The Harvesting (ON HOLD)

Chapter One

The car door closes, and his key is inserted in the hole, the engine coming to life. Maria stands next to the car, and Branden puts the window down.

"I'll miss you," she says, smiling at him.

"Me too. I'll call every day, alright?" He puts his hands on the wheel, smiling back at her.

"Okay. Drive safe, honey."

"I will. Love you!"

"Love you!" She says as he drives away from their home, waving at him. He sticks his hand out of the window, waving back. As he drives away from the home, he rolls the window up, the air becoming cold and dry. He looks at the map on his phone, which gives an estimate of an hour drive to Jonathan's home.

As he drives further down the road, he marvels at how quickly the layout can change from apartments and small businesses to vast expanses of green grass and small streams of water. Only a few homes mark the area, most of them large 2-story farmhouses with large barns beside them and animals all around. It was nice, he thought, to get away from the busy life he lived every day for a few weeks and breathe in the fresh country air.

The clouds turned gray, and thunder rumbled outside, promising rain to come. Just as the first few drops fell onto his car, he could see Jonathan's home in the distance, very similar to the few he passed on the way. He goes onto the mile-long driveway, his car bumping over the bits of gravel until he reaches the house and stops the car. The rain is starting to fall more heavily now, and Branden quickly rushes to the front porch, where a roof protects him from getting drenched in rain.

He knocks on the door a few times, before looking around to see Jonathan also rushing up another set of stairs that leads to the porch.

"Hey, Jonathan!" Branden says, turning to face him.

"Hey there! Wasn't expecting you to come this early," Jonathan replies, chuckling. "Well, let's go inside now, before the rain gets too crazy."

"Good idea," he responds, grinning.

As they walk inside, many pictures line the walls of the medium-sized hallway, mostly of what Branden assumes to be family and friends. "This is such a cool house! The pictures Maria showed me don't do it justice, honestly. How long have you lived here?"

"Since I was a baby. My parents and their parents have been living here through the generations and raising their families in it, and so did I. That picture right there-" he points to a framed black and white picture of a large family standing out in a large field, in front of a brand new looking barn, "Is of my grandpa and his wife and kids. That little boy right there is my pa. He passed away a few years back, may he rest in peace. I'm certain he's looking over me in the heavens."

"Sorry to hear that. I'm sure he is."

After they tour the rest of the home, Branden is settled into the guest room, where Jonathan's parents used to sleep. A large painting of a man with a long beard and blank face hangs above the bed, causing a chill to run over Branden's spine as he sees it. It's as if the man was looking deep into his soul, like it wasn't just a painting of a strange old man. He could already tell that this man had a story, that he'd had his heart broken and couldn't repair it. Maybe he had no children, and his parents were disappointed that he wouldn't continue the family tree. They would die in vain, no grandchildren to play with and shower with gifts. The man may have died before his parents did, and only they attended his funeral, and they too died soon after he did. They had no family or friends to attend, so no funeral was held. They were cremated and their ashes were laid around their home, their most valuable possession. The background of the painting was dull, a small section covered in dead trees and the rest a barren wasteland. Even the man seemed dead, like someone had propped his corpse up on a chair to paint his emotionless face.