thease are the first few pages of a book im currently writing please leave lots and lots and lots of comments i want to know what people think
THE BALLAD OF
HART GRAVES
PART ONE
THE HEAT
AND THE HEART
Chapter one
Hart stood in a field of wheat. Wheat which was pale yellow white and bright and almost an element of air and warmed by the sun which was not distant and yellow it was close and was orange and red it was glowed in the sky not shining and warmed the wheat and Hart. Hart took a deep breath and looked off in the distance along the horizon where the wheat kept going on with no sign of stoping till it vanished from sight into a petrol fuel haze of heat it was a severe heat that pressed all around him hugging him licking at his flesh making beads of sweat form on his fore head and on his neck he could feel the drops of warm sweat roll down his back and get lost in to the fabric of his shirt
there was no breeze of which to speak that could have cool him no wind to move his hair at all it was still there in the wheat there was no movement at all in the air the wheat was still each and every stalk stood motionlessly waiting. Hart held out his hands and brushed the top of the wheat his fingers danced over the wheat and the small bristles tickled his palms it was relaxing and he breathed deep and with every deep breathe he took hot air filled his lungs and relaxed him a tiny bit more
It was quiet in the wheat the only sound he could hear was the humming noise that heat makes and the distant ticking over of a sprinkler, which was not insight
It was beautiful where Hart stood the sky was shades of orange pink and red as the fiery sun sank slowly over a horizon of wheat that seemed so close yet so faraway
Then quite suddenly from across the field of wheat in a place he couldn’t see he herd someone call his name it sounded like an echo in reverse it started softly and got louder he turned to look again but the field that stretched far beyond he could see was empty he heard it again louder this time and more clearly it was a gentle voice and a strong voice then hart felt someone’s hand on his shoulder
Hart sat bolt up right at his desk banging his knees on the underside his school uniform was sticking to his back from the sweat he felt a little groggy and it took him a second to realise where he was he remembered most of the dream he recalled the wheat and the sun and the air and how it was peaceful
Mr Townsend his teacher was crouched in front of him his sparkling blue eyes examining Harts face he looked in to Harts eyes especially hart could tell he was thinking making notes about him but Hart could tell but he could not tell what they were or even if they were good or bad
“I’m leaving now, you have to leave too,” he said his voice was gentle and nice
of all the teachers at his school Mr Townsend was the nicest teacher hart had come across Mr Townsend let his students learn at there own pace instead of forcing them to learn things they weren’t ready for Mr Townsend was a fair man and a kind man and Hart didn’t know one person that thought otherwise
“Its three?” asked Hart “did I fall asleep?”
“At about one thirty I didn’t know my classes were that boring,” said Mr Townsend he had a wide bright smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye
“Sorry sir I had a late night last night and I don’t sleep very well anyways and I had a busy day and it is Friday,” said Hart hoping to explain his behaviour
“If I were angry Hart I would have woken you besides you know everything we covered today” said Mr Townsend he taught English and history and Hart was well schooled in both because he had Mr Townsend for both
It made Harts week a little more bearable to have a cool teacher like that especially on Fridays when Hart had him in lessons right after the first break in the morning for history and right before home time in the afternoon for English
“what time is it?” asked Hart looking out the window the sun was low a large part of it had sunk below the horizon he would have to walk home and that would be no short trip it would be pitch dark before he got there
“Twenty to six” said Mr Townsend checking his watch
Hart let out a long groan then started packing away the things he had gotten out to use during the lesson
“What’s wrong?” asked Mr Townsend as he watched hart hurriedly pack his school bag
“I have to walk home I live out on the far end of Cavendish road” said Hart
“Ouch” said Mr Townsend “I live on Huber street and I thought I lived a long way out If you want I can drop you home”
“That’s ok sir I’ll walk,” said hart
“Are you sure it’s not problem” said Mr Townsend
Hart looked out the window there was no breeze it was still and sticky and he did not relish having to walk home
“Ok but you can just drop me at your house I’ll walk from there I don’t want you to have to go out of your way” said Hart
“suit your self” said Mr Townsend and he pointed at the door there was a cleaning lady waiting she didn’t look impressed Hart got up and walked with mr townsend out of the class room
Mr townsend was tall very tall Hart was only just six foot tall and mr townsend towered over him mr townsend neared six foot six in height and his was solidly built too it was muscle he could have given the P.E teachers a run for there money if he had wanted to he had short cut dark blond hair and he drove a very stylish Lexus that was fully loaded which Hart felt bad about sitting in the seats were suede and he was all sweaty so as he lowered him self in the car he sat with his back arched so only his shoulder blades touched the seat mr townsend folded him self in to the car he seemed entirely to long to fit in to the car but he managed it and looked quite comfortable sitting there
Before he pulled out of the parking lot his pressed a button, the roof folded itself away in the back, and he drove off as they passed out of the gates of the school Mr Townsend turned and look at Hart and smiled
“I’m Archer,” he said and he held out his hand
“Pardon” asked Hart
“We’re not in school now you can call me Archer,” said Mr Townsend/Archer
“Ok” said Hart and he took his hand and shook it
They drove off the heat had driven everyone in doors so the roads were clear it was still a long way and half way there Archer started to talk
“You live such a long way out and you walk home?”
