By the time Calvin had climbed half way up, the fruit hanging from the top branches - always the ripest of fruit - no longer had as much appeal as they did when Calvin stood at the foot of the tree, staring up and aching to pick one of those tender peaches. But the scratches on his arms and legs weren’t going to deter him; they were just a part of the pain this seven year old body had to endure so he could understand his sister’s three words. The big sister who thought she knew it all.
“Calvin you’re just a little boy,” she had said. “As for me, I’m growing up now and you’re going to be left behind, forever a seven year old!” Thinking of those words made him feel as though he was shrivelling up inside and he couldn’t help but think of how his big ten year old sister had stood in the kitchen with her arms folded, looking down on him like he was just… a worm.
But I’m not a worm! Calvin thought defiantly.
And after all, didn’t worms live in the ground? And what about all that work he had been helping dad with? Dragging all those coils of fencing wire from the back of the tractor to where dad was working and laying out five batons evenly between the posts. He could even name more tools than before, like the “wire clamps”, or the “punch” which was used to beat the dirt down around the posts. Didn’t that mean he was learning? Didn’t dad say that that was a part of growing up?
“No Calvin, you’re just a worm boy.”
“But worms grow! I’ve seen them, big ones and small ones.”
“No, no, no,” she said while shaking her head. “Worms start off small and get fatter the more they eat, which is the only thing that will ever happen to you. You’ll just get fatter and fatter until you die from being too fat, just like a worm.”
He had tried holding back the tears, but they streamed down his cheeks anyway. “That’s not going to happen to me.” His voice sounded miserable.
“Yes it is, so...so...” At first she looked as though she didn’t know what to say which made Calvin feel a little better, but then she seemed to remember something and with her face all screwed up and her hands on her hips she said, “so eat a peach!”
That was when he had decided to climb this peach tree at the end of the driveway and… well, eat a peach. But sitting on the branches with a large rip in his favourite tee-shirt made him wonder if all this effort was worth it. Was there some kind of magical ingredient in the juices that would help him through his future life of growing fat? Maybe the food would start floating inside him so he wouldn’t feel so heavy. With this invigorating thought circling his brain, Calvin made one last push to climb a little further, ignoring the pain as offshoots slapped him in the face. Holding on to the branch beside him, he reached up with his free hand and felt the soft fur brush against his fingers, but had to tip-toe so he could get it completely in his grasp. He almost lost his footing but managed to pluck the peach in time to steady himself.
This was it, time for some answers.
He sunk his teeth in, savouring that sweet taste as he chewed and waited for something to stir inside him.
But nothing was happening. Were you supposed to know when magic is happening? Calvin couldn’t figure it out and he certainly couldn’t feel anything, except for the fruity flesh sliding down his throat as he swallowed.
Feeling rather dissatisfied and understanding even less than before, he tossed the rest of the peach away and climbed down the tree not caring about how much his scratches hurt, because they at least felt like company for his confusion.
He walked back to the house and asked mum where dad was, unsure of why it was his father he wanted to see.
“Oh, no! Calvin! What have you been up to?” But he fended off her probing arms and refused to answer her stupid questions. How could she understand? She was just like the other one, but bigger; the one who had hurt him in the first place, therefore she would only hurt him more. He pushed away from his mother and ran from the house, down to the path that lead to the little bridge that dad had made for him when he was three.
And now I’m seven, you see, I am growing! And now I can jump this stream without touching any of the planks of wood.
But as usual he landed one stride short of the end. He quickly regained his pace and set off into the hillsides heading straight for the fence line that dad had been working on yesterday. He only needed to continue along the line another minute before he found his father wriggling a post around in its hole.
“Dad!” The cry escaped from his mouth before he even thought about calling out.
His father looked up smiling. “Ahh, just the man I wanted to see.” Man! Dad had called him a Man. And he needed his son’s help!
“Come and hold this post for me will ya’ son?” Calvin held it steady trying not to let its weight push him around while dad picked up the spade and shovelled the dirt back into the hole.
Still feeling a bit out of sorts with his sister’s taunting, he looked up at his father’s hunched figure and asked, “Dad, do you think I’ll ever be able to jump all the way over that stream?”
Well! He didn’t have to laugh at him, (even though he did try holding it back). It made him feel ashamed and… little.
“What makes you ask that?”
“If I get too fat I’ll never be able to jump it.”
His father frowned. “Son, you’ve gotta stop listening to your sister, you know she’s just teasing you. Besides,” he said leaning over the spade. “You ain’t got the body for it. Why, the fat would just fall off your bones.”
That sounded like a good thing, but it still didn’t cheer Calvin up. Maybe he wouldn’t get fatter and fatter, but what if he never grew up? And his sister’s words came back to him then... “Forever a seven year old”.
His father knelt down in front of him and looked him straight in the eyes. “Believe me when I say this son, because I used to be a seven year old too.” He placed one of his big hard-working hands on Calvin’s shoulder. “As you grow older you’ll be able to cross any bridge you please, and you don’t even have to jump them, in fact sometimes it is better if you don’t jump them. Calvin, it’s all right to walk across bridges, no matter how big or small they are; no matter how big or small you are!”
