12 Kilos
"The lightning rod had already been struck twice before Garrett was born, “Some folk think it’s a sign from the gods, I think its something to do with the PH balance in the soil that close to the origin containers. The earth there has been absorbing leached metals from those old shipping containers for decades now, maybe that old cedar soaked up more of the metal than the rest and for longer, who knows.”
"Garrett’s aunt had that much to say about the phenomenon and not much else. Others in the village considered the tree cursed and still others assumed it held prophetic properties. Some village women contemplating motherhood would go and sleep under the tree for a night. Garrett’s father and a few of the village elders contemplated cutting the rest of the thing down or putting up a fence around it to keep everyone away."
"The third lightning strike hit the old tree when Garrett was still small, so small that he remembered being carried halfway home by his aunt before she grew tired and made him walk the rest of the way with her over to the charred remains."
"The tree once likely stood near a hundred feet tall, the first two lightning strikes had broken it and left it badly charred, but still growing if not sideways from there on out. The third lightning strike, shattered the thing. The tree’s trunk was only ten feet tall or so, the rest had burst and caught fire and fallen away leaving only a half charred, still ember sheathed mast of dry tree trunk behind. The remains of the tree looked like the end of the cheroots Garrett’s father occasionally chomped on when traders came in the spring and summer. A ragged edge of half burned out embers surrounded about foot feet of charred, browned stump.
Garrett’s aunt motioned for him to stay there as she ventured toward the origin containers and the brackish waters beyond. She came back with a few clumps of wet mud and a small twig with a patch of greenery near the top."
“Common folk see change as death, Garrett. Anything that can’t be readily explained away is considered change by that sort. Anything that can’t be easily explained requires a sense of either religious awe or condemning judgment.”
"His aunt turned away to the stump and began slathering it with piles of wet earth before affixing the green twig atop the pile. “When you see change for what it is, and make something out of that, you have two choices, either you can be seen as a prophet or a pariah.”
"After fixing the sapling into the wet earth atop the newly dead tree Garrett’s aunt stepped back and cleaned her hands using her apron before taking his small hand in hers. “And if you make things better, for most people, you always, always eventually be seen as a pariah for all your hard work.”
