Driftwood Page 2

  I changed back into the cold, damp clothes, and Joey and I went outside so they could air dry like Lisa had said.

  We sat on a picnic table near the cabin.

  “How long are you guys staying here?” I asked him.

  “Two weeks. We come here for the first half of July every summer,” he said. After a minute, he added, “Lisa has a boyfriend.”

  “Shut up,” I told him.

  It wasn’t long before I looked up to see my dad coming toward us. Luckily, I was pretty well dry, except for my shoes.

  “Howdy there, stranger,” he said, nodding at Joey and sticking out his hand when he reached us.

  “Uh, howdy,” Joey said. He shook Dad’s hand but he didn’t look too excited about it.

  “Sorry to break up this party, partner, but we’ve gotta go rustle up some grub,” Dad told me.

  “Does Adam have to go?” Joey asked. “’Cause my mom wouldn’t mind watching him.”

  Dad hesitated, looking over his shoulder toward our cabin. He seemed to be thinking about it, which Joey saw as a chance to race the few steps to his cabin door and get his mom. She came outside and told Dad she’d be more than happy to keep an eye on me for a while. That settled it and a few minutes later Mom and Dad drove off, waving like they weren’t going to see me for months.

  “Your dad talks kinda weird,” Joey observed.

  “He always does that for the first few days when we go on vacation,” I said. “I don’t know why.”

  “Doesn’t it embarrass you?” Joey asked.

  “Well, sure, but what can I do about it?”

  “That’s true,” he said. His head snapped up with a thought. “Hey, you want to make some money?”

  “Okay,” I said. “How?”

  “There’s an old guy who lives up that way,” Joey said, with a vague wave, “and he pays for hunks of driftwood that wash up on shore.”

  “How come?”

  “I dunno. He makes stuff out of them or something and he can’t find any himself because he’s blind.”

  I wasn’t all that keen, but there was nothing else to do so I shrugged and said, “Okay then.”

  “He pays five bucks if it’s good enough for him to use. Come on, I’ll show you where he lives, and we can check the shore on the way.”

  I followed him across the road and down to the water’s edge. I noticed that he ignored the road for taking boats to the water, just like I had earlier. It’s way better to climb down over a bunch of rocks.

  We kept our eyes peeled for pieces of driftwood as we made our way along the curve of the shore line. It was a fairly long walk and for awhile there was nothing promising. The wet sand was covered in stones, some shells, and a few scruffy twigs that nobody could possibly want. Then I noticed a branch partly buried in the sand where the curve of the bank began. I hurried over and tugged it free. It wasn’t very big, but I thought it looked kind of interesting.

  “Are you nuts or what?” Joey shouted when he saw what I had. “He’s not gonna want that scraggly thing.”

  He was probably right, but I held onto it anyway while Joey had himself a good laugh. When he finally quieted down a bit I said, “I’ll be the one laughing if it gets me five bucks.”

  “No fear of that,” he snickered.

  “You never know.”

  Joey shook his head but he quit laughing and he didn’t say anything else for a couple of minutes. I could tell I’d gotten to him when he said, “No way Theo will want that. But, suppose he did—we’d be splitting the money, right?”

  “Wrong,” I said. “I found this and all you did was make fun of it.”

  “Yeah, but I told you about him and everything. We’d have to be partners. It’s only fair.”

  “No way,” I said.

  “Then maybe I won’t even take you there.”

  I didn’t answer him and, though he scowled at me a couple of times, he didn’t make good on his threat. We kept walking, and before long he pointed up the bank.

  “There it is. That’s where he lives.”

  I don’t think I would have seen the house at all, if he hadn’t shown it to me. It was a tiny place tucked away in the woods that sprouted up past the crest of the bank. The outside of the house had grey shingles that blended in with the tree trunks and the roof was covered in some kind of moss.

  Joey and I scrambled up the bank and snaked our way in among the trees until we were standing in the small clearing that surrounded the house. And there, sitting outside on a faded back deck, was an old man in a wooden rocking chair.

