wished to invite Mr. Hardling and his son along to the celebration.
Then his daughter and Christian could meet each other while their fathers
discussed business deals. And perhaps betrothal deals as well…