The Seed

The Seed

A Short Story By Trenedee Watson

Find me, in the ruins of an ancient kingdom

Find me, between the rubble and the rock

With Obsidian at my feet

Find me, covered in ashes next to Stromboli

With the Earth's core oozing from my crown

Witness a goddess sit on her chair

With liquid fire for hair

Find me, at the bottom of the ocean

Lying still on the ground

Feel the pressure between my skin

Let my water touch every part within

Find me, playing in the clouds

With wind so strong the only sense left is touch

Let the wind move you until you are so still

You look as soft as the clouds

Find me, in the caves of Tulum

Come in alone

And sit beside me

I’ll tell you your destiny

Find me, when you look at the moon

See my art in the craters

Find me in your attention to detail or find me in your abstract mind

Find me, in the things you see or don’t see

Find me, at the beginning or end of time.

I wrote hundreds of poems before writing a poem like this. I’ve attempted to be someone I’m not. Someone people would find more appealing. I’ve attempted to live my life as if it did not matter or have meaning. Now, it may be hard to grasp the story through the eyes of this poet. For my poetry accepts all and rejects none. My poetry is multi-dimensional and set with intentions. See, you may be reading these words with visuals or sounds. Imagine my voice is reading the story out loud. Let the words come alive like it’s their first creation. Like it's the first stroke of when pen meets paper. Grasp the story through the intention behind the words. For what started with a little black notebook and turned out to be a miracle. Was a great beginning and a great end. Let these words personify. For what started with a little black book was the beginning of my newfound success. As I write this from my new world, far from the unpleasantries of my past. I’ll first explain how I, Amy Hacle, unexpectedly obtain $20,000.

It was the summer of 2019. I was working at Roca’s Bookstore on College St. After work, I would stay to be a part of this science fiction writers club. In all honesty, it wasn’t my passion; I am a poet, after all. Although, most of the members suffered from some sort of allergy or braces. There was one member that I couldn’t help but obsess over. Anyone with functioning eyes shouldn’t be able to resist Dimitri. Like his name, he had the irresistibility of a Greek God with more melanin. I could stare at his defined jawline all day.

One of the members, Micheal, approached me after the meeting and asked me if I would mind dropping this week’s donation to Bookshare. Bookshare was a foundation that libraries and bookstores supported for community engagement. I had never volunteered to do the Bookshare drop-off before. Mainly because I’d always have to rush home to take care of my little brother, Junior. But this time I accepted the offer as I was mesmerized by Dimitri putting back the chairs we used for the meeting. I could write a million sonnets about his strong, beautiful arms. Micheal ushered me to the door and gave me the books. Then I walked down the street to catch the streetcar towards Front St.

He asked me to dance to our favourite record,

The living room is electrified

And the atmosphere is more than just lust

As magic forms between us,

We look into each other’s eyes as if the moment would never past

And with my eyes

I simply say,

To know you,

To hold you

Is unforgettable

Simply unquestionable…

Before I could finish the poem, I had arrived at my stop. I walked until I found the building, 369 Front St. To my surprise, the building was old and dingy. I couldn’t appreciate the beauty from within. I opened the first door and rang the second buzzer. I waited before attempting to open the door. I grabbed onto the silver doorknob and realized it hadn't been locked. I walked in and immediately turned towards the light. I remember walking through the hall with great skepticism. I soon turned a corner, and to my surprise, I found a foyer with books scattered all around the wood floors. The books were in piles that stacked taller than me. I remember my first thought was, how dangerous. At that moment, I didn’t realize the portal I had entered. As I focused my attention on the environment that surrounded me, I noticed that there were four ladies behind a wooden desk in each corner of the foyer. As I turned towards the right, I noticed a lady in a corner closest to the door; however, it didn’t seem like she wanted to be there. Unlike typical receptionists, or assistants, or things of the sort, she had her feet up on the desk and was pretending to read a book. As I peered over my shoulder to the two ladies in the back of the foyer, I noticed each lady was sorting books in their corner and they looked equally antsy. The lady in the left corner closest to the door had a calm and serene vibe. She was at her desk with a pleasant look on her face. Now, as I reflect, the expression on her face made it seem as though she knew I was coming. I walked towards her and told her, I was here to drop off the Roca’s bookstore donation. She smiled and pointed me in the direction of one of the angsty ladies. As I walked towards the lady, I turned my attention upward, and I noticed in the middle of the roof there was a beautiful stained glass. It was a captivating picture of flowers and trees. I sighed out a big ‘wow’ as the calm lady laughed. I watched all the ladies, wondering, what is it they do all day and what is this place? I asked the calm lady my questions as if I was a detective. My skepticism had manifested its own form. She was nice the whole time we spoke and answered my every question. She told me the Bookshare is for dreamers and asked me if I was one.

