Author: Gabrielle O’Connor – Third Place Senior Division 2025
Grade 12 (Copper Country Christian School – Chassell, MI) Sponsor: Judy Chizek
Beneath bright stars and a candle-lit sun were the traveler and his son. They never stayed in one place very long, and the boy grew lonesome. Every place they went, he longed for a deeper connection with others, but due to the brevity of their stays, he could never attain a long-lasting friend.
On one of their travels, they passed through a town they were to be staying at for three days. The father found them shelter while the boy went out to explore. He found a bridge and upon it was a boy shedding big, unconsolable tears.
“What’s the matter?” asked the traveler’s son.
“My dog,” the boy wailed, “he fell in the river.” The traveler’s son looked over the bridge and saw a small puppy struggling against the current but to no avail. He knew it wouldn’t be able to resist much longer and would surely die. In a moment of determination, the traveler’s son jumped off the bridge to rescue the dog. With great effort, he managed to get the dog safely to shore.
“Pablo!” the boy exclaimed as he and the dog ran at each other, reunited at last. “Thank you so much; I’m more grateful than you’ll ever know.”
The traveler’s son shrugged. “Nothing to it.”
“Come have dinner with me and my family,” the boy said. “I insist.”
They walked back to the boy’s family’s estate, and along the way they ran into his father, the traveler.
“Son, I have found us a place to stay,” said the traveler, “come with me and let us have supper.” The son shook his head and explained that he was to have dinner with the boy he had met. His father let him go. He looked at his watch and fitted his cap then went to eat in solitude.
The traveler’s son stayed with his new friend’s family all three days and nights. As he was bidding his farewells, he and the boy made a promise to each other that they would always be best friends, and that in a year, he would return and bring him along on his journeys as the boy would be of age. They then parted and the traveler’s son went to look for his father. It took him most of the day, and when he found his father, he had housed himself in a damp alley sitting on a pile of old newspapers with a small pot hanging over a fire.
“Would you like some tea?” his father asked, holding out a cup. The boy, having just had three days of the refineries of fine China and imported goods, declined his father’s offer. He looked about and thought how drab and uncomfortable this “place to stay” looked. He hadn’t had it in his mind to feel bad for his father, only relief that he didn’t have to suffer the same fate.
The traveler drank up his tea and packed away his small pot. They headed on their way and traveled for two more days before landing upon the next town. His father once again went off to find shelter and the boy wandered around town. This town was a little smaller than the last; however, it had a flower shop of exceptional taste which caught the boy’s eye, though more so the girl working behind the counter more than the shop itself. Her eyes were mesmerizing, and her hair was a golden noose he’d gladly let hang him. He normally would’ve wanted to get her flowers as a romantic gesture; however, with her being constantly surrounded by them, he doubted she’d be much impressed. He pondered for a moment, then quickly spotted a bakery just a few doors down. He popped in and bought some chocolates. As he headed back into the flower shop, there stood a young gentleman in front of him dressed in fine clothes offering the young lady a box of much more expensive-looking chocolates as well as a silver necklace. The lady behind the desk refused and the gentleman walked away, sullen. The traveler’s son looked at his pitiful chocolates and his drab clothing. He couldn’t approach her like this! He must make himself look exponentially more impressive. He threw away his chocolates and went to find his father. He found him at the inn front desk and requested money from his father to buy better clothes and chocolates.
“If I give you the money,” his father reasoned, “we won’t have enough for food and housing.”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem. When I win the girl’s heart, she’ll want to introduce me to her father, and I can humbly request that he grant me shelter,” the boy stated confidently.
“For us both?” his father inquired.
“Yeah, yeah, sure, of course.” The boy swindled the money from his father’s hands and was off to buy his deception. He found himself the best suit in town, bargained at a pawn shop for a necklace with an ambiguous pendant, and lastly stopped by the bakery once again for a much more expensive cherries jubilee. He stepped into the flower shop a second time and walked up to the young lady behind the counter, offering his gifts.
She shook her head, coy. “Hm, jewelry and a dessert, coming from a young man dressed in his Sunday best. Never seen this before. I’d say 4/10 on effort. Could’ve shown a little more creativity.”
