Sapling of a Boy

The puppeteer stood in silence, staring at the night sky until the spots of stars burned dots in his retinas. "I couldn't have done anything wrong. Why isn't-"

An alluring hum startled his thoughts away. The melody spun around him, dancing through the air like a ballerina stuck in a music box. As the delicate voice continued to get closer the puppeteer released a calm breath but something was holding his shoulders in the lulling air, something almost sinister.

"Gepeeeeetto" A whispered call brushed passed his ear followed by a warm breath that trickled down his neck making Gepetto shiver. As he started to unravel from the calming voice, a cold, spindly hand gripped his shoulder making the air in his lungs grind to a halt. Gepetto sealed his eyes as he shrunk away, innocently hoping that whatever was in the room with him would vanish. However, the figure did not; it rose in front of the puppeteer and stood as still as a tightrope walker would when readying to take their first step.

Stoic and unwavering, the figure waited as Gepetto finally opened his eyes. In front of him stood a gangly but elegant woman. Downed with a long azure gown that accentuated her lanky figure. Her eyes pierced through the puppeteer with their complete black cascade. The moonlight made her pearlescent skin sparkle and spotlit her long golden locks. She was sickly thin with bones sticking out of her taught skin, yet, she somehow looked regal. Gepetto focused on her long, skeletal hands clasped in front of her.

"Bring me the boy, Gepetto." Her sullen voice contrasted her luxurious exterior. It left him a prisoner in his skin, unable to move, breathe, or think. "My patience is growing thin Gepetto. Bring the boy in or else I'll leave you with the broken body you oh so wish was your once jovial son again." Her words shocked Gepetto out of his statue-esc state. He ran out of the room and picked up the blanketed body he'd been avoiding since the accident occurred. As soon as he stepped back into the room with the sickly woman, she motioned for him to set the body down.

"Please... bring him back to me... I don't know what I'd do without my boy." The puppeteer rested a hand on the blanketed body, silently praying for his life to go back to the way it was before. He once again brought his eyes into the woman's gaze as she nodded in contempt.

"Are you certain this is the vessel you want your new boy to be housed in?" The woman motioned toward the limp wooden body of a puppet. Gepetto sat in silence for a moment. There wasn't much else he could give her, that puppet was the first one he made for his son. It was made in his image and with all the love and care he could muster in each hammer strike. He nodded in response.

"I made the puppet in his image, it's the best vessel I could think of."

"As you know, once this is done you cannot undo it. So I ask again, are you sure?" The woman's eyes burned straight through to Gepetto's very soul. It was hard to think with her beaming down on him.

"Yes-" He squeaked out. "Please... bring him back to me." The room began to glow a faint blue as the woman unclasped her bony hands. She beckoned towards the door insinuating that Gepetto's presence was no longer needed anymore. As he made his exit he couldn't help but release a sigh of relief. Finally, he was getting his beloved boy back. As he was making his way to his bedroom, Gepetto looked back at the room that housed the woman. The faint blue glow that shined through the cracks of the door brought a smile to his face. "Soon...". As he laid his head on his pillow Gepetto went to sleep in bliss. His dreams consisted of hopes of memories that he'd be able to make once more.

Gepetto awoke to the morning sun hitting his eyes and the sound of little feet eagerly running around. However, the typical sound of flesh hitting hardwood was replaced with wood-on-wood blows. It sounded as if a little boy was running about with wooden clogs on his feet. If the thought of his boy finally being back with him wasn't careening in his mind, Gepetto would've been stupified and concerned about who was in his house.

As the puppeteer wiped the crust out of his eyes, he tossed his blankets aside and made his way to greet his son. Once he opened the door, the small wooden boy ran up to the puppeteer shaking with excitement.

"Father! Father! I missed you!" He spread his twiggy arms wide, awaiting a loving response. Gepetto stuped down and embraced his small, hard frame. Relishing the moment, he pushed the thought about how solid his son's body was compared to before. Nothing mattered to Gepetto in this moment though, apart from the fact that his son was back. His world was finally whole once more.

