O'Malloy's School for the Horticulturally Advanced

Chapter 2 - Ash

Ash had been saving for this for a long time. The burlap bag his family received wheat in? He'd hidden it nearby, in one of the many nooks only he knew about. Every night they had eaten food that could last a long time without an icebox (theirs already had), he tore a good portion of it off and hid it in his pocket. Later, he would go hide it in the burlap bag. He had enough food to last him a few days now. 

He decided to leave tomorrow.

Ash carefully and quietly, opened his window. It was dark outside. He crouched on his windowsill, surveying the scene, then climbed to the ground. It was only scary  if you looked down, and he had learned that lesson a long time ago. Once on the ground, he climbed up into the warm embrace of his aspen tree. Ash had a secret.

I'm leaving tomorrow, Aspen.

Ash could talk to plants. His best friend, a sprawling aspen, was located conveniently outside his house.

Aspen? 

Yes?

There you are. I'm leaving tomorrow. 

For where?

That school, O'Malloys. I have enough food stored for the trip.

Is there anything I can do to convince you not to go? You're taking off into the woods after a fairy tale, you know.

But it has to be real. I need it to be true.

Just because you need something, doesn't mean it's true.

But this is! I was talking to the trees on the edge of the forest and they said-

Ash heard someone coming down the street and climbed up a little higher. His father walked up the steps to their house. He had forgotten how late he came home on  Tuesdays. Cursing himself for his stupidity, he jumped down as soon as his father closed the door. Who knew how soon he'd come in to check on Ash? Scrambling up the side of the building like a lizard, he had only just started to step back inside the window when he heard his father and mother talking downstairs. He slipped inside and pressed his ear to the floor.

"It's just too much," he heard his father say. "Ash needs to come help me with the job."

"You know he can't do that," his mother said.

"Yes, he can," his father's voice rose. "That kid needs to start doing something productive."

His mother whispered something Ash couldn't make out.

"That kid's useless!" his father shouted. Ash jerked away from the door. He didn't need to hear any more. In a few moments he had stuffed pillows under his blankets to make his parents think he was sleeping. An old, cliche, trick, but it had helped him more times than he cared to admit. He climbed back outside and, clinging to the windowsill, shut the window. He was leaving today.

Ash! Aspen called to him.

I'm leaving tonight. 

What happened?

My parents were talking about me. Pa said I'm useless. He knew Aspen could sense the emotion in his call.

I'm sure he didn't mean it. It was probably just a bad day at work. If you would just- Ash didn't wait for her to finish.

This is what they think of me. I've heard them talk about me before. I'm done with excuses. I'm leaving.

I'll miss you.

I'll miss you too, but I need to do this.

Go, then. I'll miss you more than you know.