The Seed of Hope

By Quinton Wall

Charlie Parker was excited. What kid wouldn’t be on Talent Day? By the end of the day he might be able to fly, or turn invisible, or more! In Devon Grove, magic was real. And it literally grows on trees. One tree anyway, the Talent Tree.

Charlie’s father was the Keeper of the Talent Tree. One day Charlie would be too. That is if someone hadn’t stolen his talent, drained all the magic from the tree, and threatened to destroy the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Quinton Wall
• Release date: Jun 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9780998212425

Quinton Wall

Australian by birth, Adventure photography and digital nomad by life.

Book preview

Chapter 1: Pancakes for Breakfast

Charlie! yelled Mrs. Parker from downstairs in the kitchen. Are you up yet? You don’t want to be late now, do you?

Charlie pulled the covers around him, burying himself in their warm embrace. Thoughts tugged at him, drawing him from his sleep. Today was a big day for the Parker household, and his father in particular. Everyone knew the Parker family: Nick and Elizabeth, Charlie’s parents, Charlie and his twin sister Penny. The Parkers came from a respected family that had made the small town of Devon Grove their home for generations.

Devon Grove, perfectly situated along the Californian coast about three hours south of San Francisco, was blessed with a temperate climate most of the year. The air was fresh and carried the scent of the sea, but also early morning fog that would creep over the sea cliffs into the town. It never made it to the center, though. That was where the Grove started. Charlie’s father was the Keeper of the Grove, or more precisely, the great Talent Tree which towered hundreds of feet into the air. One day, the task of caring for the Tree would be Charlie’s responsibility.

Charlie tossed and turned, burrowing deeper under the covers. Not yet, he sighed. He wasn’t ready for that. His father would tend the Tree for many years still. Perhaps long enough that Charlie might find some way to escape his duty as the eldest, and the only son.

You can’t escape fate, and as the Keeper of the Tree, it’s up to you to give fate a hand, Charlie’s father frequently reminded him. Charlie knew his fate was tied to Devon Grove and the Talent Tree. He could escape it as easily as escaping Devon Grove — which was nearly impossible. Somehow the Tree protected the small town from discovery from the outside.

No map ever showed that the town existed. The Tree — and its magic — were hidden from the rest of the world. The Tree had cast an invisible bubble, called the Shimmering, over the area, keeping the town’s magic in. Locals never left and outsiders rarely visited. Something compelled everyone to stay. Most people never even considered leaving.

Charlie did, though. But was it even possible to leave? Occasionally an outsider would stumble into town by mistake. When they did, they never left. There were rumors of people who had. Charlie’s friend Gideon’s mother was supposed to have left but no one knew for sure. Rumors grow like weeds in small towns like Devon Grove.

One day he would tend the Great Tree, just as his father did, and his father before that. And today was the biggest day of the year for a Keeper. Today was Talent Day.

Talent Day was not only biggest day of the year, but the biggest day of a child’s life. Unlike Christmas, which came every year, you only ever had one Talent Day when you were thirteen years old. This year it was Charlie and his sister’s turn. Their birthday was five months ago.

Of course, he couldn’t wait to get his talent. But it also meant he was one step closer to taking over his father’s position. Fate. You can’t run from it, no matter what talent you receive.

He tossed and turned, feeling the weight of future responsibility. He had never really wanted to assume his father’s role but he saw little choice. It was expected of him as the next Parker boy.

Perhaps it won’t be that bad, he thought. After all, he loved hiking the maze of trails that surrounded Devon Grove. Caring for the Talent Tree would allow him to spend hours outside in the sunshine. Besides, maybe if it didn’t work out, he could use those same trails and leave Devon Grove. Once, when he was deep in the woods, he thought he felt the edge of the bubble that protected the town from the outside world. What would happen if he could actually leave? What would happen to the Talent Tree if he never became the Keeper after his father retired?

Charlie swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped to the ground, yawning. He hadn’t slept well last night. Despite his fear of the future, today was his Talent Day! By the end of the day, it was quite possible his talent would give him the ability to fly through the sky like the birds. He’d heard of the talents of old, so powerful he would be like a superhero from the movies. No one had received a talent like that for many years, but it was possible! The Talent Tree was magical after all. Charlie smiled in anticipation. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, put on his slippers, and went downstairs to start the day.

