Dank Farrik Drabble #39
I know, it’s been forever. I have so many prompts to catch up on! Taking the opportunity of being on holidays to start the (very long) list, I promise I’ll soon be back to weekly updates. Here is Shade/Cheerful. Enjoy!
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His dad was going to be mad.
Din had been supposed to tag along as he checked how the grape picking at the vineyard was going. The little boy both loved and hated that time of year – loved it because the whole farm was buzzing with energy, excitement rising each morning and never dropping until the work was done late at night. But he hated it for the same reason – there was no longer any place to hide, no quiet spot to look at the sky and pretend the whole world belonged to him.
His father’s stress would also be palpable – had he chosen the right moment to harvest? Was the sugar level high enough in the grapes? Would the wine turn out good? Din’s mother was smart enough to linger in town and spend extra time at the library to study during those days. She’d always ask him if he wanted to come along, but the boy took after his father – he’d rather be outside, even if it meant running far and hard to escape the pounding heat and the loud voices of the farmhands as they toiled.
Din looked up from the shady spot he’d found under an old oak. He counted the ships in the sky – a cruiser, then two supply cargos. Merchants, traders. Aq Vetina was popular and well known for its rich soils and ripe fruits. He knew his father’s wine had travelled to the furthest reaches of the galaxy. Din hoped that one day he’d also board one of those ships, and travel just as far.
The boy sighed and raised his hand, small fingers tracing the journey of a fancy starfighter he wished he knew the name of. His skin was tan and dirty and he could already hear his mother’s remonstrances as she’d ineffectively try to wash the muck away in the bath this evening.
“My feral child,” she’d say, with fondness in her voice, as she tickled his sides.
Din closed his eyes and enjoyed the stillness in the air. The smell of the earth under the hot sun. His dad had said he could take part in the crushing this year. And he could already picture himself stomping the grapes with his bare feet. His clothes turning a deep, dark red. Taking part in the celebrations afterwards. And then one day, the farm would be his. And he’d be the one who’d get to decide when the harvest should start. The responsibility hung heavy on his shoulders already, and Din hoped he’d have travelled by then. Or gone to university like his mother. There was just so much to do. So much to discover. So much to learn.
A shadow fell on him suddenly and Din opened his eyes.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” his father admonished. Din stood up, sheepish. “Wherever I go, you go,” the man added as they started walking back to the vineyard, but his serious tone was offset by the small smile on his face, the one that made a dip appear in his right cheek, and Din felt his love wash over him like a warm embrace.
