Torben’s Destiny

                  Torben burst through the door of his family’s home with jovial excitement. “Hey Pops, I brought you a fresh load of your favorite manure for the crops. Let’s get those plants growin!”

                  “Did you dump it where it’s supposed to go, or did you leave it all in the wagon?” Torben’s father was a lean, yet strong looking man. Dark hair, dark mustache with tan skin reddened from his days in the fields. He currently worked on a repair in the main family room of their home, addressing Torben while focused on his fixing. Torben’s two older brothers sat watching his father at work.

                  Torben paused, wondering if he could skirt the issue. “Uh, not yet, but I’ll take that DUMP later.” Torben laughed to himself. His father did not laugh along.

                  Torben’s father continued to focus on the repair at hand. “Torben, you know if you don’t dump it right away, the moisture and smell will ruin the wagon. Dump the manure, then wash the wagon.”

                  Torben chuckled to himself, only thinking of the wagon taking a dump.

                  “TORBEN! I’m serious. Go deal with it now!” Torben’s father looked directly at him with a stern expression.

                  “Okay, okay, yeah, I’ll take care of it. I just wanted to tell you—”

                  “No, now! Take care of it now!”

                  “Calm down, I will, I’m just—”

                  “Torben, if you don’t do it now, you’ll come up with some excuse, some distraction, some reason for this or that, and it will never get done. Do it now, or you won’t do it. Seriously, take care of it now. If you don’t, you’ll forget as soon as you walk out the door. So please, go take care of it.”

                  “Why can’t you make Damian or Karl do it?”

                  “We’re helping dad. Duh.” Torben’s brother quickly responded with a shrug. Torben gave a disgusted, shocked look in response. His older brothers always seemed to get the first pick of chores around the farm, often leaving Torben with the least desirable options.

                  “Because I asked you to do it.” Torben’s father turned back to his project.

                  “But I volunteered to prepare the parade sculptures. I promised to have them completely prepped for Frilofest.”

                  Torben’s father shook his head. “Why do you keep volunteering for these things? We have a farm to run, we don’t have time for community spectacles. Running a farm takes serious work. If you plan to run your own someday, you need to learn where your priorities lie.”

                  Torben thought for a moment. “Well, maybe I don’t want a farm. Have you ever thought about that? Maybe I want to do something different. Maybe I want to run the parade one day, actually get involved in the community. Who knows, I could even run for a government position someday.”

                  Torben’s brothers snickered, glancing back and forth at each other.

                  Torben’s father took a deep breath, resting an elbow on the contraption under repair. He turned to Torben. “Maybe you do. Although you should know we have plans to expand, get new land. More than your brothers can handle on their own. Do whatever you want, but farming runs in the family. You are good at it, and it’s a good life despite your negative perception. You spend so much time chasing these wild dreams when a good life is right in front of you. Torben, you’re a farmer, you work hard. Just don’t be surprised when the others turn their back on you. They’ll never accept you. Politicians? Business owners? Controlling the world? It’s all a scam. They’ll never let a farmer like you into their inner circles. Those men all make money off people like you and me. They don’t care about you. Do whatever you want, although you’ll eventually have to accept that you were born to be a farmer.”

                  Torben sat for a moment in thought as his dad held silent.

                  Torben’s father turned back to his project, twisting a spring. “For now, take care of the wagon. Then you can do whatever you need to fulfill your promise. Damian and Karl will cover your chores, but you’ll have to pay them back for the favor.”

                  Torben held silent a moment. “Got it.”

                  “Now take care of that wagon. If you don’t do it now, you won’t do it at all.”

                  Torben nodded. In a rare moment of silence, he looked at his brothers, then at his dad, then nodded his head again and exited the house.

                  Shaking his head, he tapped the horse’s hindquarters, making a clicking sound, beckoning the horse to follow. Huffing and fidgeting, he stomp-walked to the barnyard area to unload the wagon of manure. As he approached a stray bucket in the grassy yard, he let out his anger with a swift kick. The bucket flew through the air, sloshing a hefty dose of stagnant trough water all over Torben.

                  “AHHH, C’mon!” Torben shook the water off his hands with a flick of his wrists.

                  Torben stood still, doing his best to gain composure.

                  His horse joined him by his side with a huff and a sneeze.

                  “Perfect.” Torben wiped the horse's snot spray from the side of his face. His horse rubbed the bridge of his nose on Torben’s shoulder. “Fine, I forgive you. At least you believe in me.”