Seeing Dad's smile filled him with happiness again and already he felt older.
On my way to being just like Dad. And from now on I’ll walk across every bridge no matter how big or small… no matter what anyone says!
“Calvin you’re just a little boy,” she had said. “As for me, I’m growing up now and you’re going to be left behind, forever a seven year old!” Thinking of those words made him feel as though he was shrivelling up inside and he couldn’t help but think of how his big ten year old sister had stood in the kitchen with her arms folded, looking down on him like he was just… a worm.
But I’m not a worm! Calvin thought defiantly.
And after all, didn’t worms live in the ground? And what about all that work he had been helping dad with? Dragging all those coils of fencing wire from the back of the tractor to where dad was working and laying out five batons evenly between the posts. He could even name more tools than before, like the “wire clamps”, or the “punch” which was used to beat the dirt down around the posts. Didn’t that mean he was learning? Didn’t dad say that that was a part of growing up?
“No Calvin, you’re just a worm boy.”
“But worms grow! I’ve seen them, big ones and small ones.”
“No, no, no,” she said while shaking her head. “Worms start off small and get fatter the more they eat, which is the only thing that will ever happen to you. You’ll just get fatter and fatter until you die from being too fat, just like a worm.”
He had tried holding back the tears, but they streamed down his cheeks anyway. “That’s not going to happen to me.” His voice sounded miserable.
“Yes it is, so...so...” At first she looked as though she didn’t know what to say which made Calvin feel a little better, but then she seemed to remember something and with her face all screwed up and her hands on her hips she said, “so eat a peach!”
That was when he had decided to climb this peach tree at the end of the driveway and… well, eat a peach. But sitting on the branches with a large rip in his favourite tee-shirt made him wonder if all this effort was worth it. Was there some kind of magical ingredient in the juices that would help him through his future life of growing fat? Maybe the food would start floating inside him so he wouldn’t feel so heavy. With this invigorating thought circling his brain, Calvin made one last push to climb a little further, ignoring the pain as offshoots slapped him in the face. Holding on to the branch beside him, he reached up with his free hand and felt the soft fur brush against his fingers, but had to tip-toe so he could get it completely in his grasp. He almost lost his footing but managed to pluck the peach in time to steady himself.
This was it, time for some answers.
He sunk his teeth in, savouring that sweet taste as he chewed and waited for something to stir inside him.
But nothing was happening. Were you supposed to know when magic is happening? Calvin couldn’t figure it out and he certainly couldn’t feel anything, except for the fruity flesh sliding down his throat as he swallowed.
Feeling rather dissatisfied and understanding even less than before, he tossed the rest of the peach away and climbed down the tree not caring about how much his scratches hurt, because they at least felt like company for his confusion.
He walked back to the house and asked mum where dad was, unsure of why it was his father he wanted to see.
“Oh, no! Calvin! What have you been up to?” But he fended off her probing arms and refused to answer her stupid questions. How could she understand? She was just like the other one, but bigger; the one who had hurt him in the first place, therefore she would only hurt him more. He pushed away from his mother and ran from the house, down to the path that lead to the little bridge that dad had made for him when he was three.
And now I’m seven, you see, I am growing! And now I can jump this stream without touching any of the planks of wood.
But as usual he landed one stride short of the end. He quickly regained his pace and set off into the hillsides heading straight for the fence line that dad had been working on yesterday. He only needed to continue along the line another minute before he found his father wriggling a post around in its hole.
“Dad!” The cry escaped from his mouth before he even thought about calling out.
His father looked up smiling. “Ahh, just the man I wanted to see.” Man! Dad had called him a Man. And he needed his son’s help!
“Come and hold this post for me will ya’ son?” Calvin held it steady trying not to let its weight push him around while dad picked up the spade and shovelled the dirt back into the hole.
Still feeling a bit out of sorts with his sister’s taunting, he looked up at his father’s hunched figure and asked, “Dad, do you think I’ll ever be able to jump all the way over that stream?”
Well! He didn’t have to laugh at him, (even though he did try holding it back). It made him feel ashamed and… little.
“What makes you ask that?”
“If I get too fat I’ll never be able to jump it.”
His father frowned. “Son, you’ve gotta stop listening to your sister, you know she’s just teasing you. Besides,” he said leaning over the spade. “You ain’t got the body for it. Why, the fat would just fall off your bones.”
That sounded like a good thing, but it still didn’t cheer Calvin up. Maybe he wouldn’t get fatter and fatter, but what if he never grew up? And his sister’s words came back to him then... “Forever a seven year old”.
His father knelt down in front of him and looked him straight in the eyes. “Believe me when I say this son, because I used to be a seven year old too.” He placed one of his big hard-working hands on Calvin’s shoulder. “As you grow older you’ll be able to cross any bridge you please, and you don’t even have to jump them, in fact sometimes it is better if you don’t jump them. Calvin, it’s all right to walk across bridges, no matter how big or small they are; no matter how big or small you are!”
Seeing Dad's smile filled him with happiness again and already he felt older.
On my way to being just like Dad. And from now on I’ll walk across every bridge no matter how big or small… no matter what anyone says!