Once the puppeteer released the boy, he studied his familiar form. Although the puppet was the same size and shape as his son, there were some stark differences. His once soft and fleshy skin was replaced with solid oak. The clean complexion his son had was now riddled with wood grain, the lines swirling around each of his limbs. Yet, looking past that Gepetto could still see his son behind the puppet's eyes. He was finally back and the puppeteer could barely hold in his joy.

"You ready for breakfast, my boy?" As soon as the words left Gepetto, a smile spread across Pinocchio's face. The wood grain around his mouth twisted up into an oaky grin. It looked as if the wooden boy had several mouths on his face with the little lines in the grain stretching out with his expression. Gepetto chuckled at the boy's reaction, but deep inside the puppeteer was afraid of his son now that he was back. Something just didn't feel right.

Pushing aside his worries, the puppeteer grabbed a loaf of bread and some strawberry jam. He carefully sliced a few slices from the loaf and laid them out on a pan, quickly taking it over to the stove to toast. Pinocchio sat at the dining table tapping his fingers in excitement. Each of the hard taps that the boy bounced on the tabletop made Gepetto grimace. Everything that the boy did now was clumsier and more jolty. It was as if a person who'd never maneuvered a puppet before had grabbed at the strings and swung the wooden doll around without a care in the world. It just felt wrong.

Once the puppeteer spread the jam on the toasted bread he brought two slices out to Pinocchio. The boy sent another smile to his father and started to devour the slices as Gepetto sat down at the table. At least one thing was still the same, that boy could always eat his fill and keep asking for more. After Pinocchio scarfed down the first slice of toast, he returned his gaze to the puppeteer.

"Father... could you maybe grab some grape jam the next time you go to the market?" Gepetto furrowed his brows.

"But I thought strawberry jam was your favorite?"

"It was, but I want to try grape jam!" The wooden boy shined that grainy grin at Gepetto, his wooden teeth sparkling as if someone spent time methodically varnishing each tooth. Although the puppeteer assumed it was an innocent request, it just sent him down another rabbit hole in his mind. His boy isn't just physically different now, he's also becoming objectively different. No, he just got his boy back, it couldn't be that bad. Maybe he just needs to get through a little adjustment period.

Gepetto returned his attention to the puppet. Within the few moments he spent spiraling, the boy had already finished the second piece of toast and the puppeteer hadn't moved a crumb on his plate. Noticing that his son was becoming antsy he decided to let him go outside. The boy lept out of his seat at his request and Gepetto followed suit, making sure to stay a few paces away from his son. Once they reached the back door, Gepetto ruffled Pinocchio's hair, shooing him to go out and play.

"Just be careful, okay?"

"I promise, I will!" The puppeteer followed his son's strides with his gaze. He then looked down at his palm, remembering how different his son's hair was now that he'd come back. The thought of the fibers that he felt as he ran his hand through his son's now yarny hair made his palm tingle.

"Will I get over this- No, he's back...it's going to be okay."

After tucking the wooden boy in bed that night and leaving a kiss on his forehead, Gepetto sat for a moment in contemplation. He couldn't shake the thought that even though his boy was back, he couldn't stand being around him. Everything just felt off. Not only was it hard to look at Pinocchio, his presence almost terrified the puppeteer. His now wooden exterior made the boy cold and hard, it completely overshadowed the jovial personality that Pinocchio once had.

The puppeteer tossed in his bed, unable to fall asleep with his thoughts running wild.

"That boy- Thing... felt so cold in my embrace. There's no warmth to that puppet whatsoever." As Gepetto closed his eyes, he fell asleep dreading the sun rising the next morning.

The puppeteer was awoken the following day to a tap on his shoulder. As he opened his eyes, he jolted back in fear. Right next to him stood the wooden boy, grinning ear to ear.

"Good morning, Papa!" Pinocchio's voice put Gepetto at ease, but the strung-out grin made his stomach drop. Still stunned, the puppeteer stared at the boy in silence. "Father? Are you okay?" The puppeteer pushed the boy aside as he sat up.