Penny sat at the table, filling her mouth with some of their mom’s homemade pancakes. Mouth full and food spitting everywhere, she excitedly described what sort of talent she was going to get.

I bet it’s going to be something awesome like reading people’s minds. That’s gotta be it! I can’t wait, Mommy. I just can’t wait! Penny babbled between mouthfuls of pancake. The only time she stopped was to take a breath and gulp down some juice.

What are you smiling at? she teased Charlie. If you had looked at yourself in the mirror this morning, you might not be smiling anymore. She poked her tongue out, almost dropping a mouthful of pancakes right onto the floor.

Not today, Charlie’s mother interrupted, her shoulder-length sandy-blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Today, you all have to be on your best behavior. It’s a big day for you both, and for your father. Now sit, Charlie. Sit, she chirped. Are you excited about Talent Day?

Charlie nodded, still wiping sleep from his eyes. He took a seat at the table. Penny resumed talking excitedly about what her talent might be. Charlie slouched back in his chair, stomach grumbling eagerly.

Here you go, sweetie. Mrs. Parker ruffled Charlie’s hair as she placed a plate of pancakes, stacked high, in front of him. Eat up. You have a big day ahead of you. I remember my Talent Day. I was so hungry from standing in that line and waiting for my turn that I almost ate an apple lying on ground, and we all know what happens then!

Charlie nodded again, drawing away from his mom’s touch. Why did parents have to pat you like a dog all the time? Uh-huh, he said, and began eating.

Just remember, Charlie, wait your turn. Don’t worry if all the other kids look like they are getting the good talent apples. Yours was chosen for you at birth. You are just there to collect it. The magic is inside. It has been, since the apple started to grow when you were born. All you have to do now is catch it and take a bite. Mrs. Parker shimmered for a moment, and all of a sudden there were two of her. The first Mom headed back to the stove to fetch another skillet of pancakes, tossing them high in the air. The second Mom walked to the pantry, retrieved a bottle of maple syrup, and placed it on the table.

Thanks, Mom, Charlie said, his stomach rumbling again in anticipation, but do you really have to do that when we are eating?

The two Mrs. Parkers merged back together and she smiled at Charlie. Oh, Charlie, wait till you have your talent, and we will see how long it takes you to start using it.

Charlie dug into the pancakes, devouring two before slowing down. Finally, after another half a pancake and a contented sigh, he stopped, stuffed full. He sat back, wiped his mouth, and ran his finger unconsciously across the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Like many children of the town, he had a sun-kissed appearance thanks to the abundant sunshine the seaside community enjoyed.

Pushing his plate away, bare save for a few scraps soggy with maple syrup, he looked up and stretched. Somewhere around his second pancake Penny finished talking about the talent she was sure she was going to get and rose from the table. She kissed her mom on her cheek, her shiny ashen-blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders, before heading upstairs to find her shoes.

Taller than many of the other girls in class, Penny was only slightly shorter than Charlie. She had inherited both the light hair and her height from her mother. Unlike Charlie, though, she had never really thought about leaving the small town. Penny was content with hearing the news from elsewhere on the television or from her geography lessons at school. Her family and friends were in Devon Grove and that was enough for her. Just like most people, for her Devon Grove was everything. Why would you ever want to leave such a magical place? Everything you needed was right here.

All done? Charlie’s mother asked, scooping up the plates before he could even respond. It’s time for you to get ready for the ceremony. Make sure you brush your teeth and, Charlie…

What?

Please pick out something nice to wear.

I know, I know, Charlie whined.

I hope you aren’t going in your pajamas. Are you? His mother laughed and pointed up the stairs. Now go. Otherwise we will be late.

Charlie hurried upstairs to his bedroom, taking two steps at a time. Opening the closet door, he began looking for something to wear. His mother’s voice drifted from downstairs: Your best clothes, remember, Charlie. Everyone will be there.

Yes, Mom. Parents. They have to repeat the same thing a dozen times.