“Its exercise it takes me a good hour and a half to get home”
“Even in the heat?”
“Longer in the heat it’s fine tho” said hart “I guess well I mean my folks are real busy all the time so it’s walking or nothing”
“Oh” said Archer he was thinking hard “are you going to be in very much trouble that you’re this late home?”
“Nah truth be told they won’t notice I’m gone unless I miss Monday morning breakfast”
“Really?”
“Yeah mum and dad have a sort of open door policy my brothers and sisters and I are free to come and go as we please we can also bring people home for as long as there’s no boy/girl sleeping arrangements or boy/boy in my Brother Eden’s case”
“That’s very liberal of them”
“yeah there great” said hart with a sigh as the words came out he realised just how much sarcasm he had heaped in them he smiled and changed the subject
“So you live on Huber Street I thought that was all farms”
“It is all farms I live in one of the farm houses we rent our farm land off to our neighbours”
“Oh wow,” said Hart it was a brilliant idea
“yes I have wheat growing on one side and potatoes, strawberries and corn on the other side its very quiet at my house wheat and corn and potatoes don’t really need a lot of tending too” Archer chuckled “I asked the farmers for quiet crops”
Hart wondered how far he could go what he could ask he couldn’t think of anything to ask that was light and congenial the only questions he could think of were invasive Archer turned his head and smiled at him then looked at the road Hart was usually good at reading people but Archer was a complete mystery an open book written in a language Hart couldn’t read
With in five minuets Mr Townsend pulled the car up out side an old style house it reminded Hart of something iconic something classic but he could not make up his mind as to what
The house was two stories and white, there was a peeling white picket fence, it had a big veranda and all the doors and windows stood open there was funky music coming form the house that made Harts foot tap
the front yard was quite big and made Hart think there would be no back yard it was a thin parcel of land with the side fences only three or four meters from the edge of the veranda
In the front garden there was a large tree with a swing and large brick barbeque facing each other there was an old stump with an axe sticking out of it and gardens beds around the edges of the slightly raised veranda it was a beautiful place and subtly iconic
“Wow” said Hart “very nice house”
“Thanks” said Archer he sat still for a second and looked at Hart “you hungry?”
“I’m seventeen,” said Hart Archer looked at him funnily “I’m always hungry I could eat sheet metal”
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” asked Archer he smiled again
“Umm” Hart paused thinking would it be incredibly uncomfortable to eat at his teacher’s house and what would they talk about Hart looked at Archer whose smile warmer “ok” said Hart not wanting to offend Archer
“I mean as long as your folks are ok with it?” said Archer noticing Harts uneasiness
“it’s fine there fine with it if there worried they’ll call me” said Hart more confidently Archer nodded and got out of the car surprisingly gracefully the house was quite isolated the nearest house was up the street five maybe even six hundred meters the isolation in the middle of the rural suburbia was some how refreshing the other farm houses usually sat in pairs with neighbours across the road this house sat by itself
Farmlands them selves weren’t that unusual for the area they lived in there suburb was a pleasant mix of suburban and rural and all just a hour and an a half train ride from the city Archer walked through the gate and up the path first followed by Hart
“Families home” called a woman’s voice from inside the house as Archer reached the front steps
My life is currently hijacked by vampires and a waitress by the name of sookie stackhouse Charlane Harris has me by the balls and she’s not letting go by that I mean the southern vampire mysteries (which was made in to the tv show True blood) I’m loving them although be warned of two things 1 the books are Very different to the show and 2 the books are like heroin read on and your hooked
In twilight there’s a day at the beach a baseball game and a trip to Italy
my favourite living royal (from England) is HRH Prince Henry of Wales
It’s just another one of those things that are amazing and special about me
The next bible was an odd one it’s called Schott’s original miscellany it’s a book of lists and unusual facts I love it and reference it all the time
Posts
