The Golden Apple

-a short story I rushed somewhat, so it's not perfect. But I thought I'd post it anyways. 

The Golden Apple

Candace padded her way over the cobblestones, hearing the sound of her shoes hitting the ground. The other children had already scattered in different directions, and she could hear them in the short distance. Ila's voice traveled over into Candace's ears.

“5...6...7...8...”

Candace whirled from the main street, and into a tiny alleyway that she had never explored before. It was dirty, with the filth climbing the bricks and rubbing off onto her hand that she was tracing along the wall. She hitched up her long skirts with her left. The alleyway seemed to be getting narrower and narrower, and she was now having to go sideways. She heard Ila's voice come to an abrupt stop.

“...29...30!”

Candace stopped running, and stifled her breathing with her hand as she lightly walked further into the alleyway. The children weren't supposed to be in the abandoned city, and if the adults knew they were there, they would immediately send Edgar to get them. Edgar was large and had a husky quality to him that immediately intimidated anyone around him. He had never raised a hand against them, but they all knew that he could. The children didn't much like Edgar, but they simply couldn't resist the temptation of the abandoned city. When they weren't paying much attention, Candace and the others would sneak off through the woods, coming out on the other side to the abandoned city. It had been deserted for at least a hundred years, but most of the buildings and roads still stood. They loved to play hide and seek, or go exploring. Candace could imagine what type of people lived there when she walked into a stone enclosure that used to be a home. The city was so large, that even after all the years they had been going to it, they still hadn't explored all of it.

Candace squeezed her way out of the end of the alleyway and stood amazed at what was before her. It was a courtyard. High brick walls surrounded her on all sides, and an open doorway where the door had long rotted away was the only open way onto it from all the buildings. But that wasn't what she was staring at.

A tree.

It stood in the middle of the enclosure; a magnificent weeping willow. A sudden gust of wind whirled down, and the leaves rustled like the curtains on a summer day when her mother left the window open. It looked like it had been standing forever. The trunk of it was as wide as a fat mans belly, and boils grew out of it here and there like warts. Candace stood enchanted by it until an unfamiliar cat passed right by her leg, and she started. It was black as sin, and stared at her like it was sizing her up before shrugging her off and making it's way towards the tree. Candace recovered herself, and immediately became annoyed.

“Well sorry if I'm not good enough for you, your cat-jesty.”

The cat didn't even look back.

“Fine! Just go on your way, you high-and-mighty, I know all you felines are the same,” Candace kicked a stone in frustration, but it bounced off the brick and hit her back in her shin. She hopped in pain and started to rub it. She wasn't generally offended by animals, but when she was by herself, she put on a new persona so she could entertain herself. She would be embarrassed if anyone heard her, though.

“His name is Bartholomew, you know,” said a girl's voice from nowhere.

Candace froze. She spun and looked around, but couldn't see anyone. The voice had come from the tree, she was sure of it. She peered up into the leaves and spotted a bit of fabric leading to someone's dress.

“Who are you?” she asked the strange girl. It wasn't anyone from the hide-and-seek game.

“I knew you would come here, and I thought you would ask that, but is it really something you should know?”

Candace was flabbergasted. Just who was this person? Wait a minute...

“You knew I would come here?” Candace walked closer to the tree so she could see the girl's face.

“Yes,” said the girl, not volunteering any information.

“How?” She saw a strand of a white, white hair like the plumage of a dove.

“The tree told me. There hasn't been anyone else around here for a long time. But the tree knows me, and decided to give me a little bit of the future. Trees can tell the past and the future, did you know? That's why they grow rings and stay in the same place their whole lives.”

“I don't get it.”

The girl laughed.

“She told me about that too,” she said. Candace walked around the trunk and finally spotted the girl's face. She was about her age, with long white hair that stretched past her feet if she was standing up. She was wearing a plain gray dress with an apron on the front. Her eyes were buried in a ginormous, old book that looked like it could fall apart at any moment. The girl noticed her eyes on her and looked down from her book.

“Hello,” the girl said.

Candace squinted up at her from all the dappling sunlight bursting it's way through the leaves.

“Who are you?” She asked for the second time.

“Sophie,” she said, “I'm Sophie. And you're Candace.”

Something brushed against her leg, and Candace started again, finding the black cat skimming her skirts. It looked up at her, and then sat on her feet. Sophie laughed.

“It looks like his cat-majesty has taken a liking you, what will you do?”

Candace slumped down and started stroking the animal behind the ears.