Charlie pushed aside hangers full of T-shirts, jeans, and sweaters until he found what he was looking for: a white shirt and black pants. The shirt was a little wrinkled but it’d do.

Twenty minutes later, he descended the stairs and entered the living room dressed and ready to go. He had combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and washed his face. He didn’t look too bad, he admitted to himself.

Penny, dressed in a white summer dress with flowers along the bottom, was already waiting to leave. She had tied her hair back with a white ribbon that matched her dress and tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear.

Oh, Charlie, their mother said, kneeling in front of Charlie and pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, you have a spot of maple syrup on your cheek. Just for one day, couldn’t you keep yourself presentable? Squirming, he protested briefly before giving in. Tucking the handkerchief back into her pocket, Mrs. Parker straightened, surveying her work, Good. Everyone ready?

With a broad smile, Penny opened the door, and they stepped out to the bright morning sun.

Chapter 2: The House on Gravel Lane

Gideon drew back the dark, heavy blinds on his bedroom window and winced as the sun flooded in. He quickly pulled them shut again. It was too bright. Pushing aside soda cans and an old pizza that cluttered his desk, he swung himself onto the revolving chair. With a tap of a key, the monitor came to life, glowing a pale luminous green. He had written a small program the night before that would crawl the internet for any potential postings of his mother. Recently her disappearances had grown more frequent and longer. This time, she had been gone for over a month. No one had heard anything. Everyone assumed she had left Devon Grove. Now he was stuck in this town alone. Well, he wasn’t actually alone, his dad was here, but Gideon would have preferred his dad to go missing too. The search returned no results, as usual.

A reminder popped up on his screen. It blinked Talent Day. He was looking forward to getting a talent. Of course, who wouldn’t be? You received your magical talent. But it also meant facing the kids from school again. They teased him mercilessly, calling him names and cruelly taunting him about his mother leaving him. On Talent Day, though, with the entire town council present, they would surely have to be on their best behavior. He preferred spending time with his computer rather than most of the kids at school. Computers didn’t tease him, or boss him around. In the world of computers, he was the master of everything.

He was about to play a quick game on the computer when he heard the doorknob rattle. The lock clicked and the door swung open. He tapped a key, causing the screen to go blank. Gideon turned to see his father silhouetted in the doorway.

Gideon! Get off that computer and get yourself dressed. Try to look decent for a change, will you? It’s Talent Day, after all, you know.

I know, Dad, Gideon grunted, standing up from his desk. Is Mom here?

No, Gideon’s father said flatly, his oily black hair and podgy nose making him the spitting image of his son. She’s gone again. I don’t know when she will be back. Now get a move on, or we will be late. And for Talent’s sake, clean up this room. You spend so much time in here you should at least make it livable. He slammed the door behind him and stomped off down the hallway, cursing loudly as he went.

Gideon’s mother often vanished for days on end. For as long as he remembered, she had battled with depression of one form or another, and she regularly just… well, disappeared. Truthfully, he was thankful for it most of the time, because when she was home, she and his father would fight constantly, and eventually they would blame him for whatever the argument was about.

At least she could have been here for my Talent Day, though, he thought bitterly.

Gideon switched on the lamp beside his bed. A dull light glowed from under the lampshade, projecting the shadow of a sock against the far wall. Pulling the sock off the lampshade, he began searching around the room for something clean to wear. He selected a blue shirt and black slacks that were lying on top of a pile of clothes near his closet. They were wrinkled but looked clean enough. He dressed and grabbed a belt and a pair of black shoes that desperately needed buffing.

Slipping on his shoes, he tapped the spacebar on the keyboard and his computer monitor sprang to life again. Still no search results. With another tap on the keyboard, the glow from the monitor vanished, and Gideon walked out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Is that what you’re wearing? It’s a mess, his father, dressed in a shirt more wrinkled than his own, barked at him when he reached the kitchen. Oh, and take the trash out before you eat, okay? And be quick about it. We’ll be late.

Whatever, Gideon mumbled under his breath. He took the grimy trashcan from beside the sink to the back door. The trash stank. It was his responsibility to take the trash out and he hadn’t done it since last weekend. The back-door hinges squealed, in desperate need of oil. He stepped down the two rickety stairs to the large plastic dumpster and heaved the contents in. Disgusting.

