Let's Do Something Cool

John Smith was asleep in his bed. He dreamed of confusing and mundane things, like his father yelling at the
cows because they produced corn meal instead of milk. He didn't notice his mother rummaging through his chests. A single candle lit the room and her face. John's room was a tent made out of burlap and salvaged bits of tarp.His floor was the dry, red sand that carpeted the world to the horizon. His mom laid a piece of cloth on the sand and put moccasins, three water skins, a bowie knife and twenty foot of good hemp rope in the center of the  cloth. She grabbed each corner, folded them on top of the pile and tied it tight. She slowed down for the first time since entering the room and stared at her son. The candle light turned his dark skin a mellow orange. She loved his large, proud nose and baby-fat cheeks. The rest of him held no ounce of fat. Life in The Barrens didn't allow for the excesses that build pudge on top of hips. The Barrens built its people with the bare necessities: bone, sinew, muscle, tangly hair. She leaned in close and smelled the Earth on him, the dirt and sand worked its way into his body like blood. She leaned in closer and put her lips on his cheek, beneath his eye. She let the kiss linger, not a quick peck. Her lips rested until he stirred. He opened his eyes and he wasn't scared to find someone so close to him. He was young enough to still trust unquestioningly, and he knew no fear in his life. He knew boredom, and hunger. Above all else, he knew familial love. He knew the burning rage and anger at whatever assaulted those he loved. So when he opened his eyes he was glad before he was confused to see his mother.

"John, get up," his mom said. John saw his mother was not alright, that something weighed on her. He asked her what the matter was, she told him again to wake up. He hesitated before he pushed back his only blanket and sat up. It wasn't uncomfortable for him to be naked in front of his mother. He hadn't started the awkward process of adolescent sexuality. She handed him his leggings and told him to put them on. He did. 

"Where is father?" John asked. 

"He doesn't have time to say goodbye to you. You are leaving, and you have to leave now." John, sleep groggy, cocked his head like a dog. Before he could vocalize any questions, she continued. "You need to leave John. It's not safe for you here and I need you to leave. I'm sorry. I wrote you a letter. Read it when you're three days south and get to the Orion Canyon. I'll walk you as far as the spring and we can talk. Get up now. Walk quietly, don't say a word. Follow, yeah?" John nodded and felt confused tears hiding behind his eyes. He stood up and curled his body onto his toes in a feline stretch. His mother noticed how he was closer to adulthood than her mental image of him was. His body was as tall as it would ever be, and he was starting to shed the comical proportions of boys his age.