“Sophie, what are you doing in the abandoned city?” She asked the girl, peering up again through the leaves.

She was back with her eyes in her book.

“I take care of her,” she said.

“Her...as in the tree?”

“Yes.”

“But what about-”

“I think you better go now,” Sophie said, looking down at her, “the game is over and they're calling for you.”

“What?” Candace cast her head about, “But I don't hear anything!”

“That's because you're in here. You really want to leave now. Trust me.”

Candace stared at her. She made a split decision and stood up.

“Okay, fine. Will I see you again?”

“Until next time,” said Sophie with her nose in her book.

“Until next time,” echoed Candace, peering up at her, “alright, okay then, bye!” She whirled around and ran to the alleyway entrance, then turned back and waved. Sophie didn't even notice. She stood there for a moment more, stuffing the scenery into her mind, than raced down into the depths of the alleyway, the path becoming wider and wider the farther she went.

After Candace had left, Sophie shut her book and climbed down the tree. The cat pawed it's way up to her.

“Bartholomew,” she said softly, stroking the cat as it purred, “what now?”

Candace stared out the window of the small cottage she called her home. It had started to rain­ slightly, and woods outside were dark in the twilight. It was an early spring rain, cold as winter, yet nourishing to the world. The space inside was cramped and there was a leak in the roof that dripped, dripped, dripped, interfering with her thoughts. After she had emerged from the alleyway, she found the others shouting her name in a sort-of panic. Edgar had sniffed them out, but they couldn't leave because she was missing. They had easily been searching for her over fifteen minutes.

“Where have you been?!” Ila had asked, when they finally found her. Candace had told her that she didn't hear them. All of the other kids had looked at her weird. She had always heard them before. Ila was about to ask more questions, but Edgar interfered. He towered over her, and Candace reflexively shrank back from him. A giant grizzly glaring at her.

“Little girl, I've had to come and get you almost fifty times. You're one of the oldest in this group, you would think you would have learned to keep your ass out of this place by now. But no, I see you're as mentally shrunk as the rest of them. Keep out of this place. It's for your own good.” The other kids were several feet away. Edgar spit out some of his tobacco on the beautiful, ancient cobblestones, making a mess that Candace couldn't help but stare at in indignation. He herded them out of the abandoned city in silence.

 She hated him, she really did. But there was something that she had noticed while coming out of the alleyway that filled her head more than her resentment. When she had first came to the abandoned city, the sun was high in the sky. The whole exchange with the strange girl, and everything else had felt like it had only taken a few minutes. But when she took her first step out of the alleyway, it was already dusk, the red and orange filling up the broken streets.

Bang!

Candace was startled out of her thoughts by the ear-splitting noise in the kitchen. Her mother had dropped a heavy iron pan on the wooden floor. She was sprawled spread-eagle with her arms on the counter tops, her face as white as paste, staring at the cooking appliance. Candace peered over, and spotted something furry emerging from the side of it. It had peanut fur, velvet ears, and large black bead eyes.

A mouse.

“Candace!” her mother screamed, “do something!” She was now attempting to climb onto the counters, her body comically horizontal as she tried to keep her feet off the ground. Candace stared at her for a moment, then flew over to the door and opened it. She snatched up the garbage tin near the entrance, dumped all of its contents onto the red embroidered rug in a single movement, and ran towards the mouse that was still in the middle of the kitchen flooring. It seemed to be dazed by its fall, but her heavy footsteps awakened its sense of danger. It scurried over the wood, its nails clicking audibly, as it headed for the cubby hole in the side of the wall.

“No!” yelled Candace, attempting to turn at full tilt, to catch it before it disappeared. The result was that she slipped on the smooth flooring and fell forwards on the ground. From the corner of her vision, she saw a blur of something black flash across the room. She shook her head, ridding it of stars, and stared at Bartholomew with the mouse in his jaws.

“Whose cat is that?” asked her mother, easing from the counter tops. Bartholomew swished his tail at her, and then stared unerringly at Candace. Candace felt like she was being sucked into those big grey eyes, almost as though they were attempting to communicate.

“Hey, mom,” said Candace, “ what was the story about the abandoned city again?”

“You mean Postmeridie? It used to be populated with people, but I heard that they all vanished one day. Like they turned into thin air, a hundred and something years ago. I thought I told you this before? I don't want you going near that place, do you hear me?”

“Wasn't there something about a monster? Wasn't that why you don't want me near there?”