After tipping the final few scraps of moldy leftovers into the garbage bin, Gideon walked back up the stairs, holding the plastic bin out to the side in an effort to avoid the stench. The bin thump-thumped against the stairs. He opened the squealing door again, placed the bin back beside the sink, and made himself some cereal.

And when you’re done with your breakfast, fix that squeaking door, okay? How many times are you going to go through it without fixing it, huh?

Gideon didn’t say anything. He wanted to ask why his dad hadn’t fixed it. His dad used that door just as much as Gideon did and, to the best of his knowledge, could hear perfectly well. In fact, he knew that his dad had very good hearing because just the other week, when Gideon had attempted to sneak out of his room one evening, he had run right into his dad in the hallway. His father had taken his computer away for a whole week and threatened to throw this useless piece of junk over the cliff into the ocean and see whether the seals like it. Silence just now was the right approach, Gideon decided. He didn’t want to risk missing out on Talent Day.

Gideon crunched his cereal as he thought about whether he could use his talent to get away from this house and his parents, and go somewhere other than Devon Grove. For his whole life, he had been bullied and teased at school. His father had a low-paying job at the cannery down by the wharf, and his mother — well, on the rare occasions that she was here — she did next to nothing except yell curses at the passersby from the dilapidated front porch. To kids looking for a target for their teasing, his mother’s condition was a veritable gold mine of material.

It wasn’t just the front porch that was in desperate need of repairs. The whole house was run down. A few blocks from the town square, it was situated on a large lot at the end of Gravel Lane. The house once belonged to his grandparents on his mother’s side, who had passed away when he was very young. Perhaps when they owned it, it had been in better shape. In terms of location, the house was in the more expensive part of town. It was near the waterfront and had decent ocean views from the second floor. Now it was the neighborhood eyesore. He hated this house and everything about it.

Taking another spoonful of cereal, Gideon daydreamed about getting a talent that might give him the power to touch anything and turn it to gold. The first thing he would do with the money from selling the gold would be to buy a motorbike and ride right out of town and never look back. No, maybe he would get a talent that would enable him to teach all the kids at school a lesson for teasing him. Yeah, that would be perfect. He smiled between gulps. I would take my motorbike and magical powers and show them all.

Thwack!

Gideon almost choked on his cereal as his father clouted him on the back of the head.

Did you hear me, boy? You were mumbling to yourself and looking off into space. If you go nuts like your mother, don’t think I am looking after you as well, you hear? I have enough to deal with her without you going to the loony bin too. If it weren’t for the house being in your mother’s name, I would have kicked her out long ago, but I don’t have any hesitation about sending you packing as soon as you are old enough to get a real job and stop wasting your time on that computer day and night. Now hurry up, or we will be late.

Gideon took a few more spoonfuls of cereal. He picked up his bowl and his father’s plate from the table and put them on the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink. Before his father could scold him for not doing the dishes, he said, I know, I know — when I get back, I’ll do the dishes.

His father just grunted in acknowledgement before adding, Ah, the boy does learn after all. Pushing back his chair, he opened the back door and walked outside. The hinges squealed loudly. Come on, then. Let’s go.

Gideon turned back to look up the hallway. He took in the filthy rooms and murky windows. He hated this place. Why did he have to live here? With these parents? In this town? Maybe Talent Day would give him the ability to leave.

He slammed the door behind him. It was the only way to make sure that it closed properly. If you didn’t slam it hard enough, the door had a habit of swinging open on its own. Not that there was anything worth stealing, except for his computer, he thought as he walked around the side of the house to the front pathway leading to the street. The pathway that had long since buckled from a gnarled oak tree growing in the front garden.

Good luck, Gideon! came a voice from across the road.

It was Mrs. Pansy. She looked like a peacock in a dress of yellows and greens. She looked like she was headed to the ceremony as well. The whole town usually turned up for the Talent Day festival. Two years prior, her own daughter Lucy had received her talent and was still showing off how she could jump off the cliffs by the ocean and land on her feet unharmed. He had to admit it was a pretty good talent, but Gideon was hoping for something with a bit more — kick, He walked past Mrs. Pansy, ignoring her.

