There was a long road that twisted about and led off into the woods. Tall
pine trees, mixed with various other types dotted the hilly landscape. The
scent of wheat drifted in the warm summer breeze. A teenage girl that
looked to be about 16 or 17 was kneeling beside an azalea bush, smelling a
bright pink bud. She picked it and placed it in her long braid.
Every year, at about this time, one could see the girl walking down the curving road to some unknown destination, whistling a quite tune. No one knew her name, for she did not live in the small town of Treegap that lay nearby.
Confident this time that she would find what she was looking for, the girl whistled a bit louder and walked a bit faster. She followed the road for some distance and then turned off into a thicker part of the wood.
Even if no one else knew, the girl knew right where she was going. She walked a short distance until she reached the middle of the wood. There was a single tree standing in the center; it was the largest tree in the whole of the woods by far.
She walked to it and ran her finger along an indention shaped like a T in the trunk. Much of the tree's roots were exposed so she sat on a rather large one. There were also some stones at the base of the tree sitting in water. She began to move them aside to drink some of the water when she heard a voice behind her.
"I knew you'd come back, Winnie Foster," it said.
The girl, whom the voice assumed was Winnie Foster, turned and saw a tall slender boy emerging from the wood.
"I'm not Winnie," the girl replied, still holding the cool water in the hands. "I'm her daughter."
"Oh," he said sounding a bit disappointed. "I'm sorry. I'll be going now." He turned to leave.
"Wait," 'Winnie Foster' said. "Are you Jessie?
"Yeah."
"I'm Grace. Winnie was my mother."
"What do you mean 'was'?"
"She died when I was 6."
"Oh, no. No." Jessie was trying to hide tears. "I told her to wait and that I'd be back. I guess I waited too long. I loved her. I thought she loved me, too."
"She did. She spoke about you a lot."
"How old was she when she.died?"
"32. The pneumonia took her real quick. She didn't suffer long."
"No. Why Winnie?" Jessie asked no one in particular.
"She loved you, in many ways, till the day she died." Grace felt sorry for Jessie and was doing everything she could think of to make him feel better.
"I told her that," he paused, "25 years ago."
"What?"
"That I'd love her till the day I died." Jessie smiled through his tears, "You see, I can't die." He glanced at the water.
"So it is true? The thing with the water and you falling out of a tree? It's all true." Grace was also looking at the water. She turned to look at Jessie, but he was gone.
* * *
Jessie Tuck tore through the woods; tears streaming down his face. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't control them.
He ran for what seemed like hours until he reached a small house very far away from the wood. His brother Miles had been leading the horse to the pond for a drink of water when he saw Jessie come running.
Jessie ignored Miles and ran into the house and up to his loft-bedroom. His mother Mae had been in the kitchen when he ran through.
Mae dropped the dishrag she was using and hurried to see about her son. "Jessie! What's wrong?"
"I went back to the spring, Ma." He was still crying but more controlled now. "Winnie's daughter was there and.and." He just couldn't finish his sentence.
"She didn't drink it, did she?" Mae asked but had a feeling that she knew what the answer would be. Jessie simply buried his head in her shoulder.
About that time, Miles came in to see what all the commotion was about.
Miles looked puzzled and glanced from Mae to Jessie and back to Mae.
"Winnie," Mae said in answer to his silent question. It was amazing how such a small, two-syllable word could have so much emotion behind it and mean so much, for Miles understood perfectly.
Miles walked to the bed and patted Jessie on the shoulder. "I know how you feel Jess, I know how you feel.
Angus Tuck, the boy's father, walked in and immediately knew what was happening. "Good girl, she was," Tuck said.
Every year, at about this time, one could see the girl walking down the curving road to some unknown destination, whistling a quite tune. No one knew her name, for she did not live in the small town of Treegap that lay nearby.
Confident this time that she would find what she was looking for, the girl whistled a bit louder and walked a bit faster. She followed the road for some distance and then turned off into a thicker part of the wood.
Even if no one else knew, the girl knew right where she was going. She walked a short distance until she reached the middle of the wood. There was a single tree standing in the center; it was the largest tree in the whole of the woods by far.
She walked to it and ran her finger along an indention shaped like a T in the trunk. Much of the tree's roots were exposed so she sat on a rather large one. There were also some stones at the base of the tree sitting in water. She began to move them aside to drink some of the water when she heard a voice behind her.
"I knew you'd come back, Winnie Foster," it said.
The girl, whom the voice assumed was Winnie Foster, turned and saw a tall slender boy emerging from the wood.
"I'm not Winnie," the girl replied, still holding the cool water in the hands. "I'm her daughter."
"Oh," he said sounding a bit disappointed. "I'm sorry. I'll be going now." He turned to leave.
"Wait," 'Winnie Foster' said. "Are you Jessie?
"Yeah."
"I'm Grace. Winnie was my mother."
"What do you mean 'was'?"
"She died when I was 6."
"Oh, no. No." Jessie was trying to hide tears. "I told her to wait and that I'd be back. I guess I waited too long. I loved her. I thought she loved me, too."
"She did. She spoke about you a lot."
"How old was she when she.died?"
"32. The pneumonia took her real quick. She didn't suffer long."
"No. Why Winnie?" Jessie asked no one in particular.
"She loved you, in many ways, till the day she died." Grace felt sorry for Jessie and was doing everything she could think of to make him feel better.
"I told her that," he paused, "25 years ago."
"What?"
"That I'd love her till the day I died." Jessie smiled through his tears, "You see, I can't die." He glanced at the water.
"So it is true? The thing with the water and you falling out of a tree? It's all true." Grace was also looking at the water. She turned to look at Jessie, but he was gone.
* * *
Jessie Tuck tore through the woods; tears streaming down his face. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't control them.
He ran for what seemed like hours until he reached a small house very far away from the wood. His brother Miles had been leading the horse to the pond for a drink of water when he saw Jessie come running.
Jessie ignored Miles and ran into the house and up to his loft-bedroom. His mother Mae had been in the kitchen when he ran through.
Mae dropped the dishrag she was using and hurried to see about her son. "Jessie! What's wrong?"
"I went back to the spring, Ma." He was still crying but more controlled now. "Winnie's daughter was there and.and." He just couldn't finish his sentence.
"She didn't drink it, did she?" Mae asked but had a feeling that she knew what the answer would be. Jessie simply buried his head in her shoulder.
About that time, Miles came in to see what all the commotion was about.
Miles looked puzzled and glanced from Mae to Jessie and back to Mae.
"Winnie," Mae said in answer to his silent question. It was amazing how such a small, two-syllable word could have so much emotion behind it and mean so much, for Miles understood perfectly.
Miles walked to the bed and patted Jessie on the shoulder. "I know how you feel Jess, I know how you feel.
Angus Tuck, the boy's father, walked in and immediately knew what was happening. "Good girl, she was," Tuck said.