  “Hello! Hello!” he said. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me—Joey,” Joey said, “And I brought someone with me—Adam. He’s staying in one of the cabins too.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, young man,” the old guy said. He looked in my direction but not right at me. “My name is Theo Banyan.”

  “Hi,” I said. It felt like that wasn’t enough—like I should say something else, so I added, “I’m Adam, sir,” even though Joey had already told him my name.

  “Call me Theo,” he said. “Everyone does.”

  “Yes, sir—I mean, Theo.”

  We were close enough now that I could see the old man’s eyes. They were strange looking—like someone had painted white clouds over the coloured parts.

  The old man nodded and smiled and said, “Someone has taught you good manners.”

  “Yes, sir, Theo,” I said. “It was my mom. She doesn’t want our relations to think I was raised in a barn.”

  “Good manners are like keys,” he said. “Did you know that?”

  I wondered if this was some sort of a puzzle, or if maybe Theo was a little odd.

  “Keys? Like for doors?” Joey asked.

  “For doors, yes. And for other things too—like treasures and trophies and an old man’s heart.”

  I had no idea what that meant, and by the look on Joey’s face, neither did he. He shrugged a shoulder at me and then turned back to our host.

  “Say, Theo,” Joey said, “Adam is going to be here for the whole summer.”

  “Is that so?” Theo said. I noticed that his hands were resting on his knees. Veins stuck up on the backs of them like really skinny worms. His fingers were long and boney.

  “His parents went to buy food,” Joey continued. “Or ‘grub,’ as his dad called it.”

  “Speaking of grub,” Theo said with a chuckle, “would either of you boys care for an oat cake?”

  “Not me,” said Joey.

  “I never heard of an oat cake before,” I said. I thought that might sound rude so I added, “But I bet it’s real good.”

  “Well, you just wait right here and I’ll bring one out so you can try it,” Theo said. He stood up slowly, moving his arms and legs like he was testing to make sure everything worked. Then he took a few careful steps to the cabin door and disappeared inside.

  “You’ll be sorry,” Joey told me as soon as Theo was out of sight.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You think you’re getting a delicious hunk of cake, don’t you? Well, you’re not. It’s going to be a hard old cookie. You just watch.”

  I looked nervously at the doorway and saw Theo on his way back. He was holding a small plate with a flat, pale cookie on it.

  “Adam?” he said once he was on the veranda again.

  I stepped closer. “I’m here,” I said. The cookie didn’t look any better up close.

  “Here’s your oat cake,” Theo said. He sounded proud and pleased. I reached out and took it. It felt hard all right and dry, but I said thanks anyway.

  “Enjoy!” Theo said with a smile.

  “It looks great,” I lied. I lifted it slowly toward my face but it was like my mouth didn’t want to open. It took some effort but I forced myself to nibble a tiny bit off the edge. It wasn’t delicious, but, honestly, it wasn’t that bad either. Mostly, it was kind of bland but I could taste the oatmeal in it, and I like oatmeal okay.

  I
was about to tell Theo that it was good when an odd look came over his face. His hand reached down, sweeping the air on my left side. When it connected with the piece of driftwood I’d found on the shore, his head popped up and his smile got even wider.

  “Is this for me, Adam?” he asked, taking hold of it.

  I nodded. Then I realized he couldn’t see that so I said, “Yes. I picked it up on the way here.”

  “I told him it was no good, but you know Adam. He brought it anyway,” Joey said with a snort. “Don’t worry, I already explained how you only pay for the ones you want.”

  My mouth flapped a couple of times while my face turned red. I was madder than I’d been when Joey threw my shoes in the water. Then Theo spoke up, and what he said kind of calmed me down.

  “Well, I certainly want this one.” His voice quivered in excitement as his hands ran up and down the branch. “It’s a beauty.”

  Joey’s face was something to see. I wished I could have got a picture of it to show him later.

  Theo sat himself back into his chair and held that piece of wood. He got quiet for a minute, in a way that made me and Joey quiet too. Theo stroked the wood gently and his fingers kind of vibrated on it, like it was too cold to touch.

