He spent all his afternoons at the lake now.
He never felt like he missed out on any video games or goofing around the town with the same friends. The peace he had found while sitting in that bench by the lake made him aware of the voice inside his head he hadn't known he possessed. He discovered he had patience and a newfound understanding with the world, and a yearning to be more than who he was. The old man didn't make him realize all that, but being in his company did. Some days he would ask him to describe the sunset and the boy would tell him what he could see. He never asked him why because he realized he didn't really mind.
His conversations with the old man were strange, if not peculiar. The boy wasn't sure if they would stand to much meaning out in the real world where people never had a moment to stop or listen. But they meant something to him. And on summer nights when the earth would cool down for the time and all the stars he hadn't noticed before would shine bright and clear in the sky, the boy would think about the old man and what he had brought in his life - a fresh pair of eyes.
He knew that the person he was before would not notice the worry in his father's eyes every night when he came home from work, or the exhaustion in his mother's shoulders when they sat down for dinner. And he definitely wouldn't have noticed that his brother had attempted to stand in his crib for the first time today when everyone had been watching the television.
These little things, these little details were so new for him. Most of the time he did not know what to do with all these new observations. But then, a few days ago, he had been playing a game in the kitchen after dinner and he had heard his mother sigh for the third time. So he had got up and he had asked her if he could do anything for her. And the answering smile on her had been so soft and different, that he had helped her out every night since then. Because, he realized he quite liked the smiles she sent his way these days - like he wasn't just another another reason for the tension in her brows but a member of the family, loved and appreciated.
Thinking about it now, he realized he was changing, or rather, as the old man called it, he was growing. And he realized it was because of the lake and the man sitting beside him in that moment.
The friendship they had formed was strange - but in this stretch of green away from the world, it existed. It was not meant to be intruded by the other realities of the world. It was not to be mentioned and not to be thought of outside their little world by the lake. He wondered distantly if the old man had ever told anyone back home about him. He seriously doubted it.
"You never told me what happened to her," the boy asked suddenly, "That girl you fell in love with when you were eleven?" He had no idea what made him think back to that first day he had stumbled upon the clearing and the old man, when he had been so rude to a complete stranger and left the conversation before it was over. But he had come back, he reminded himself. He always came back.
The old man smiled at the water. "I married her."
"Really?" the boy asked incredulously, "She fell for the scrawny small backbencher?"
The old man laughed, "No, she fell for the sweet charming boy who sang her songs and made her laugh. We married when we were seventeen."
"What is she like?"
"Beautiful," he said without having to pause or think or consider, "Just like an angel. She was sweet and understanding, compassionate and forgiving. She knew me in a way nobody else did, and she loved me for who I was and not for who she wanted me to be, which was more than what I could have asked for. The one regret of my life is that I couldn't give her half the happiness she deserved."
The old man sighed.
But the only thing the boy noticed was that he had been using the past tense the whole time, and the realization that she was no longer made him just the bit more considerate towards the man sitting beside him.
"I am sure she felt differently," he said.
"Oh, I am sure she did. She was kind like that."
The boy stared at the slight ripples in the water, as it touched the shore and crawled back along with the breeze. He really didn't understand the kind of love the old man was talking about; the kind that never faded, the kind that brought tears to his old friend's eyes as he stared ahead and the kind that made the world a prison for his grandfather when his love died. But he was intrigued by the possibility of something like that actually existing - a love so deep that it never ran out, never ended.
"I wish I had someone who loved me like that." He had no idea what made him say that out loud, but if it had been anybody else, he would have pulled their brain apart before letting them go out in the public with that memory. Yes, he was growing, but he was still him.
"But you already do," the old man said most earnestly. "Your parents and of course, whatever lady you manage to impress in life."
The boy shook his head uncertainly. "I don't know about that," he said, hoping that he would understand, "My parents love me, sure. But it's not like that." He thought about the smile on his mother's face and how it shouldn't have seemed as new and unfamiliar to him as it had.
"All parents love their children more than anything in the world. Take it from a parent who has disappointed their child in every way possible."
"How old are they?" Of course, he too had a life beyond the lake and the trees. The boy did not know why it was so easy to forget that sometimes.
"He," the old man corrected, " is old enough."
"Well, I am sure he felt differently," the boy said with a finality that surprised him. He hadn't meant to sound so sure.
The old man smiled. "I wish I could say the same."
"You are family," the boy said, repeating what the old man had told him a long time ago. "You will find a way."
The old man looked at him strangely. In the fading sunlight, the light in his eyes shone brightly, the white of his hair borrowing a soft orange hue from the sun.
"You are a good man," the old man said, and shook his head slightly when he reminded him that he was still a boy. "You have faith in the world. Don't lose it. The war took a lot from me and what it left I couldn't keep. Don't do the same. Keep the things that matter to you close to your heart and don't let go."
The boy wasn't sure what he meant by that or why he had said it, but he didn't ask. He was happy in that moment and contented with the world in a way he hadn't known before. He wasn't sure what was new or what was different; it just was. A few minutes later the old man spoke again.
"What do you see today?" he asked.
The boy looked ahead. "Just a tired sun laying down for the night and saying goodbye to the world for today," he said, feeling very much like the weather presenter on the radio.
"Just that?" the old man asked when he didn't say anything else.
"Just that."
And they watched the sun sink down the horizon.
End of chapter
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140,293 Literary Works • 673,080 Reviews
Hi RandomTalks!
Here are my first impressions of this chapter. I thought the overall atmosphere seemed very poignant and contemplative. There were a lot of good ‘wham lines’ that sounded like they could be pieces of poetry, very quotable. It’s gone back to the usual slower pace of this story, which I think is a nice cool-down from the previous chapter.
