Chapter 8

"Dang it!"

A farmer boy yelled across the forest as he watched the cardinal bird plummet from the high branches and land into a cluster of leaves. He ran over to it and held its limp corpse in his hands, pressing his small hands against the bird's feathery chets in desperation of a heartbeat, but to no avail. 

"What happened, if you got hurt again I'll have to tell your mother and that'll be a bad thing."

The boy's father said as he turned from a tree and walked towards the kneeling young boy, watching him hold the dead bird.

"I'm a murderer, papa, a murderer!" 

He yelled out, his voice clearly told the man that his son was distraught with his actions. The man only scoffed before kneeling down like the boy was and touching his shoulder.

"This may hurt, boy but...we shouldn't care about that bird." 

The father's voice came to a more serious tone as he leaned in closer, wrapping his large hands around the bird's frail body.

"How'd this little one get this way anyway?" 

The boy paused, before wiping away his tears and taking a big breath. He looked up at his father with remorseful eyes.

"I was playing with my slingshot and I accidentally hit the bird's nest. I thought it could fly but it had an injured wing."

He looked down at the ground, curling his hair with his finger before his father looked at him, a more serious expression on his face.

"We should bury this poor creature, just because it's a lesser being doesn't mean it shouldn't be held in some respect."

His father stood up before he started to walk into a clearing, the crickle of the dried leaves beneath his leather boots was clearly audible, but retracted in volume as he got farther away from the boy.

After a good 5 minutes, he returned carrying a small iron shovel with a rusted head, the gray metal of the scoop merged with the bronze, murky color of the rust. He then lowered it into the dirt with a loud clang, drilling it deeper to find the foundation beyond the thin layers of rock. 

Eventually his eyes widened and a small smirk played on his face as he lifted the shovel, causing a small cloud of dirt-rock dust to shoot up like a miniature hurricane. 

"There we go."

He self acknowledged before he dug the shovel deeper into the already created hole, the boy watched in awe as his father labored away to create the "memorial" for the dead cardinal, proud that the bird would receive a somewhat happy ending. 

"There we go."

He wiped the sweat from his brow before leaning the shovel against a nearby oak free, turning towards his son.

"May I have the bird, son?"

He asked, in a more gentle voice, the boy nodded before handing his father the animal, the bulky man pulled out a piece of cloth from one of the pouches on his sack, usually used to tend to open wounds before some sort of alleviating chemical could be applied, and wrapped it around the bird. He then gently lowered his hand into the hole with the wrapped up bird and layed it there gently, patting the soil around the hole as if it would create a permanent protection seal around the animal. 

Looking back at his shovel, he then dug it into the pile of dirt created from the digging, and started to heave it back into the hole, to cover up the animal. 

"All done."

His voice was now more raspy, as he arched until he heard a loud pop from some socket in his back, rewarding him for his hard work. 

"Your birds all done, youngin."

He let out a small chuckle as he watched the boy stand up and approach him, before wrapping his arms around him with a warm smile.

"Thank you, papa."

The man chuckled as he returned the gesture, whispering;

"No problem, just use that slingshot where you know no one or nothing will get hurt."

He answered, ruffling the boy's hair briefly before looking into the sunset, which turned the previously blue sky into a mixed hue of orange, pink and red, like a melted canvas of colors. 

"Sit with me."

He patted the soil next to where he sat, turning towards the sunset hoping his son would do the same. The boy followed the proposal, sitting next to his father while leaning his head against the man's mountain-like shoulders. 

"Now, let me tell you a little about life as a whole."

He said, his voice now softer than before, the rapsiness now having faded away.

"We are at the top of the totem pole, and everything else exists somewhere below us. But you shouldn't see superiority through raw strength or advancements as a way of looking down upon others, no one wants to be looked down upon."

The man paused, leaning back onto a large rock. 

"We only look down on the animals because they don't know about destiny, the thread that binds us all together, yet splits us apart."

"Destiny?"

The boy asked, leaning in closer as his expression whispered to his father than he was now as curious as a housecat. 

"Yes, destiny. Animals don't know about destiny and fate, because they are lesser beings with lower intelligence, every choice that one makes scalps a tiny mold into destiny, think of destiny like a rock, everything we do, every choice we make scalps that rock until we see the whole picture."

"Why are you telling me this?" 

The boy inquired, his father looked down at him with a smile. 

"Because that dead cardinal wasn't free, yet it was still so free at the same time."

The man chuckled as he stared into the sunlight with an illusory gaze, like he was reminiscing on something. The boy perked up, breaking the silence shortly after it began

"How do I know if I'm free or not?"

The man looked from the sunset and back towards his son one last time.

"Freedom isn't what you think it is, but that's a story for another time, now let's get some supper."