by D. P. Johnson

Created on: February 20, 2009

The moon in its fullness hung barren and void upon the field of stars. Its brightness cast coldly down to the forest below. The forest, whispering and swaying, greedily absorbed the light. In the darkness of absorbed light lay a small simple cottage, dependant on the kindness of the unemotional forest.

Little Asmariea stared out into the dark depths of ancient trees. Now, as before the whispering called to her. Almost unwittingly, she said, "Yes, I hear you. Soon. Soon. I'm not ready."

"What did you say?" Mother looked up from her knitting. Grave concern was etched on her face. "Asmeriea, come away from the window. Sit here with me, the fire is warm and bright."

"Mother, I'm too tired. I think I will go to sleep now." With a good night, the young girl crawled into the bed that she and her mother shared.

For long moments Mother looked down past her knitting to the dirt floor below. When finally she looked up, her tear streaked eyes rested upon her child. Tears continued to flow. When they finally dried, she was too weary to finish knitting.

The moon, changing as always, waned to a small sliver. "Asmeriea, When the moon becomes full you will celebrate you ninth birthday. I have a gift for you, from you father and I."

Asmariea's heart sang. She had never known her father. Mother had always changed the subject whenever Asmariea questioned her about him. "Did Father come here and bring it to you? Was father here? Will he come on my birthday? Will I get to see him?"

The questions were almost too much for Mother. "No, Asmariea, Your father has been gone since the day of your birth. He gave me a gift to give to you on your ninth birthday. On that day I will give you his gift. Your questions will be answered." The finality in Mother's tone caused Asmariea's questions to die on her lips.

Mother was left to do the chores and responsibilities of their difficult life, while Asmeriea wondered the forest. Mother was unusually silent about Asmariea's wondering. Her only demand was that Asmariea be back before nightfall.

As the moon grew in size Asmeriea found it increasingly difficult to comply with her mother's one request. Her arrival back at the cottage became later and later. Most of the evening was spent staring out into the whispering darkness. Asmariea's whispered replies to the forest stabbed like knives into her mother. Much of her evening was spent in tears that even the daylight couldn't dry.

The evening before the moon gathered its full strength, Mother pulled Asmeriea from her perch by the window. "Asmeriea, if I am to give you your father's gift, I must make one request from you."

"Yes, Mother, I will do anything you ask so that I may have my gift. What must I do for you?"

"You must stay with me all day. Do not go into the forest tomorrow."

"But Mother, what reason could possibly hold me here at the cottage on my birthday? This should be my day to do as I please. It's my birthday."

"If you are to receive your Father's gift you must stay here all day long. I need your help with the work here at the cottage."

"Yes, Mother. I will stay with you so that I may receive my father's gift." Asmariea's voice was cold and unemotional. Her eyes gazed blankly at her mother. Without a word she turned and returned to her seat by the window.

The fire burned low. Silently Mother blew out the candles and went to bed. By the moon's faint glow she saw Asmariea's form against the window, still silent, still staring out the window.

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