At that moment, all my life’s memories started to flood my mind. So many, all at once, left me feeling weary. The calm lady could tell I was uncomfortable by her question and told me to pick out a book for myself. I began to search through the piles of books, a mix of genres and languages. I was applauded by the disorganization of it all. I thought I’d leave with nothing until I pick up this little book. With the book in my hand and not even getting a chance to open it. One of the angsty ladies told me I must leave immediately and rushed me to the door. I was quite confused but once I was outside I realized how much time had passed. I needed to get home.

I luckily ran and caught the streetcar right away. But this luck was short-lived as the streetcar was crowded with people. I put the little black book in my hidden jacket pocket and focused on getting home. After a long 45 minutes, I opened the door to my house in an attempt to be quiet. I could hear the footsteps of my mother as she walked towards me and began yelling. She continued yelling and repeating her list of demands of things I must do for the night. She continued, her words filled up with rage until the door slammed behind her as she headed to work. I laid on the couch with a defeated attitude and sighed. I couldn’t help but think of the calm lady’s question. Am I a dreamer? I didn’t know. I knew I did not want to live the life I was living.

That night, I made sure to get my brother fed and put him in bed on time. I forgot all about the little book. As I went towards my stuff in the living room, my cat, Princess was doing what she always does when she’s in a mood -- knocking over things around the house. I decided to leave her downstairs and tried to read the little book in peace. I sat on my bed and reached for the hidden pocket in my jacket. I held the little book in my hand. It was matte black and leather and featured a gold latch. It was textured on the front as if it were some kind of braille. The back had a description of the book which read,

“The Seed, an extraordinary tale of adventure, mystery and tragedy. As The Seed is planted, watch it begins to grow. It begins in the meadow of dreams and ends in our wildest fantasy. Behold the story of The Seed a tale like no other. A nonfiction story, to say the least. Deep-rooted in the truth, The Seed is a story about birth and rebirth. Its journey and its curse. Beware who dares misuse The Seed, for unfertile soil will not allow new growth.”

As I unlatched the book, I opened up yet another disappointment. The papers were blank. It was a little black notebook. I would have been more grateful if I had not already worked at a bookstore that gave me a notebook for free which was a lot more unique and a lot more my style. This was just another example of how my life is a series of letdowns. This one event had become a straw that broke the camel’s back and I grew thinner and thinner with patience as the days passed.

With each passing day, I began to realize I had nothing to dream about. Eventually, my life took a turn for the dark. After a week had passed since I got the little black book, I found my mom drinking again on the couch. This time, she was enraged and manic. She yelled and screamed. She complained about the $20,000 debut we were in for the house. She was on a binger for days. Jr. was scared and began sleeping with me at night. My mom didn’t leave the couch unless she was drunk or looking for more booze. Jr. had an idea and asked me if he could use some paper in my room. He decided to make a paper cheque for $20,000 with his crayons. Jr. thought the little black notebook would be a perfect size for his cheque. I was too busy with mom to notice Junior’s activities. After he finished, he yelled with such excitement, “I did it, I did it!” I went to see what he had done. I smiled and kissed him on the forehead. I told him, “Thank you,” then I took it away from him. He cried and wanted to give the cheque to mom himself. I declined his request and explained that mom was not in the state to accept his gift. He continued to cry until he woke up his mother. Her yelling quickly made him silent. I put the cheque in the trash and cried myself to sleep that night.

The next morning, the princess was walking around my room knocking stuff over with her tail. She meows loudly, which suggested she was hungry. Before I got up to see the mess she created, she knocked down my garbage can which made an unusual thud. I looked at the floor in complete shock and awe. I dived into the floor and began rolling around. With all these $100 bills falling out of my garbage can. I rubbed them against my skin, trying to see if it was real. Was I finally dreaming? I woke up Jr, shaken him out of my bed. He asked, where did all the money come from? I pinched him and he pinched me back. Our faces couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with shock. We slowly cracked smiles before full-on dancing and throwing money in the air. It was a miracle. I had witnessed a miracle.