Her mother scratched her chin.

“It's just a rumor people made up, some legend. The reason I don't want you going near that place is because it's dangerous to play in ruins. Something could fall...you're always wandering off...”

Bartholomew tiptoed to Candace's lap, and set the dead mouse on her apron. Candace stared at it. Her mother yelped in pain, seeing it.

“Hey mom,” she said wrapping the dead mouse in her apron to throw out later, “I know whose cat this is, so I'm going to go return him. I won't be gone long...”

“Take the lantern, it's on the table,” said her mother, backing away, “and get rid of the thing.”

“...right.”

….

It was darker than Candace had thought it would be, as she trekked through the woods in the twilight with the lantern held at her side. She dodged the roots and the branches, peering at Bartholomew, who was always a bit ahead. The woods were different at night, scarier. Candace couldn't help being a little tense, and periodically checked behind her, feeling paranoid that someone was following her. When at last she came to the city on the other side, she breathed in the open night air. She had come here many times before, when it was light, and thought she knew exactly what it was like. But in the darkness, it changed into a giant black beast waiting to devour her. Candace knew it was ridiculous to be frightened, but when she squinted at the shattered windows and the pitch black open doorways, all she could imagine was the hundreds of people who had disappeared, crowding in on her, moaning. A short, chill breeze flew it's way through her as her footsteps echoed coldly in the street and she shivered. She clutched at the lantern; the only boundary between her and the dark.

Bartholomew bounded forward, obviously made to be in the night. He turned back to her, and all in a moment he vanished out of sight. Candace panicked, and ran blindly forwards, as though Bartholomew was her only guide, when she stumbled over a piece of debris and felt the deepened air of the alleyway at her side. She found her bearings with her hand on the familiar brick wall, and ran down the tunnel, the lantern casting and shattering light in the tightened space. On the other side, she stopped and caught her breath.

Daylight.

She shaded her eyes, blurry in the sudden change of lighting. It was pure daylight here, dazzling and bright in all it's glory. There was the tree, and she could spot all of the cracks and weeds sprouting in the courtyard stones. It was exactly the same as when she had come here earlier. She gaped, unable to believe her eyes.

Where is Sophie?

She wasn't anywhere to be found. The courtyard was empty, just like the tree branches were empty. Candace stumbled into the door frame at the left of the willow tree, and looked inside for the first time. It was a one room living space, with a single table in the middle, and a tiny bed in the back. There were a few bookshelves, but the shelves seemed incredibly lonely with only a couple of old, frail books taking up their space. Sophie wasn't here either.

Candace stepped outside, and that was when she saw Bartholomew. He was sitting in front of the tree, staring upwards, almost melancholy.

Dusk was falling.

“Bartholomew?” Candace walked over to him, and he didn't even stir. That was when she noticed the subtle, golden glow from the tree stump. There was a figure embedded into the tree, and the glow outlined them against the fast falling shade. Their body had become the color of bark, and roots seemed to grow from the tree to them. It took a moment for Candace to realize what she was seeing.

“Sophie,” she whispered, and then louder, “Sophie!”

She plunged at the tree and tried to remove the roots sucking, almost eating, her. She tugged and tugged, but nothing would come free.

“Sophie!” she screamed, desperate. With one final tug, Candace succeeded in pulling off one of the thinner roots covering the girl's left arm. Sophie twitched, and then opened her eyes.

“Candace?” She asked, quiet like a sick person.

“Sophie! You, you're-” Candace didn't' quite know how to explain the situation.

“Stop,” she said, quiet, but demanding. Candace froze.

“But you're stuck to a tree!” she shouted, indignant, “I have to get you out!”

“No,” Sophie said, quieter and quieter, “This is supposed to happen.” Another tree root slithered over her legs, and she grimaced in pain.

“But, but...” Candace jumped on both of her feet, not knowing what to do.

“Listen to me,” Sophie said, fixing her gaze on her, “There was a reason you came here, it wasn't just a game of hide a seek that had you find this place. You're next, you're the reason you came here, it wasn't chance, do you understand?”

Candace couldn't move, not even create an expression on her face.

“I was meant...to find this place?”

Sophie nodded her head.

“I-” Candace was suddenly violently pushed to the ground, scraping her elbows. Bartholomew let out a screech, and the fur rose on his back. Through the hazy twilight, Candace saw a large shape from behind her and then realized it was Edgar. He was staring at Sophie.