“Oh, but you see,” the traveler’s son retorted, “this isn’t just any dessert and necklace.”
“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
The boy cleared his throat. “Well, you see, I chose these with a girl such as yourself specifically in mind. Chocolates and cakes have just too much sugar and dairy which causes bloating, and we of course can’t have that, so the dessert I picked out especially has half the sugar while being just as sweet! Trust me it is worth it.”
Her eyes full of skepticism, she took a bite, and it was sweet, just as he had said. “And what about the necklace?” she asked, mouth full.
“Ah, yes, this necklace is special, alright.” the boy started. “This necklace belonged to the great king Herbert, passed down through the generations until it was thought to be lost at sea, but alas, I have recovered such an item.”
“And you mean to give it to me?” she gasped.
“But of course,” the boy declared smoothly. “The rarest necklace for the rarest girl.” He clasped the necklace around her neck as she ogled over it. He politely bestowed a kiss upon her hand and told her he should be on his way. Just as he was exiting, she stopped him.
“Wait,” she beckoned. “Wouldn’t you please come and have dinner at my father’s estate? We’d have more than enough for you.”
“I’d be honored,” said the boy with a small bow. He helped the girl close up shop as the sun was setting and headed for her father’s estate. On the way, his father called to him from across the street.
“Do you know that man?” asked the girl, wrinkling her nose.
“Not at all,” replied the boy, waving his father off. He knew the girl would figure out he was lying if she saw his father, dressed in tattered clothes and carrying a worn pack. He needed the façade to work just for the next few days; then he’d return to his father. His father’s shoulders slumped as he took in his son’s gesture. He checked his watch, fitted his cap, and went on his way.
They arrived at the estate, and it was clearly the most extravagant house on the block; probably in all of town. He exchanged greetings with the girl’s parents, and after some idle chit chat, they headed into the dining room.
“You won’t believe what happened today,” the girl exclaimed during dinner as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “A young man asked me for a date, offering only chocolates and a silver necklace. Not even gold! I doubt he makes any more than four thousand a year.” Her parents laughed with her, and the boy feigned a guffaw along with them, though he’d never even seen four thousand let alone own it. She turned to the boy. “Of course, I’m certain you must make at least ten thousand.”
The boy choked on his drink in shock and had to cough to clear his throat before speaking. Such high numbers! “I’d say twelve thousand at least, though I’m not so prideful as to keep exact track,” the boy boasted, a smooth recovery. He could tell her parents took note of that.
“Twelve you say?” the father pondered, eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You certainly must be well off. Please let us house you for the duration of your stay. I doubt any inn around here would suit your fancy anyway with the amount of luxury you must be used to.”
“Oh, only if you insist,” the boy replied, a smug grin trying to escape his lips. They finished dinner and went to bed. The boy hung around the girl and her family the next four days, even helping the girl with tending the flower shop. On the last day, the traveler’s son promised that in a year’s time he’d come back for her hand in marriage. She agreed joyfully, and they shared a kiss before he went on his way to find his father.
He found his father sitting in the dirt in a small, wooded area on the outskirts of the small town slicing bread. The traveler offered a piece to his son. The bread looked to be stale and tasteless, a flavor he had not missed the past few days. He declined and instead pulled out a loaf of his own bread wrapped in a small cloth along with small jars of jam and honey which the girl’s mother had given him. He gulped down his meal, wiped his mouth and pressed his father to finish his lunch quickly so they could be on their way. They were on the road within the hour and took a day’s travel to the next town.
This town was even smaller than the last; however, it was more bustling as it was a labor town where every man worked with his hands. His father once again went to find them a place to stay and the boy scouted out the town. As he went along, a man, whose grey-sprinkled beard revealed his age, hollered him over.
“Help me move this log, will ya?” the man requested, heaving a grunt as he started to lift the log. The boy got on the other end and hoisted up the log onto the wagon which wood was already stacked in.