"Pinnochio, please go into the living room while I get up..." Although he meant to say it softer to the boy, it came out a lot more harsh. The wooden boy tilted his head but returned the smile he had to his face.

"Okay, will you be making breakf-" The puppeteer cut him off by ushering the boy out of the room and closing the door behind him. He let out a sigh of relief as he returned to his bed.

"I can't look at that... thing anymore. I love my son to death, but that isn't him. It can't be" The puppeteer crumpled into a ball on his bed. "What have I done?"

Time ticked on as slow as molasses pours out of a jar. However, before long it was already midday and Gepetto hadn't gotten the courage to look at the door. Pinocchio tried knocking on the door a few times as the puppeteer wept. Each knock pushed more fear into Gepetto's very soul. However, hunger was setting in for the puppeteer and he knew he should make food for both him and his son, even if that thing out there didn't feel like his son. After he made up his mind, there was one last knock that sounded against his door.

"Papa, please. I didn't mean to upset you. Please open the door." His son pleaded. Hearing his son's voice pulled Gepetto out of his mental solitude. It gave him some sense of a belief that his son was out there. As he opened the door to welcome him, the wooden boy ran in and wrapped his arms around the puppeteer. Feeling the hardness of the boy's solid arms pushed Gepetto over the edge. He shoved the puppet off of him, knocking the boy to the ground.

"No! Don't touch me, you abomination-" The puppeteer shrieked. The look on Pinocchio's face spoke wonders at the pain he felt, tears welled up in his eyes as he brushed off his oaky legs and stood.

"But father, I love you..."

"You're not my son! You're just a sapling of a boy that my son was. I could never love a creature like you." Gepetto's words crashed around the room as the wooden boy wiped the tears from his grainy face.

"You- You don't mean that."

"Get out! Leave me alone!" The puppeteer all but threw the boy out of his room and slammed the door behind him. Gepetto crumpled once more to the floor and wept until the room around him was blurry and the air stung his eyes. His son was gone and he was a fool to think he could ever bring him back.

The puppeteer continued to mourn his son into the early hours of the morning. The only thing that broke him out of his trance was his stomach lurching for food. The room spun around him and he knew he had to get something to eat. The thought of running into that thing again made his head fuzzy with anger and immense grief. Nothing could replace his son, not even a good-for-nothing puppet. As Gepetto stood and walked over to the door, he paused holding the cool handle.

"If it's out there, there's no telling what I'd do. I can't stand being in the same house as my son's imposter-" The puppeteer turned the handle and took a shaky step out of the room. Even though he didn't want to gaze upon that horrific replication, he was still scanning every nook and cranny of the house in search of that bastard. It wasn't until he stepped into the dining room that he saw that heinous reiteration of his son.

Pinocchio sat, holding his knees in front of the fireplace. As Gepetto strode over to the wooden boy, he brought his gaze to his father.

"Father? I'm so sor-" Gepetto stroked the puppet with a brisk slap across its face.

"Don't you dare say a word to me." Pinocchio tried to stand up, but the puppeteer shoved him back down. "I can't stand to look at you. I can't believe I could even think I could replace my son, especially with something as appalling as you." When the wooden boy tried to slide away from Gepetto, he swung yet again at the puppet, knocking it against the frame of the fireplace. The puppeteer was blinded with rage and took one final swing at Pinocchio, knocking him into the fire. The boy screamed as his body ignited in flames.

"Papa, Papa please!" the wooden boy reached out to his father to no avail. Gepetto stood in silence, grinning as the puppet crawled out of the mantel. His body slowly became charred as his struggle continued. With his final burst of energy, the boy reached out to his father and fell to the floor. With the flames burning themselves out, the puppeteer sighed in relief. The monstrosity was gone. His... son was gone. He would no longer hear his son's voice again...

Tears streamed down Gepetto's face as he knelt to touch the leftover ash of his broken body.

"Oh, Pinocchio! I'm sorry- I'm so sorry."