The Cane Field {Short}

The Cane Field

The swaying golden blades of cane dance in the wind, every now & then they let the thin light from the flame lit sun pierce them, almost like a video on replay this motion continues throughout the day. As the song made from the brushing of each leaf of cane flows through the fogged & partly cracked window of Oliver's room, he writes. Each word representing an occurrence that has left him wanting more, each sentence keeping the next in check, every page is a dream. Darkness starts to break through the light as the sun rolls further around the earth, on an adventure to reach the other side. Just like the sun, Oliver shuts his journal & ventures downstairs to be greeted by his family during dinner, which was scattered out around the table with multiple sets of shining silver utensils & plain white glass plates in between the crowded table. The sound of clashing forks & knives, chewing & chatter fill the dining room giving the whole house a warm mood, only one thing can break this, and that is delivered by a yawn. Oliver quickly covers his mouth then rubs his eyes, his misty tired eyes shut a bit but are forced back open by his parents demand on a clean table & him to be in bed. The duties are done at a slow pace, the house is set to silent as all the lights are turned off & the family move upstairs to their designated bedrooms, as Oliver passes his mother she runs her hand through his soft, fluffy hair & then walks off into her room situated across the elongated hall. Oliver slightly almost silently moans in accordance with his mother's soothing & caring words. Oliver's hands meet with his bedroom door's handle, with a slight twist & a couple of clicks the door creaks open and he is greeted into his room with a shiver-inducing breeze and a made bed. The tall white door shuts off the light from Oliver's shadow filled room, as it does his legs give way and he collapses in the softly, gently washed sheets that cover his bed and his eyes lock shut. Like clouds, thoughts and memories flow into his head creating dreams & nightmares. Once again the bright and almost luminescent gold cane fill the scene, Oliver stands tall at the edge of a wall which almost reaches the clouds, the wall made out of cane. As the wind blows against the large trees of cane a small opening, just large enough to walk through opens, the atmosphere emitted from this is dark but seems adventurous and fun. Oliver looks side to side and sees that the cane looks like it goes on forever, in curiosity Oliver slow twists and turns around noticing that the wall is behind him as well, either way, he has to enter. Oliver steps forward, the grass crunching under his feet and his short brown hair swaying with the wind, the next step surrounds him in darkness and silence. Not a whisper or a breath, he quickly regrets his decision and turns to find that he is now surrounded, in the middle of a large forest not made of trees but the tall standing cane. The ground is full of roots that used to be so small but are now as large as a thin tree, Oliver slowly manoeuvres his feet so that he doesn't trip and as he does a large breeze flies at him from behind, almost like a tornado instead more sudden. He falls back and places his hands first which sink into the dirt like it's mud, his hand covered in sludge Oliver wipes his hands on his shirt a couple of times then scans around the shadowed and desolate wasteland and notices a path in which the cane is all blown off to the sides and a dim yellow light is shone at the end of it, his hand reaches out and grasps the light as if it was in front of him. The sheer determination that Oliver had allowed him to carry on and so he did, with every step he shortened the long path he had ahead of him. As Oliver was nearing the set destination his foot transitioned from the soft, sticky mud to a hard, solid object that had sunken over time into the ageing field. Its colour seemed to have corroded into a deep oak and it's form shaped out to be a chest like object that had lightly cut cloud designs covering the top, most likely representing the skies above. Oliver's hands gripped the sides of the chest's lid and lifted using most of his strength just to keep a hold of the chest rather than to pull it, a couple drops of sweat and rough tugs the chest was heaved out of the ground and placed down on the mud filled ground in front of Oliver. His hands were left red and were aching, which he could feel as he undid the aged and rusted hatch that held the box shut and then lifted the weighted lid that blocked him from the innards before him. A darkness that was inscribed inside the box quickly was relinquished and replaced with a low pitched light that filled the canes, his eyes quickly adjusted to the insides of the chest and he rubbed his eyes a bit to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Oliver shot his hands into the box then dragged the item out of its home, he was right. His journal. The pages flickered as he quickly reviewed over everything to make sure that is was his, the words shone a golden brown amongst the white ruled pages which seemed to be a dark grey in the shade. Oliver stopped on a page that seemed to call out, it's contents screamed at Oliver, asking to be read and so he did, with the words flowing through his mind he couldn't help but continue and start to read it out loud, "The fire spread, continuously and didn't stop as it ravaged through the dense forest . . .". Oliver could have read for ages, but as a charcoal burnt smell entered his nose and the sound of crackling and strong winds entered his ears, he knew he was in danger. As if straight from the book, the long straws of cane were crashing down due to the rampaging flames tearing them apart from above and below its roots, Oliver starts to run faster to get a head start against the fuelled flames that seem to be targeting him. His pace grows the more he turns focus toward the end of the path of blown cane, a single trip or mislead thought could bring him back into the fiery hot path of the fire that was spiralling through the canes. With the fields becoming as hot as a furnace, the mud below Oliver's feet started to melt down & become like quicksand. The ground quickly consumed Oliver's legs and waist as he clawed at the earth trying to find a root to take a hold of instead, all of his struggles locked his fate in place as Oliver's screams and mumbles were muffled in the mud. Everything was darkness, a couple of stars in his view and the feel of wind forcing its self against his back. Oliver noticed that the stars seemed to diminish before his eyes, he turned and quickly adjusted to the fact that he was falling. With the burnt cane fields growing closer to him all he could do was watch, the golden yellow swords of cane turning to black charcoal amidst the black smoke that was being absorbed into the sky. Oliver's eyes becoming foggier by the second, he shut them and let himself fall, the wind brushing against his face suddenly came to a halt. Oliver's eyes flickered open noticing the light that encumbered the room considering he was just falling from a night sky, the smell of burnt cane filled the air and was the hindering reminder of the dream that Oliver had found himself in. Although it was just a mere set of thoughts compiled into an unrealistic dream, he had to know. Oliver sprung up out of his bed with the floor creaking underneath his feet which didn't stop until he reached the window, all that was left in the cane field were piles of ash and the scorched dirt that had consumed him only a couple of minutes beforehand. He staggered back away from the window in disbelief of how detailed this dream was to reality, Oliver took smalls steps to his desk as he recounted what had happened, and as soon as he could he wrote every little detail in his journal. Oliver would never forget this adventure he went on, one that would take him to the sky, without leaving his room. The End.