  “This is a wonderful, wonderful piece of driftwood,” he said after a moment. “Would you boys like to know where it came from?”

  “Where it came from?” I echoed. “How can you tell that?”

  “I can tell,” Theo said simply. He got a look on his face like he was seeing something a long way off and when he began to speak, his voice seemed faraway too, and somehow strange. It was as if the words he spoke were coming from someone else. Someone from another time and place.

  This piece of driftwood is from a lychee tree. It has seen hundreds of seasons and weathered many storms. It has crossed wide oceans and passed endless miles of shore on its travels to this place.

  Life began for this tree several centuries ago, in a tiny village on the eastern coast of China. In this village lived a man named Suen Qiu.

  Suen Qiu was not a remarkable man. He lived a quiet life, working in his orchard, playing with his children, and talking to his wife and her parents, for they all shared one home. Suen Qiu ate when he was hungry and slept when he was tired. He found pleasure in simple things, such as listening to his wife sing of the Jasmine flower, or eating a steaming bowl of geng.

  In the village where Suen Qiu and his family lived, almost everyone made their living in the same way—as lychee farmers. Everywhere you looked, your eyes would find row upon row of lychee trees in the great orchards that surrounded the village.

  Perhaps you have never seen this kind of fruit. Let me tell you a little bit about it. The lychee tree grows about as tall as an apple tree. Its long, pointed leaves are the beautiful colour of a fine emerald. The lychee fruit has an outer shell, usually a shade of red, and while it is about the size of a small plum it looks more like a raspberry. Once you peel off the red outer layer, there is a delicious white globe inside with a seed buried right in the centre.

  The people of Suen Qiu’s village worked very hard caring for their lychee groves, planting and pruning and protecting. In the fall they would harvest the lychees and sell them to a middleman who then took the fruit to cities and sold it to merchants. Year after year, everything went along just as it should. And then came the summer of the great crop failure.

  The first sign of trouble came when it was time for the lychee trees to bloom. Some trees put out breathtaking blooms, and people love them for their beauty. This is not true of the lychee tree. Few people would find its blossoms pretty. To the lychee farmer’s eyes, however, they are a beautiful sight, for they mean that the lychee will soon follow.

  In the year of the great crop failure, this did not happen. The blossoms seemed to be forming, but then they shrivelled and died away. The village was soon abuzz with the sound of people discussing the matter. What could have happened? Was it possible the trees would make another attempt at blooming?

  They watched and waited, Suen Qiu among them. Nothing happened. The trees did not bloom again, although they looked healthy in all other ways. Fear crept over the villagers. What would happen to them? How would they provide for their families in the coming year if they did not have any lychees to sell to the middleman at harvest time? They worried and fretted but this did not make any difference to their circumstances.

  Suen Qiu looked at his family and his heart was heavy. His wife no longer smiled or sang the song of the Jasmine flower as she went about her work. Her lips were pressed closed so the song could not get out. Suen Qiu’s mother-in-law and father in-law looked at him with anger, as though he had somehow brought this misfortune to them. Only his children were unchanged. They played and studied and did their chores as always because they trusted that their father would take care of them. Suen Qiu felt this was the greatest burden of all for he could see that he would soon fail even in his children’s eyes.

  One day, Suen Qiu walked through his orchard, asking himself questions. What can I do? What will become of my family? But these were not questions he could answer and so there was great unrest in his mind.

  And then, near the end of one row, Suen Qiu made a discovery. On the far side of one of his lychee trees was a single blossom. This was unusual as the lychee always blossoms in clusters.

  In a rush of anger, Suen Qiu’s hand reached toward it. What value was a single lychee blossom? No fruit would grow without both the male and female flower, each doing their part. And even if it was somehow pollinated, what good would it be? One lychee from an entire grove! It was as if the lone flower had grown there just to mock him. Suen Qiu would tear this blossom from the tree and fling it to the ground.

