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The story goes that a while ago, a gold miner moved into the long-abandoned house on the hill and started living there.
Let us not talk about this man’s identity, for it was not something one can know for sure. Despite being called the "gold miner", no one in this village had ever seen him done anything gold-related at all. He lived alone, separated from the rest of them and worked diligently day after day, watered the field in the morning, fed his dogs and the chickens in the evening, and went down to the village to run errands for whoever’s in need. He would take all sorts of jobs, like selling the eggs and vegetables, and would still find the time to help elders. But never would he stay and talk more than necessary.
No one knew where he came from, what he came here for, where his family was, or why his face was so horribly scarred. Fortunately, everyone loved the tall, hard-working and charismatic man. So despite being a bit mysterious, he was gradually accepted.
And just like that, Norton Campbell went on with his life, unchanging and non-bothered.
Until that one day.
The strange story began on an utterly ordinary morning. He had picked up the water for the vegetables as usual, when he noticed that in the middle of his familiar field appeared some strange plants! Norton uprooted them away, but for some reasons he couldn’t tell, decided to leave one of them intact. Then he shielded, watered, fertilized the tiny little thing so that it could grow in a small corner of his garden.
It didn’t take him long to realize that he was raising a sunflower.
Why did Norton even bother? The flower was fragile, almost too fragile, which required many efforts and gentleness to keep alive. It was too small to be sold, so he wasn’t making any profits either. But he let it be, even cared for it. Maybe it reminded him of something? The brightest yellow, having only protruded a tiny bit out of the papilloma, resembling a smile that never faded. Norton often avoided looking at it, the yellow color that rippled in his chest an indescribably painful grief. It hurt.
Nevertheless, he made sure that it bloomed. And it did, because spring had arrived just on time.
Spring was like a joke to Norton Campbell. The weather was erratic, the sun rose earlier, the days were longer, and in the new season, he became even busier than he was before. Spring was beautiful, spring was full of life. But how could the gold miner spare the time to pay attention to such unimportant things? He kept working hard without ever noticing the dewy grass covering his boots, the cool breeze teasingly running through his long black hair. No, he knew nothing at all. Or he deliberately didn't care - who knew what was really happening in his thoughts.
- I like the sun, it's so warm and lovely! - The sunflower said.
Wait.
The sunflower said?
Startled, Norton dropped his spading fork and looked at the direction of the voice with alarm. Was this it? Was he finally going out of his mind? Was someone trying to play a prank on him? But no sunflowers were found, and instead, where the flowers should had grown, a boy was sitting on his knees, swaying gently back and forth.
Had the miner been a little more rational like he had always been, he would asked the other to leave his garden. Oh how familiar he was with the spoiled children who wouldn’t miss a chance to disturb him, this one even dared to sit on his very precious flower! But Norton didn't do that. He stood staring. The boy’s blinking eyes were clear as the blue sky, his little lips slightly parted like pink petals, his cheeks were flushed, and his curly, wavy hair flutter. Strange little kid even looked like a sunflower, the very thought that made Norton shuddered with disbelief.
The flower - no, boy, peered back at Norton, curious, amused, and then grinned.
With trembling legs, Norton approached, reaching out. He made an attempt to chase this boy away but was stopped by the little hand pulling him down. Small petal lips kissed on the rough, bigger hand, then put it on his own small blushing cheek. The smaller one exclaimed:
- Thank you! Thank you so much!!
What a strange little man, kept going on and on about how grateful he was, his small happy voice chattering incessantly like a happy bird. Then he stood up and wrapped his small body around Norton, face buried in and rubbing the miner’s neck. Norton didn't push away, nor did he want to let go. The man clutched tight, holding on desperately as if this little joy was about to disappear at any moment. This felt so small, so familiar, like a rare ray of sunlight in spring caressing the miner's tender flesh.
Norton put a hand on the other's blonde hair and something warm came back to him all over again.
They kept hugging each other for a long time. But his field couldn't crop on its own, so Norton got back to work. This time there was a chirping voice accompanying him.
- What are you doing?
- I'm a farmer.
- What are you farming for?
- It’s the new season, so I'm digging the soil up to grow some vegetables.
- What do you grow vegetables for?
- I might eat or sell them.
The boy asked nothing more. He quietly laid down on his back, his blonde hair spread across the damp soil.
And so it became a routine for Norton. Every morning, he would always find the boy sitting right there in the garden, waiting. Sometimes the little one would give an endless monologue about a hundred and seven things, none of them related to each other. Sometimes he would say nothing at all and just looked at the sky. There was something very familiar about that strange boy, in the way he sniffed his red nose when it became colder, or how he kept waving his arms around when talking. Especially his eyes, shining like a sparkling starry sky.
- Who are you?
Norton would sometime stop working and asked him. Common sense told the miner that nothing about the kid made sense at all. The question is repeated every day, and never would the answer change.
- I do not know either.
As if the boy didn't answer at all. He would purse his lips, his thinking face made him look like a child. And then he would give himself a different name, Harry, John, and Martin, .. he told Norton that if he kept on like that, maybe someday he would be able to choose the right one.
- You grow these to sell, or eat, right? - The boy suddenly asked.
- Yes?
- So are you going to eat me or sell me?
Norton laughed again. He had never laughed this much.
- As for ye, my dear sir, I will only leave ye be for me to watch ye every day.
After saying that, the miner walked towards the cheeky smiling man, placing a quick kiss on his forehead. The little man froze a bit, then got all cheery. He held Norton's hands and danced around in a circle, then rushed into the bigger one's lap, hugging tightly.
None of their hugs actually felt right at all. The selfish gold digger would just ignore the unpleasant emptiness in his own heart, allowing himself to sink into the feeling of having this person back at his side one more time. He was falling in love, and wished that they could stay like this forever.
Norton didn't know or pretended not to know, that when he turned away, the blonde is no more. Only a lonely flower.
One day Norton went to the garden and saw that the young man's hair was turning into a darker color. He who was normally talkative stayed silent, his thoughtful face grim and distant.
- Mike. Please call me Mike! - Only then did he speak, his voice soft, but barely audible.
Norton grasped his chest as his heart tighten. The miner came here to escape the darkness of the mines and to fight pneumonia, but now, it started to cover his vision again. The fresh, country air suddenly thickens around him. He could not breathe.
Mike looked at him, silently tilting his head. Like he couldn't understand. You look adorable this way, Norton was about to say that, but ...
- Are you sick? Please don't be sick!
Mike said so quickly and clung to his ruffled shirt. Norton shook his head.
- 'S fine, sweetheart. It's just...
The prospector said as he put his hand on Mike Morton's blond hair, the very name that tucked at his deepest sorrows, hidden and buried away, then crushing him inward. A reassuring gesture. Mike smiled again, leaning into his touch looking amused.
It was just like before, in a distant past that Norton could not even remember. Mike talked like he was singing, his voice was sweet as honey, his smile as wide as a thousand sunny fields. His hair reminded Norton of the small baby chicks, yellow and fluffy and soft. Though Norton wonder where had they all gone?
His hand touched the withered sunflower, causing the petals to fall out and fell to his feet. There wasn't any wind to blow them away.
- Oh Norton, don't be sad, will you? Smile for me maybe? Please please, please?
fin.