The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - The Sleeping Tree

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Adventure the Fir

.storiesbydennis

released Dec

gital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retr

he product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

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fter the survivors coasted down the river, they used what remained of the wreckage to start a small camp in a clearing by a tributary. Years later, the town came to be what it is now, a quaint, little place surr

et, and home to a handful of families—descendants of the shipwrecked—and little else. The Ross family, however, were newcomers, or at least the parents were. The boys, Largo and Larson, were born there. Margaret Ross, the boys' mother, died shortly after Larson's birth, leaving

*

shut his eyes tight, bit his lower lip, and rolled

' lummox, "

tics—slapping him softly but repeatedly on the cheek—was enough to work him into a foul mood. Ensconced in semi-darkness,

er with you?" La

The boys were nearly ten years apart. While Largo had light brown hair

, kiddo, " Largo chuck

ded steps of the room he shared with his brother and into the common area. Their home was large but modest, and Mathew was no carpenter, so the co

nd chairs and stumbled for the

argo replied from the

was smoked rabbit in the storeroom. Then, he realized that his brother had not yet brought out the

't want to go to school, " Lars

ou

to school?" he complained and

teeth, boy, and I already did my schoolin'. Now, I

go laughed. That action was something their dad did when he was ab

I do in

ays the school here is easy, nothing the like o

early rising, rigid structure, homework. Looking over his husky brother, he remembered Largo told him there were older people in Flotsam who didn't know how to read, but their dad demande

saw his dad teach Largo once, but for some reason they stopped, and no one fessed up

re's

e, downstream, " Largo

o by

hool, boy. Now hurry up, I

go on m

min' anyway, "

as. He complained again, but Largo insisted on walking at least part ways, and after breakfast and dressing, they strolled beyond the crops.

l was in sight. Largo rolled his eyes, nodded, and as Larson tottered off, he watched

hem had letters on them. Others had paintings of people or castles, lands, and boats. There was a fat woman behind a desk at th

rs and tables. They were empty. No other boys and girls ha

She was an older woman with gray strands of

is ev

athetically. "I taught your brother. He'

the sort. They looked at each other for a long moment. Mrs. Graham bore a

their way inside. Some of them were a bit older. A few were his age. He had played with some of them by the river before. The boys, La

er time teaching the older kids, and in turn, they taught the younger ones. By the end of the day, all Larson had to show for his atte

m uneasy. Slowing down to a trot, he noticed his brother's hair was a mess, he was sweating profusely, althoug

o asked once Larson

's wr

home, " Largo snip

f mid-afternoon, it was brownish but clear, and Larson

d you

second. He looked up. Largo didn't

nd numbers,

and stuff, " Largo echo

d b

indoors, the sun was making its descent behi

" Largo ordered. "

he crops, he decided to fiddle with his new books. They were interesting, but not as interesting as swordplay. As he started to leave the dinner table, Largo came in. He had removed

ming home?" La

tomorrow,

s he d

's got business

en if young and uneducated.

en he didn't want to reveal something that might upset them, but t

g forced to relive them at his brother's request, nothing happened. Oddly enough, their dad had still not returned. Late one evening, while Larson was upstairs wash