Apple Seed

Ok this story was inspired by the mountains by my home, I love it and promise to finish it later! It hasn't gotten to any of the action yet but it will, trust me....
Idea: There’s a girl living in th 20th century. Her mother has grown old and blind with lonliness. one day while walking through an orchard she meets a boy (nymph? fae?) who tries to persuade her to “step through the stone” and join him away from all of her worries. The girl who is deeply depressed pushes him away. before he parts he gifts her with a peculiar looking stone…(oh and sorry for the typos! i never got around to spell-checking everything... o__O )

(c) 5-27-07 QE3
Anna lost her footing on a small, grey, stone; etched and weathered from the water that had flowed across her family’s woods long ago. She tumbled into the river bed that, like the very fire that fueled her soul, had dried up long ago. She watered the ground with her tears, before picking up her skirts and running blindly into the woods yet again.
She slowed; found herself winding down the wide path to the orchard. A path that on sunny days, she and her father would travel. Sometimes making the long journey on foot, walking hand in hand towards the rising sun, tanning their shoulders and warming their faces. Often times, they would ride their horses to the orchard. Racing and jumping logs in the forest. Anna felt she could still see the hoof prints, longed for the voice of her father----the smell of the ocean and the saltiness of her tears mingled and she rushed to the orchard, to Grandfather.
Grandfather stood old and worn, his branches gnarled and torn as they were seemed to bend and reach for her as if pulling her into a hug as she approached. She sat at his base, burying her heavy head in her skinny arms. Anna could have sworn that the old tree’s heart was beating in harmony with her own. Their breath strained and shaky; from tears and old age. The Grandfather had been around for three generations. Her grandfather had planted it nearly a 100 years before, and from that single apple seed had spawned the entire orchard. Still, as old as the Grandfather was, his apples were still the healthiest, most colorful in all the orchard. They were also the most special. Whether the tree was old and confused or whether he contained some kind of magic, they could be in the middle of a cold spell, a frosty winters night, and Anna would wake up to a new crop of apples, healthy and alive, the next morning.
As unpredictable as he was, the tree was one of the last things in her life that was steady. His apples, Gifts as Father had called them, never failed to turn up at one point or another. He was always close to home, and even closer to her heart. It wasn’t like he could just pick up his roots and walk out of her life like so many of the ones she loved had.
As an only child, her father had been her best friend growing up. He was young and handsome, with a kind voice, a hearty laugh, and a growing appetite for fun. Living in the canyons as they did, the family didn’t have many neighbors, which meant not many playmates her own age for Anna. But her father truly was a kid at heart and he was the best friend she had ever had. Until the summer she was nine, the two had been inseperable. They shared a bond so strong, to which noneother could come close to in compare. The two loved to go exploring in the woods, pretending he was Lewis or Clark, and she was the beautiful Poccahontas. They often spent long days at the beach or hiking to the top of the mountain. A secret ledge from which you could see the entire canyon and well out in the west to the ocean and beyond and in the east to a small town. Looking down they could see their small, humble house. They would sometimes carefully dangle their feet over the edge. “Just don’t fall,” her father would say, “If you do, as much as it breaks my heart I can’t catch you.” That was the one thing that irked her about her father, as close to her as he was, as much as she loved him, he was only human. And she felt a special singing in her, a calling for the unnatural and unexplainable. The two things her father was afraid of, and couldn’t give her.
The summer she was nine her father went looking for a new kind of adventure, he went to join the military, against Anna and her mother’s strained protests. He was a man of determination though, and they could not change him, hard as they tried. His leaving tore the family to shreds.

Anna’s mother and father had met when they were fifteen, and been madly in love from the start. They had both come from broken, unhappy families. Unwilling to be caged birds any longer, the young couple moved away from the town where their families had lived for nearly six generations and built a little house in the canyons. The house sat on William’s father’s land. Though in truth, Annas grandfather had not visited the land since planting the apple trees as a boy, 100 years ago. The house was finished the year Melinda turned 17. Built by William from the ground up, the house had two bedrooms, a kitchen, sitting room, and small parlor. For a while, only one of the bedrooms was used. Then, not a year after the couple finished their house, Melinda found she was with child. Nine months later, Anna was born. Melinda, who had been nearly as adventurous as her husband was, settled into a more conservative lifestyle with the birth of her daughter. She became a poet and a painter, teaching her daughter to enjoy the beauty and quiet of their woods. William on the other hand, sought adventure, and purposely made all the noise he could when tending their garden, or the orchard, or simply on a walk. While Melinda perfered to sit quietly, William loved to go traipsing through the woods, collecting frogs and snakes and causing havoc. When he decided he was tiring of the quiet life, he went to town looking for a new adventure.
Anna and her mother had been catching fireflys out back, and the porch was covered in them. Two or three in a little glass jar adorned the yard every foot or so, along the ground, and settled on tree branches. Anna ran to him, excited to show him her new friends. mother ran to, asking him where he had been and showing him the painting she was working on of Anna. He hugged them both, but it was a stiff hug because of the funny garments he was wearing. There was a long sleeved shirt and trousers as many would wear. The fabric though was stiff and strong, and the dark green jacket held fast to her father’s chest and arms. Along his shoulders were funny little pads, and from them dangles golden tassels. Along the front of his jacket had been sewn several large brass buttons. He held himself high and spoke importantly. Anna giggled at how grown up her father sounded. He ushered her and her mother to the porch. Anna sat obediently, fidgeting with a dandelion stem while he spoke with her mother. She stood just as stiffly as he, and stared hard into his eyes. His loud, important voice crescendoed to a whisper. His eyes seemed sad, though his whisper was strong. He talked for a minute, and Mother listenened. He paused. Apologized. Mother doubled back into her painting chair. He took her hand and talked a little more. He motioned to Anna to sit on his knee. He told her he was going to play a new game now. But this one she was not allowed to join. He was protecting her, he said. As this was a game no one should ever be forced to play. Anna laughed, at the thought of a game that was no fun to play. Her mother only cried. Anna was nine at the time and didn’t understand why her father was acting the way he was. He kept apologizing to Anna and her mother, but he said he felt he was doing what was best for the family. He cried a little too.
Later that night, Anna lay awake. She had released all the fireflys but one from their glass cocoons. The last of her new friends buzzed happily in his jar on Annas bedside table. It was late, the summertime sun had gone to sleep nearly three hours ago, but Anna was far from tired.
She could hear her parents fighting from the other room. She heard them make up, and heard them fight and cry again. Anna was confused. Was Mother upset that father had bought new clothes? It was true she often fashioned clothes for the family, but she never seemed to fancy the chore. Perhaps it was the money, had the clothes been expensive? Maybe she was embarrassed for Father, he did look rather ridiculous. Anna laughed to herself.
her mother cam and sat on the side of her bed. She stroked Anna’s hair and