His father stopped beside the broken gate in the low stone wall that ran the length of the property. He looked at Gideon with a strange expression on his face. Clearing his throat, he began, Ah, now you are too young to understand this, but—

Save it. I know already: Talent Day, don’t embarrass me… yadda yadda, Gideon said bitterly.

Seriously, boy, you don’t make this easy, his father continued, but Talent Day can make or break your future. You don’t want to end up like this, do you? He motioned toward the disheveled house behind them. Listen, I know what you are thinking, but if you see a good apple that you think you can get before one of them other kids get it, do what you have to do, okay? They already have enough, and you need it more than them. Somewhere along the line, we got the bad end of the deal, the rotten apple. Maybe you can tip the balance back in our favor somewhat.

Gideon looked at his father, shocked. He had never thought about it this way before. Perhaps his father was right? Perhaps all of this wasn’t fair and it was just some twist of fate that had stuck him with a deadbeat father and an unstable mother. Perhaps he could take the best talent and turn it all around? Would the kids at school stop teasing him after that, or would it make it worse? They would all know what he did; he couldn’t hide it. Maybe Charlie, his only real friend, would even stop talking to him. Then he would really be alone. But if I got a really amazing talent, would it matter? I’d leave Devon Grove and never come back.

Lost in thought, Gideon opened the gate and stepped out onto the street, still ignoring Mrs. Pansy’s incessant waving. Putting his hands in his pockets and looking at the pavement, he shuffled along toward the town square where he could hear the crowd congregating a few blocks away. His father walked along beside him, muttering constantly about fixing the balance and taking what is yours. Gideon tried to block it out by listening to the surf rolling into the cliffs at the other end of the street.

Today was supposed to be a special day, but all he could think of was getting it over with.

Chapter 3: Small Town Rumors

The mornings in Devon Grove were typically chilly. Early morning fog, burning off by mid-morning to be replaced by blue skies and a brightly shining sun. Today the fog had cleared early, but a cold breeze blew. Mrs. Parker wrapped a light shawl around her shoulders as they walked toward the Four-Cornered Grove in the center of town.

The Parkers lived to the east of the Grove, slightly up on the hill where the mornings were a little less foggy and the houses not as close together as those that jostled for position on the waterfront. The Parkers liked their space, with Mrs. Parker constantly tending her garden and the small vegetable patch planted on the side of the house.

The walk to the edge of the Grove was short, ten minutes or less. Today it took longer. The streets were lined with neighbors wishing the kids good luck, and wishing their parents even better luck, in case their child received a talent that might cause havoc on the family. It was rare these days for a child to be given a powerful talent but there was still the occasional one that, when used in anger, could tear a house down around a family.

The past two decades had seen a steady decline in strong talents bestowed on the children. There had been one year, about six years ago, that had produced a number of rare talents though. The town had celebrated, overjoyed that the dry spell was over. Unfortunately, the rare talents faded again. The following year produced the worst showing of talents anyone could remember, with each subsequent year getting steadily worse. The gossip had started — was Charlie’s father doing a good job? Should he be replaced as Keeper of the Tree? It had never happened before. There was always a first time, though.

Charlie and Penny walked quickly, avoiding the older neighbors who seemed to gain some morbid pleasure in pinching their cheeks and passing comments.

How quickly you’ve grown up, commented Mr. Bartholamew.

I remember when you were still in diapers, beamed Mrs. Slips.

Charlie stared at his feet. The comments only managed to remind him that he had spent his whole life in this town. He had never even lived in another house! Sure, he knew about the rest of the world through what Mrs. Percy, his geography teacher, taught him at school and what he had learned on the Internet, but he had never been anywhere. He didn’t really mind Devon Grove. Living in a small town was, for the most part, fun. But Charlie couldn’t help thinking there was more to see beyond the small seaside town he called home.

Charlie, look out! came a scream from behind. With a loud thud, an apple the size of an overinflated basketball crashed to the ground in front of him and started gently rolling down the hill. Charlie leapt back, looking up in surprise to see where the apple had fallen from. Blinking against the morning sun, he saw a large black raven perched