  But before he could carry out this plan, Suen Qiu stopped. He asked himself why he should punish this flower, which was a living thing. It had not done anything to harm him. And so he left it and continued on his walk.

  Many pressing matters occupied Suen Qiu’s mind and it was several days before he thought of the blossom again. He decided to check on it, even though he felt sure that it would be gone.

  But it was not gone. In fact, the flower had given way to a tiny lychee, young and green. Suen Qiu stood there looking at it for some time. He did not know if it made him feel better or worse. When he returned to his home, he did not mention the lychee to anyone.

  As the days passed, Suen Qiu listened carefully to the talk in the village. He wondered if any of the other farmers might have made similar discoveries but it soon became clear he was the only one. Even so, he told no one of his lychee.

  The next week, Suen Qiu went back to see how the lychee was doing. He was surprised to see that it had grown to the size of his fist. This was very strange—an impossible thing. It seemed that someone must be playing a trick on him. Suen Qiu examined the lychee carefully from all sides until he was satisfied that it was real.

  From that day on, Suen Qiu visited the lychee faithfully. He spent hours sitting at the base of the tree, watching and wondering. It was his hope that he could come to understand what was happening, for the lychee was growing at an astonishing rate. Sometimes it seemed that it had almost doubled in size overnight. Suen Qiu felt a new hope stir in him, and yet that hope also made him afraid. Still, he told no one.

  But Suen Qiu’s wife had noticed that something was different about her husband. One afternoon she watched him go into the orchard and she decided to follow him. When she reached the tree and saw the lychee, which was now larger than a watermelon, she clapped her hand over her mouth and sank to her knees. She asked her husband what this meant. He could not tell her.

  The next day, two more were added to those who knew of the secret lychee when Suen Qiu’s wife told her parents. They hurried to the tree to see with their own eyes, for their daughter’s words had not convinced them.

  Each day that passed, the lychee continued to grow. It grew so large that the tree bent under its weight. Suen Qiu and his fat
her-in-law built a wooden brace to help support its weight. As they worked, the older man asked Suen Qiu what he meant to do with the lychee.

  “I have given this much thought,” Suen Qiu answered. “When the lychee is ripe I hope to sell it for a great price—enough money to divide among all the villagers.”

  “That is a good plan,” said the old man. “There is even a small chance that you will have enough money to care for your own family if you do this. My only worry is that some of the villagers will feel you have insulted them. Not everyone takes kindly to a handout.”

  Suen Qiu had not thought of that. He did not want the villagers to think he was proud, or that he viewed himself as some kind of hero. It was strange to think that he would be judged for helping others but he did not believe he had a choice. Surely it was the right thing to do.

  When the lychee started to turn red and its prickly bumps began to grow smooth, Suen Qiu’s father-in-law asked him once again what he meant to do. He smiled when Suen Qiu told him his plan was unchanged and that he still meant to share whatever money the lychee brought with everyone in the village.

  “That is because you have a good heart,” said the older man. He nodded and appeared to be thinking hard. “And yet, I wonder—”

  “What?” asked Suen Qiu. “What do you wonder?”

  “I cannot help but think that your actions will insult the Fates that brought this good fortune to you. It would be very wrong to defy fate when it is clear you have been chosen. Perhaps you are meant to use this lychee to gain a position of power so that you can help many, rather than just these few villagers.”

  Suen Qiu had not thought of this possibility. He no longer knew what he should do. His thoughts raced in a terrible circle and he knew no peace. They stole his sleep and created great turmoil in his mind.

  Each day, as he walked in the orchard and stood by the lychee, Suen Qiu hoped for a sign. If only there was some way to know for certain what he should do, he would gladly do that thing.

  The days passed by, one by one, as Suen Qiu struggled with his thoughts. And then, one morning when he went to the tree, a terrible sight met his eyes. The lychee, which had been fully ripe for several days, had broken the wooden brace. The branch that held it was torn from the tree and the great fruit lay on the ground, split wide open. Worst of all, small animals and bugs had found it and feasted on it all through the night. There was nothing left that could be salvaged, nothing of any value.