Both the old man and the boy are sympathetic and likeable in this chapter. I like the boy’s continued curiosity and how he is slowly changing as a person while still retaining that sort of blunt, child-like personality. The old man’s regrets come across quite evidently as well, and the affection he has for his lost wife is also very sympathetic. I’m still left curious as to what happened between him and his son.
I also like the role of the old man’s wife in the story. She’s mentioned from the very first chapter, so this whole conversation has been foreshadowed since early on, and I like that her presence seems to tie a lot of different threads of the story together, like that of the father, the old man and the boy’s wonderings.
Style
I may be remembering this incorrectly, but I get the sense that a lot of the chapters taking place at the lake seem to begin and end in similar ways.
They start in the afternoon and end at sunset. The repetitiveness sort of creates an episodic feel to the story, as if each conversation could be its own self-contained story while adding up to the larger plot. I do sometimes feel a bit bogged down by the beginning of the lakeside chapters, with the description of the same setting and the boy’s internal monologue, even though there’s character development being interspersed there.
I think this line really shows the vibe of the whole novella in general. “stretch of green” is a poetic, dream-like expression, which shows the contrast between the boy’s life at home, which is more realistic, and the whimsical conversations he has with the old man.
I like how you play with the lengths of lines to create a natural rhythm to the characters thoughts. The punctuation here creates some nice pauses that keep the inner thoughts from getting too overwhelming.
I like the rhythm of this conversation. I feel like I’m using the word ‘natural’ a lot in this review, but that’s what it feels like, natural. I could imagine this chapter being adapted into a play and retaining all the same dialogue.
Characters
The boy seems to be quietly vacillating back and forth between his old habits and his new ones, at least internally. I like that he doesn’t immediately become an emotionally intelligent superpower, but sort of progresses slowly. His thoughts and reactions to how his mother responds to his change in behaviour are also interesting.
I like that we can still see some of the prior resentment in the phrase “another reason for the tension in her brows” (though the word another does get repeated twice here).
The fact that he can’t see that his family loves him quite yet I think is also quite realistic and interesting, as it seems to be a core belief of his that things just aren’t fair to him, which I think is a feeling a lot of children can relate to.
The old man’s earlier hints of sadness are more fully explained in this chapter, and I think by now a reader would be able to piece together the puzzle between the father’s words from the last chapter and this one. It’s kind of a tried and tested archetype, the elderly widow who had a ‘sweetheart’ type relationship with his deceased wife, but it is a very likeable character archetype.
That’s all
Feel free to ask me anything about this review and keep writing!
Cheers,
Lim
Banner courtesy of @ImaginativeAlice
Thank you for the review! I tried to make the story and the character development of the boy as realistically as possible.
Hi RandomTalks,
Mailice back with another review!
Whereas in the last chapter the focus was on the boy's change leading to outward characteristics, here you've managed to portray that reflection in a new light, where he deals with memories that reinforce him to continue as he started the last few days.
I think you've done a masterful job of portraying his change in the many facets well, but still maintaining the conflict he has that he doesn't feel he's ready to change. You've built up the story there in a particularly stable way and also already given the reader a good look at how he used to be, and how you're now applying that focus to show the changes.
I liked the chapter, not only because it went back to the tried and tested method of the one scene on the bench by the lake, but also because the boy now dares to ask something more without seeming rude. I also thought you pulled it off well in your reading flow and structure. I liked the structure and the scoring.
I thought the chapter was just a little short, but still you put a lot of things in there and created a great representation. I found the ending interesting and am now curious if it is the end of the story or just a kind of exciting cliffhanger.
Other points that caught my eye:
*on that bench.
Very good inclusion of this self-reflection.
I like how you manage to insert so much meaning here with very simple words. I'm not surprised that it takes the boy so long to realise not that he's growing, but that he's still him and yet he's changing. I think that's the most important point in such a change, you stay the same person but you change your way of thinking.
One thing that makes me think now is what war was it that the old man fought in? Was it WWII? Because then I feel like you create a kind of paradox with the previous chapter and the father, and how he tells how his father changed about that war. Because the main thing is how old the father is, and if he experienced a change in WWII, he should also be over eighty when you talk about video games that the boy plays. Or did you take the Vietnam War as inspiration here, for example?
Have fun writing!
Mailice
As always, thank you for the review! And I meant the Vietnam war, guess I should have mentioned that. Because as you said, if it was the WWII, it would take the story too far in the past and it wouldn't work with some of the elements, like the video games, television etc.
Hey! Forever here with a review!
First of all, your writing style and tone have done their great job in your work. Not only to the boy, but it's a journey out from the World also to your readers. It has truths, bitter truths but still, it's different. Completely different from the noisy, busy World. It's soothing and set's a tranquil silence broken by the gentle movements of the leaves in the tree. Ah no, I am not supposed to write my imagery in the review but your work makes me think of all these so I wrote.
The old man's description of her wife seem to match quite well if not perfectly with that of the boy's father. This means something. If I am not wrong, the boy's father understood his own father. Both are good ppl and loved each other but alas... They got seperated. When I read your work and then reflect upon it, it tells me a lot of things, a lot of truths the World has for us. The boy has got the kind-of personality of the old man. He has become thoughtful and reflective upon everything, starting from sighing of his mother to his brother trying to stand on his crib.
Something I want to know about it is exactly how long the Old man and the boy are talking with each other. It tells a long time but I don't really think it's a long time. So, please clarify. Anddd as of what you said, one chapter left. Can't wait to read that chapter. A gentle reminder: Find a reason for the boy's fathee knowing how the old man lived in the same town.
Overall, it was another fantastic chapter. Just lemme know if my review was of any help. If u have any questions, feel free to ask me.
Keep writing!
~Forever