“Thank you, young man,” the man sighed, leaning his middle-aged body on his knees. The boy nodded his response, but before he could escape potentially more work the man queried him. “Say, I haven’ seen you around here before. What’s your trade, boy?”
“I have some experience in woodwork, sir,” replied the traveler’s son. The man pondered for a moment then offered him a job in exchange for shelter. On the way to the man’s home, the boy saw his father on the street corner. The boy quickly pushed the man to take another street instead, fearing the man would send him back to his father if he knew. The traveler saw this, but simply checked his watch, fitted his cap, and went on his way. They arrived at the man’s home, which was very modest, barely having all the necessities. They went into his workshop, and the man started to teach the boy his trade.
“So why did you ask to teach me?” the boy questioned, wincing as the knife he was using slipped and nicked his finger. He had only learned a minimal amount that his father had taught him though hardly had the time to put it into practice.
“Well, you see son, I’m not getting any younger and I have no son to pass on my trade to,” the man explained, solemn. The man taught the boy everything he knew about the trade, and they spent the next week together. As promised, the man gave him food and shelter. But the boy felt the time he spent with the man meant more than just him receiving a reward; he felt the knowledge he’d learned was a reward in itself. When he was a young boy, his father would always try to teach him about how to be a salesman the way he was, but it was never something he had been interested in, and his father wasn’t the type to force him. His father did have a minimal amount of knowledge on carving so he taught him that in hopes the boy would be able to make use of it, but the boy detested most things from his father. He believed him to be a failure as they were always poor, and even the profession he chose he wasn’t very good at. Though one could hardly call it a profession as it was usually simply a job that the desperate claim in order to get by.
By the end of the week, the boy said his farewells to the man. He promised that in a year, he would return, and he planned to stay and continue to work with the man. The boy went to find his father once again, though he hadn’t bothered himself with a thought of concern for him the entire week despite not hearing from him. In the end he found him sleeping in a barn, eating the scraps the owners fed to the pigs.
“Father, why are you here?” his son asked him, not out of worry, but simply disgust.
“I used a majority of my money to pay the kind couple who own this barn to let me take shelter in it. But I wanted to make sure you’d have food so I didn’t buy anything for myself and left enough for you to get yourself something,” the father explained, holding a small bag of coins out to the boy. The traveler’s son snatched the bag and put it in his pocket.
“Well, we better get moving. I’ll buy something in the next town.” They packed up their things and went on their way.
* * *
A year went by and the boy was ready to return to those he had promised. Alas, his father came to him with some disheartening news.
“Son, during one of our travels recently, a man falsely accused me, saying I swindled him,” his father explained. “My reputation in these parts has been dampened. I was planning to move us to America.” The boy was in shock. He couldn’t move to America! He had plans and promises to fulfill.
“You can go to America by yourself,” the boy declared. “I have things here I need to take care of.”
“Son, I am elderly. I doubt I can make it there on my own,” his father pleaded.
“Well, then you won’t go at all because I’m staying,” the boy protested.
“I have to.”
“Then go, don’t go, break your back on the way there, starve here, it doesn’t matter to me! I just know whatever you do, I’m not going to be a part of it,” the boy snapped, running off to fulfill his promises. In the distance his father checked his watch, fitted his cap, and went on his way
He made it to the first town, and he looked for the boy he had befriended. He found the dog he had saved the year prior first, and he bent down to pet him.
“Hey, Pablo, how you been?” The dog bit at his finger and the boy recoiled in surprise.
“What are you doing? Who are you?” It was the boy he had befriended who spoke, his words sharp and accusatory. The traveler’s son quickly stood up and brushed himself off.
“It’s me, from a year ago, the traveler’s son,” he explained, holding his arms out for an embrace. The boy scrunched his eyebrows together.
“I don’t know you,” the boy said coldly, and he ran off to join another, a boy with nicer clothes and who had animals. The traveler’s son felt abandoned, but he brushed off the shock and decided to push forward to the next town.
He arrived at the second town and went to look for the girl from the flower shop. He found the flower shop, which had been added onto in the past year and was more extravagant than he’d last seen. He went in and sure enough the girl was behind the counter.
