The small boy tossed and turned in his sleep. Well, “sleep” would be more accurate. Although it was quite a ways past his bedtime, the young boy was determined to discover what it was that his parents did while he was snoring under his thick woolen sheets. An owl hooted in the distance, then the child could barely hear the soft screech of the field mouse that now occupied the owl’s mouth.
The boy focused on staying awake. Several times he had heard his parents conversing in hushed tones while he was sweeping the small dirt floor of their cottage, or applying fresh mud to the exterior stones to hold the house together. Several times, after returning home from picking juniper berries, the child had walked in on his parents arguing over something concerning “the pointies” or “the debt”.
Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember ever seeing the juniper berries he gathered nearly every day. He would wake up early each morning, and grab the basket right by the door. Next, the child would gently kiss his ma and da on the cheek, even though they were still sleeping. His parents were simple folk. Farmers, from a long line of farmers, with simple brown hair, simple blue eyes, and a short, friendly stature. Everything about them was simple, if a bit dull. In fact, most of their neighbors and even their neighbors’ neighbors looked alike. It was hard to tell them apart. And so each morning the boy would give his parents a quick kiss, then, basket in hand, would head out of their simple stone cottage. He would walk for about twenty minutes, until he reached the edge of the forest.
It was a large, beautiful forest. Everywhere around the boy was a vibrant land of greens, browns, and blues. Lush grass filled the countryside, and colorful rainbows of color were dotted across the land, made from the thriving wildflowers. Here, everything was colorful, glorious, and different. Back on the farm and at the cottage, everything was the same day in and day out. The people were the same, the farms the same, the houses the same, the days the same. That was why the boy loved to come to the juniper bushes. At the edge of the forest, the large bushes of the purple berries provided an escape from the monotony of life at the farm. Here, the boy was presented with fantastic adventures of getting lost in the woods, chasing wildlife, discovering new hiding places, and climbing the huge, lively trees that made up the forest.
After filling his basket full of juniper berries, the boy would take the twenty minute long walk home, and leave his basket by the door in it’s usual position. Completing his chore, he would go back to sleep for another hour or so. When the boy awoke once more, the berries were always gone. Sometimes, the boy tried to stay awake to see what his parents did with the berries once he had collected them. Oddly enough, whenever he felt that the berries would finally be dealt with, he would drift off to sleep for just a minute or so. When he woke up again, the berries would vanish. The boy often wondered how his parents could eat or use the berries so quickly. Perhaps they only did it to be rid of him for a time, and once he was back his parents would just throw them out. But that didn’t make sense either, for his parents were sensible people, like most in the area, and would never waste another’s hard work. Perhaps they had a deal with Jord, their closest neighbor. Maybe Jord got up early each morning, like the boy, to get the berries from the boy’s parents. Then, maybe when they saw Jord at the once-a-week gathering for the Farmers’ Union, Jord paid his ma and da for the berries then. But that wasn’t likely either, because Jord was always at his market stall, trying to sell the other farmers the fine grapes, jams, and grape pie-which was the boy’s favorite-that he and his family worked hard to make every week.
That was one thing that had been drilled into the boy since the moment he was born. Hard work pays off. Hard work earns your parents money. When your parents have money, you could go to school. If you worked hard at school, then you could move away to Majaen, a small village to the north of the farms. Majaen may be small, but there you could find many opportunities to get a job, and usually the workers of Majaen moved out to bigger, better jobs after ten years or so.
