Tuesday, June 24, 2025

There Was a Statue in the Garden by Jessica VanderWerff

 It's time for our second story responding to the prompt "There was a statue in the garden." !! I'm sorry for such a long wait, but I think you'll have fun seeing how differently Jessica responded to the prompt. I hope you enjoy this story poem, and be sure to leave a comment!!


Trigger Warning: Parent death

There Was a Statue in the Garden


“Is it finished yet?” 


“It’ll be done by this evening,” 

the boy’s father said with a smile. 


It had been only six months 

since the boy’s mother

had left the world, 

and he felt guilty

because part of him

(a very small part)

was angry with her

for leaving him alone.


He had his father

of course

but no one understood him

the way his mother had.

They had joked that they shared one soul

split into two bodies.

When his mother passed away

he felt as though part of his soul

was somewhere else

waiting to be reunited with him. 


Now the boy had to wait for many things:


Waiting for his grief to lessen

Waiting for many years to be reunited with his mother

Waiting for the marble statue his father ordered 

fashioned in his mother’s likeness to be completed


But tonight 

the statue 

was finished.


And when the velvet curtain was pulled 

off of the statue

in the light of the sunset that evening

the boy felt a little less alone in the world. 


The first thing the boy noticed 

was not the face

of the carved marble, 

but the arms. 

The long slender arms of the statue 

were outstretched 

as though they were reaching for an embrace.

The boy liked to believe 

that this was a message 

just for him,

reminding him 

of his mother’s love for him. 


He spent day after day in the shadow

of the statue. 

Countless hours 

Staring at his mother’s likeness,

dreaming of the day he would return to her. 


“Hello!” 

The boy turned around 

and saw his father’s wide eyes 

and frown that made his wrinkles appear

more severe than they actually were. 


“I’ve called you several times,

didn’t you hear me?”


“No, I didn’t.” 


His father sighed

and stared at the ground. 

“I’ve got something to tell you

and I know you won’t feel ready for it,

but sometimes that’s when the best things in life

happen to us. 

I’m sorry I didn’t involve you, 

But I’ve gotten married.” 


The boy sank to the ground 

and crossed his arms 

over his chest

as though he were dead. 

He cradled himself

rocking back and forth

as disgust and shock set in. 


Something crumpled inside of him. 


His father spoke 

before walking away.

The boy did not hear him. 


He didn’t remember

the day he met his stepmother

or her son.

He only remembered the day

he looked out his bedroom window

and saw his stepbrother

swinging on the arms 

of his mother’s statue. 

He was only a toddler

he didn’t know any better.


But the boy didn’t care. 

He went into a rage,

allowing the anger to overtake him.

His world turned blood red. 


The boy ran into the garden,

pulled his stepbrother off the statue

and threw him to the ground.

He stared in shock for a moment

as he realized 

that one of the arms 

had broken 

from the statue. 


“Jacob!” 

The boy heard his father yelling his name,

but he heard nothing else.

His ears filled with a ringing,

he went to his bedroom

and made his own prison,

locking himself away 

from the outside world. 


After three days

he emerged from his room.

He found his father

reading alone in the library.

They looked at each other

but said nothing.

He found his stepmother

in the living room.

They looked at each other

but said nothing. 

He found his stepbrother in the garden.

Jacob sat down beside him. 

“Michael,” Jacob whispered.

The little boy turned away from him. 


Jacob looked at Michael’s arm

and winced at the hand shaped bruise

Jacob had left 

when he pulled Michael

off of his mother’s statue. 


Jacob stood 

and offered Michael his hand.

Michael hesitated

and then took his stepbrothers hand.

They walked together 

to the statue. 

Jacob picked up 

the marble arm 

that had broken  

from his mother’s statue. 


“Fix it?” Michael asked.

“No,” Jacob whispered.

Jacob put his hands into the earth

and began to dig.

Michael followed his example.


When they had dug a large enough hole

Jacob placed the marble arm 

into its little grave

and together

Jacob and Michael 

filled it with earth. 


Hand in hand

they walked away,

and Jacob decided

that he loved his mother 

the most in the world,

but he didn’t need 

the statue 

anymore.  


1 comment:

  1. The ending struck me as the grieving boy chose a living human over a memorial statue. Beautifully full circle with what they dug together.

    ReplyDelete

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Our last story for our prompt: There was a statue in the garden. I LOVE seeing how differently we all respond to these prompts. Please leave...