“It's you,” he said, his eyes shiny with something Candace couldn't recognize.

“Lucius,” said Sophie softly, staring up at him.

“You..., you're the one that...that...”

“...I'm sorry Lucius.”

At the sound of her apology, the look in Edgars face changed into something more beast than human. He sprang at her, and before Candace knew it, he was choking Sophie with both hands.

“Don't say you're sorry! Never say you're sorry! You're not sorry, you little bitch! You killed them! You killed them all, and when I came back, they were gone! My family, my daughter, everyone!” Tears started rolling down his face. Sophie was making choking noises, and was starting to turn blue. With the left hand that Candace had freed, she reached out and held onto his arm, almost like she was trying to comfort him while he was killing her.

“They were gone! Every last one! Why? Why did you kill them? You should have killed me too!” Candace could see in the glow that something wet and shiny was streaming down Sophie's cheeks. Candace stood up and charged into Edgar's side with all of her strength, knocking him down across the cobblestones, freeing Sophie from his grip. She tripped and fell on her knees, breathing hard. Sophie coughed and wheezed, getting her breath back. Edgar stayed where he was, lying helplessly on the ground.

“I was on a trip, and they waved me goodbye,” he said with his back to them, “I promised I would return safely.”

silence.

“I was the only one out of the city when it happened. I thought that at least I could see them again when I died, but I realized a few years later that I wasn't aging. Even hanging myself didn't work...” he shook his head.

“It was my mistake,” said Sophie, “I wanted the city to live with me, but I didn't realize the price...the energy flowed the wrong way. It dispersed into whatever was left, the stone, the trees, and you. When I realized what had happened, I couldn't change it though I wanted to.”

More silence.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

Edgar put his head up to the sky. The first stars were blinking visibly.

“I knew when the girl didn't return for the longest time, where she was and why you wanted her. I followed her, hoping there was a chance...”

“I can't.”

“...If you won't do it, then...” He stood up. In three seconds, he had his hands wrapped around Candace's throat. She couldn't breathe, and tears sprang to her eyes.

“Then I'll just have to become the next god!” His eyes were gleaming with the pain, fear, and greed of a wild animal. He squeezed harder and harder, and Candace could feel herself suffocating. Her vision was going blurry.

“Lucius,” she heard Sophie say, half in an illusion. She pointed her left hand at Edgar, and before Candace's very eyes, he was aging. His eyelids drooped lower and lower, his skin became leathery on her throat, and his grip became less and less. His wrinkles spread over his face, and just as Candace blinked, he was gone. Ashes had eaten away his body, and all that was left of him was a sigh in the wind as it blew them away.

Candace stared at the place he had disappeared.

“Where...did...” she started, coughing as the breath returned to her lungs.

“Candace,” Sophie said, and Candace looked over. She was shocked to find that all that was left of her was her head. Her left arm had quickly become covered with bark after she had pointed it, and the bark was climbing up her throat.

“Sophie!” she said, in shock.

“Candace, listen...to...me...” the bark had now climbed up to her mouth, and she was having trouble speaking, “Night...I'm...gone...gol-...apple.” The bark continued up to her eyes and formed a circle around them. Candace threw her eyes up to the sky. The light was almost gone. All that was left of it was a hint of pink on the horizon.

“Gol-...of...su..n...sil..v...of...moo...n,” she finished. The last pink disappeared, and Sophie became completely covered by bark. Her eyes were closed, and to Candace it seemed as though she almost had a smile on her face. The subtle golden light that had outlined her before was now replaced by darkness. Unless you knew she was there, you wouldn't have been able to see her. Candace shrank into a ball and cried. Bartholomew tread over to her, and he let her hold him. After what seemed like a thousand years, but was only a few minutes, Bartholomew squirmed and put his paw on her cheek. Candace looked up, and realized that it wasn't as dark as it was before. There was a glow coming from somewhere. Bartholomew hopped out her arms, and stood a little ways off looking at the source. Candace turned around, and saw it.

A golden apple.

It was growing from the willow tree, glowing in the night like a lantern. It was warm like honey. Candace stood up and faced it. It was then she understood. She silently went up to it and cupped it in her hands. It was pulsating with a luke-warm heat. She pulled it from the tree, and the light refracted across the stones and the thousand hanging leaves of the willow tree. She held it to her eyes, and the light seemed to seep into her. She silently said her goodbyes.

She took a bite.

Golden apples of the sun,

silver apples of the moon.

The never-ending night bore witness to her promise.