“My darling!” he exclaimed. “I’ve come for your hand in marriage.” The girl looked at him puzzled for a moment, then her eyes lit up in a sudden moment of realization.
“Oh, it’s you! I could hardly recognize you in those drabby clothes,” she clarified, gesturing to his dirty, plain colored tunic and pants filled with holes. “But you mustn’t have heard the news then. I’m engaged!”
“What?” the boy gasped in utter disbelief.
“Yes, to a man who makes over twenty thousand a year! Too bad about you though, sorry you had to come all this way. Twelve thousand just isn’t enough for me anymore. Though I suppose it’s a good thing I met him when I did because it looks to me like you’ve gone bankrupt,” she snickered. The boy had no retort; he just stood there, mouth agape in shock. The bell from the door rang as a man entered, wearing fine clothes and jeweled rings.
“Who’s this?” asked the man, glancing at the traveler’s son.
“Oh, just a patron who best be on his way,” the girl replied, gesturing to the door. The boy left the store, heartbroken and despondent. But he pulled himself together and told himself that all hope was not lost, he still had the old man at the last town.
The traveler’s son arrived at the final town, which had expanded tremendously in the past year. All of the small houses he’d seen before had at least one if not more stories added atop them, and now, where the old man’s house had been was a great mansion. He saw the old man, now dressed in the finest suit he’d ever seen, standing on the lawn outside the mansion.
“Sir?” the boy breathed in disbelief. “Is that you?” The man turned around and a look of surprise befell his face.
“Ah, it’s you, boy! It must have been a year already. How you been?” the man asked, smiling as he put an arm over the boy’s shoulders.
“I came back to work for you…” the boy trailed off.
“I see. Well, I am no longer in need of your services, young lad; you see, I struck gold this past year, and I’ve now become mayor,” the man explained. “You’re better off traveling the world and whatnot on your own; I’ll bet you’ll find work somewhere. And besides, I really can’t be associating with someone of your, uh… status. You know, as mayor and all. Anyway, I’ve got business to attend to, but best of luck to ya.” The old man, now mayor, wandered off into his mansion to take care of whatever business he’d mentioned. The boy was beyond shock; he felt desolate, alone, an aching pain in his heart he couldn’t bear. And it was only about to get worse.
The traveler’s son spent the next many nights in an alley as his father was forced to do many times over. He decided it was time to leave after a few weeks, but as he was exiting the gate, a farmer stopped him.
“Hey, you that traveler’s boy?” the farmer inquired. “I let your pa stay the night in my barn last year, but I’ve received terrible news. Your father is dreadfully ill over in America. Apparently, he injured himself on the way over and has an infection. You ought to hurry boy; they don’t know how long he has.” The boy’s heart dropped as the farmer spoke, and without delay, he ran for the nearest port. He got himself on a ship using the last of his savings and was off to America. All the while on the ship, his heart pulled and twisted as his head raced, all the moments he neglected his father coming to mind. He kept repeating the last words he’d said to his father, and he couldn’t bear to think that those could be his last.
Once he landed in America, the boy followed the direction which the farmer had given to him. After two weeks of searching he found his father, but it was too late. He had made it to a relative’s house who had been tending to him, but his father’s figure was cold and still, his hand clutching his pocket watch. The boy fell to his knees in despair; he wept and wallowed.
The funeral was held the next day, and his relatives offered his father’s cap and pocket watch to him. It was meant as a sentiment, though he was not close with his relatives, and they likely knew the reason why he had not been with his father. He doubted they had anything but contempt for him in their hearts. But his father never did. He cared for him, despite all his mistreatment and ignorance. He only wished he could’ve told his father that he truly had been grateful, but while he was alive, that never would’ve been possible.
The boy threw on the cap and looked inside the pocket watch, tears coming to his eyes once more. Inside was a photograph of him and his father, a day he remembered well; a day when he knew he could truly say he loved his father. He closed the watch and gave a moment of silence for his father that day, the subduing of his ingratitude, and all that had passed.
The boy fitted his father’s cap, checked his watch once more, and went on his way. No longer as the traveler’s son, but as the traveler.
