He And The Little Oak Tree

• Stasia Hendrawan, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2009

He sat by the park alone, on the auburn seat next to an old oak tree. Everyday John Thorn was just a faded figure around the passing crowd, alone and ignored.
When the adrenaline of a warm day arrived, he was left behind to be just a spectator, just a mere letter in an epic novel.
When the sun shone, its light revealed everything but the oak tree, whose brown leaves crusted away, one by one.
He looked at it at times. His expression revealed lost hope, like it wasn’t going to gain life again. The eyebrows of the lost human creased towards each other as he turned his disappointed face away from it.
When the night came, he picked up his jacket and took one last glance at the oak tree
before walking away. Glimpses of his childhood memories filled his head. All the
wonderful picnics he had underneath that tree, his mother’s wonderful sandwiches and his father’s pat on the back. The tree, the one next to the auburn seat, was the only
memory left of his parents. He could remember everything just by looking at it and he
didn’t want the memories go away.
When John arrived during one afternoon of a Wednesday, he noticed that there was white X on the brown bark of the tree. There was a workman next to it. He was quietly
shoveling the moist soil around it.
“Hey!” He ran over to him, “What are you doing?”
The workman looked up from his work and at the man.
“This” he asked, looking down at his shovel. “They’re planning to get rid of it.”
“Get rid?” John demanded.
“Yeah,” the workman chuckled. “I mean look at it. Must have been here at least since the stone age.”
“When are you cutting it down?”
“The truck’s going to arrive in an hour.”
“An hour?” he echoed. “Wait, you can’t just cut it down.”
“Why not?”
John ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. The workman waited.
“Please,” John pleaded. “Just give it till Friday. It’ll grow something out of it.”
The man looked at him in disbelief. He dropped his shovel against the tree and walked away. John moved the shovel with his foot and ran his hands against the bark of the tree. He started to doubt his hope. He wasn’t even sure if it was going to grow back again. The bark felt rough beneath his fingers. He lightly pulled on a bare branch and closed his eyes. His parents were there, smiling at him.
Suddenly, the eyes of the man abruptly opened. He felt something, something soft against the rough feeling. When he looked at it, there was a small green leaf sprouting from the tip of the branch. His blue eyes crinkled and his face, once more, reflected the sun. A
smile spread across his face and the feeling was there. The feeling he’s been waiting so long for; hope.