The Oak Tree

The night sky was a black canvas that enveloped the little farm. Stars dusted the dark immensity around them, a cloak that reminded them how little they were. Both humbling and beautiful, the sky was visible for the first night since the last few weeks’ heavy rain. It has been good for the crops, but it was now liberating to wander on her land without being soaking wet. On top of the shed where she was living, Silver saw a golden light, warm and inviting, contrasting from the cold beauty of the full moon and her stars. She squinted to see better in the darkness.The small shadow on the rooftop could be no one else than her mother. It seemed that, after all, she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep, even after a long day of work.
Followed by Red, Silver walked back to the shed without any hurry, smelling the wet ground and the clean smell of rain still hanging in the air. Then, she climbed on the boxes that her mother keeped against the shed so she could climb on the roof. Silver reached the top of the small building. She sat down next to her mother. Her mother looked at her and offered a smile. Crocked, that smile of hers always was, and so full of mischief and joy. The moonlight gave her a glimpse of her strawberry blonde hair, the dimples that appeared with each of her smiles and her upturned nose that Silver inherited.
Red, her fox, curled into Silver’s lap. Even if the ladies of the farm didn’t intend to sleep tonight, the fox, for one, would at least nap. The Half-Elf petted her little friend napping on her legs as her mother asked:
“You cannot sleep?” “No”, answered Silver. “I don’t know why.” “Me neither”, mutters her mother. “Something is wrong?” asked Silver, with a hint of concern. “No, my love. Nothing is wrong”, she says, her voice warm and soothing.
She picked something next to her in a basket.
“But I brought the good stuff to have a nice evening out of my insomnia.”
She pulled out a bottle of wine from the basket and opened it. She drank a sip directly from the bottle and then handed it to Silver. She tasted it and then smiled.
“Cherry wine?” “Only the best for my little wolf.”
Smiles laughed a little and gave a hug to her mother.
“Thanks, mama.”
They exchanged the bottle without sharing a word for a moment, enjoying each other’s company, the clean bright air and the coolness of the night.
“Why do you like coming to this rooftop so much?” Silver asked softly, not to disturb the peacefulness of the moment. “I can see from the big oak back here to the beginning of the forest up there. I can see everything that is ours, that will be yours when I am not there.” “You are still young, mama. It will be ours for a long time.”
Her mother held her close and nodded against her silver hair.
“Yes, I know. We have a lot of time together. Without the distraction of the outside world, without their…”
Silver tried to decipher her expression in the darkness but couldn’t understand what her mother was feeling. She looked too serious and strangely severe.
“I…saw a lot of the world before finding this place and building the farm. Chaos, violence and hate are the common currency out there. Peace, quiet and hard work are underrated things outside of this land, my wolf. This..”
Her free hand extended to her land right in front of them.
“…is our safe haven.”
Her mother raised the bottle to the farmstead and drank a big gulp.
Silver placed her head on her mother's shoulder, closing her eyes.
“You will have to tell me about what you know about the world someday, you know?” she whispered. “I am not a child anymore. I can handle the chaos, the violence and the hate if I know I have this place and that I have you. Don’t you think?”
She felt her mother's laughter against her.
“Then, we would need more bottles of that cherry wine, my love.”
Both of them giggled softly in the middle of the night. They watched the stars and the moonlight reflected on the rain drops still lingering around them. They drank and whispered secrets under the giant blanket that was the sky.
Silver didn’t know, but her mother wouldn’t be able to go back to the city for more bottles of cherry wine.
She was buried under the big oak tree the next winter, and so were her stories.

Written entirely by Véronique B. Silver