                  “Neeeeiiiiiighghh!”

                  “Great. Now you?” Torben gave an accusing look at his horse. He looked at the wagon full of manure.

                  It would be easy to back the wagon into its designated location, lift the switch to tilt the bed, then scoop it out. Yet doing such a simple task meant Torben fell in line with what his father wanted. Destined to be a farmer. Torben shook his head. He hated falling in line. His father’s request to unload the wagon brewed a deep anger within Torben. It would be a simple task; he planned to do it. He even wanted to take care of the wagon before his father asked. But since his father asked him to unload the wagon, it sparked a revolt in his mind. Because he couldn’t go against what his father asked him to do, he could at least refuse to do the requested chore as long as possible. Torben did not detest the chore as much as he struggled to manage his father’s lack of faith, which required monumental emotional effort to overcome. 

                  Torben rationalized he should retrieve the bucket before he unloaded the wagon. He didn’t want to get yelled at for misplacing the precious trough bucket. He picked up the bucket and turned it over, noticing a loose rivet in the bent ribbed metal casing.

                  “Great, one more thing to get yelled at for,” Torben mumbled to himself.

                  He fiddled around with the loose connecter, hoping he could pop it back into place. But the repair required the use of tools. Torben made a mental note to fix it before his father discovered it, then flipped it over as a stool. He felt blamed for anything that went wrong on the farm. Torben rationalized he needed a moment to relax and catch his breath. He convinced himself that he couldn’t efficiently unload the wagon while feeling angry.

                  Torben took a deep breath as he sat on the bucket. “Relax.” he told himself. “They just don’t understand.”

                  His mind tried to comfort the frustration. Torben thought about Enok, wishing he could spend the evening with his friend. He enjoyed being around Enok because his friend didn’t judge him for his daydreaming.

                  “Why does everyone hate dreamers so much?” He thought to himself. “Isn’t that what all the poets, writers and musicians talk of? Dreamers changing the world?” Torben’s mind thought through the issue, arriving at one conclusion. “Well, it doesn’t seem like dreamers fit in the real world. They just cause problems.” Torben shook his head as he threw a random rock from the ground over the grassy fields.

                  Torben thought to himself a moment more sitting on the damaged bucket, trying to calm himself down. After several moments, he recognized that rebelling against his father’s requests only hurt him, and it would probably be best to unload the wagon and be done with it. Torben looked back at the wagon, then out at the open rolling fields of the farm.

                  “Although I could use a little energy boost before I unload the wagon.” His mind convinced him of a supposed solution to his procrastination. The farm’s berry patch lay a short walk away.

                  Torben jumped up, walking towards the berry patch. On his way, he scooped up a random stick that he swung back and forth as he walked through the tall grass. He meandered through the rolling hills of his family farm, navigating his way to the berry patch. His father told him to not to eat the berries off the bushes. He wanted them to wait until they harvested the berries so he could track the volume of the crop. But if everyone else in his family followed the rule, surely nobody would notice if Torben ate a few. He knew his father would be busy at home, unlikely to come out to the fields this late in the evening. Torben rationalized it would be impossible for his father to detect if only a few went missing.

                  Torben walked along the clusters of vines, searching for the largest plumpest raspberries, plucking them as he walked by. On several occasions, he would toss them up in the air, trying to catch them in his mouth. Even though he caught a few, he mostly missed, leaving a trail of smashed raspberries.

                  Cresting a hill of his family’s farm, he reached a point that looked out over the valley-village of Eknor. The setting sun brought in the colors of dusk, accentuating the light from the downtown village. Torben nestled up to several strawberry plants abundant with fruit. He sat in one of his favorite spots, looking over the village of Eknor.

                  Torben often extended his chores long enough for moments like this. He liked to reward himself after completing a long day of hard work with a moment alone, snacking on berries as the sun set. He loved watching the village come alive in the waning sunlight. The sparks of firelight lit his imagination as he dreamed of what he would accomplish someday. Torben bit through several strawberries, tossing their leafy tops back into the field.

                  “Someday,” he thought. “Someday I’ll be the one lighting those streets.”

                  Torben took a deep breath. He visually scoured the strawberry vines for his next succulent selection, licking the tart strawberry juice off his lips. The sweet strawberries conjured a sense of the upcoming summer. His mind felt a moment of relaxation as he stared at the lights coming from the village below. He felt like he still had to do something, but his mind wanted to relax and dream of the future.