HONEY BUN, SUGAR PLUM

The mid-morning January sun was bearing down on Jemma. It was unusually warm today and her summer hat couldn't help the beads of perspiration from dripping down into the garden bed she was furiously jabbing at with a trowel.

She tried to keep her mind off things, trying not to look at the house across the street.

Why me? Why Jacob? Why not…

She put an end to her thoughts abruptly and continued raking the soil to plant Gerberas.The Buttercups were blooming and were Jacob's favorite. He and his friend Brian had planted these last spring for a school project. She ran her fingertips wistfully across each bloom as though caressing her dear boy.

Olivia had told her they would be arriving around noon. She abandoned the half dug trench, gathered the tools and walked hurriedly to the shed.

With moist eyes, she entered the cool confines of her kitchen and sat at the table, sipping an iced lemonade. It calmed her nerves.

She saw Olivia's car pulling into their driveway. Brian got out the back seat, gazing wistfully at Jemma's house. Her resolve crumbled and wild sobs racked her body.

Jacob and Brian, best buddies for fifteen years, went to the same school and class. They promised to stay through thick and thin, even signing up for organ donation campaigns held in the town. Both the mothers were aghast but in their hearts knew they had raised good boys who would one day turn out into fine gentlemen.

Everything was hunky-dory in their world until casualty struck.

A freak shootout at the school claimed many children while Brian, Jacob and a few others were rushed to intensive care with grave injuries. Tense moments later the doctor approached them and gave them the news of Jacob's passing and if they could use his heart as a transplant to save Brian's life.

Numb with grief, Jemma had signed on the dotted line…

And today, Brian was walking on his feet holding her son's precious heart. A knock on the door snapped her out of her reverie. Olivia stood with a box of honey-cinnamon buns, once a favorite of Jacob’s and Brian with his hand outstretched holding a bouquet of buttercups, eyes downcast.

The moment was frozen in time and Jemma made the first move. Hugging Brian close, she felt Jacob's heart beat inside. A steady beat which said, “Mom, I'm right here”...

Her boy lived on through his friend. With this solace and relief washing over her, she ushered them both inside for tea.

When it was time to leave, Brian stopped by the fringes of buttercups. Jacob's project had won them a prize at the gardening activity at school.

Seeing the half dug trench, and the packets of seeds lying forgotten, he rushed to the shed and returned with the trowel.

Getting down on his knees, he carefully planted the Gerbera, giving Jemma a reassuring nod.

Out of nowhere, there was a slight drizzle of summer rain and a rainbow appeared in the sky like a heavenly smile.

(Word Count : 500)

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

Pic Courtesy:Image by Petra from Pixabay

Comments

CHAPTER 1: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This post is Chapter 1 of short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. Tasseography is as old as time. The stories in the tea leaves will leave you in a spin, while the healing tea that precedes it anchors you like gripping oak roots. Every day for the next seven days, Xiu-Ying will welcome a new traveler seeking refuge from their heavy burdens, reading their futures in the settled leaves and guiding them toward peace as the seasons shift on the ridge. Welcome to The Jade Shambhala Tea House! CHAPTER 1 EARLY SPRING Ko-San Tê Bai Mudan (White Peony and Red Dates) The morning mist in the rolling hills of the 1980s Taiwanese countryside did not rise; it dissolved, burning away into thin silver threads under the persistent warmth of the early spring sun. The Yun-Shan Ridge grew f...

QUEST FOR THE BEARS (DAY 18, LETTER Q)

CHAPTER 17 QUEST FOR THE BEARS The next day, the pigs trotted off to spread mischief in the woodland, their ricky-ticky steps scuffing the damp path into a mess of overturned leaves and broken twigs. Goldwynn stayed crouched behind the wonky rain barrel until the sound of their pig-trouble thinned, then thinned again, then dissolved into the larger quiet of the trees. She didn’t move right away. The woods had a way of listening after the pigs left, as if it wasn’t sure they were truly gone. The air held its breath with her. When she finally stood, the silence felt heavier than noise. No birds called. The light came down in broken pieces, the sun playing hide-and-seek through beech and alder, dappling the forest floor with spools of pale gold. The ground under her boots was soft and cold, a black earth that smelled of truffles gone to rot and old rain. It stuck to ...

THE BIG BAD WOLF( DAY 17, LETTER T)

CHAPTER 16 THE BIG BAD WOLF The pigs snarled like proper rascals, fixing their cold steely eyes on the Wolf's cottage. How dare he refuse to part with his cottage! When the pigs demand, it's given to them---no questions asked! Porkinn limped, Baconne was soggy, Swinedell rubbed a sore bump on his head, but they were far from defeated. Swinedell snorted, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Wolf thinks 'e's posh, don't 'e? " Baconne sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "We want the cottage!” He growled. Porkinn cracked his fingers, his sly glance darting about. The pigs crept towards the back door, their footsteps silent on the soft grass. They spotted the Wolf through the kitchen window, stirring a pot of steaming stew for dinner. They kicked the door in, the wood splintering jaggedly. The latch gave in....

RUTHLESS REVELATIONS (DAY 16, LETTER R)

CHAPTER 15 RUTHLESS REVELATIONS The Three Little Pigs stood triumphant in the whimsical cottage's living room, surrounded by mismatched furniture and waltzing dust motes. Baconne , Porkinn , and Swinedell grinned at each other, puffing out their chests like gangsters. Baconne swaggered closer to the makeshift bar. "You know," he said, stroking his shoulder, "the Big Bad Wolf wasn't so bad after all, was he?" His grin split wide, showing a gold-capped tooth. The pigs snorted, their belly laughs vibrating the chandeliers above. Swinedell poured three tiny glasses of wild truffle liqueur with a theatrical flourish. "Cheers to us!" he growled, hoisting a glass. "We wanted his posh cottage for ourselves. Wolfie mutt was just defending his pad." His eyes glinted like cheap jewels. Goldwynn's face paled. She stammered as she whispered, " Wha...

CHAPTER 2: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This is a part of a short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. 7 days, 7 stories, 7 different exotic tea blends from the Far East and unique tea leaves reading for each. Welcome to the tea house! CHAPTER 2 LUNAR NEW YEAR Kim-huan Tê ( Golden Lily Oolong) The early spring air hanging over Sian-Phô village was heavy, smelling faintly of spent sulfur from the Lunar New Year firecrackers and the cold, sharp scent of wet pine needles. Up on the Yun-Shan Ridge, the festive red lanterns hanging from the eaves of the low wooden cottages were damp and water-logged, their brilliant scarlet dye bleeding slowly into the persistent gray mountain mist. The holiday had just ended, and while the rest of the village was settling into the quiet hope of a new agricultural...

Sangeetha Kamath

Search This Blog