Tree of Truth (Book of Pilgrimage 1) Read Online Free PDF

and gold. Their lives must be empty and dreadful. I didn’t know what I would do without my books.
    The Ancients treated science with the same disdain as their language. Our world was suffering from greed and pollution, and all they could do was pray to their gods and belie with their beliefs our greatest discoveries. Maybe that’s why some people thought the Disease was the earth’s reaction to our attacks upon it. But then the factories closed, and the pollution disappeared, and still we were dying.
    I turned and whispered to Shelley, “What are you writing about?”
    “ Romeo and Juliet .”
    I chuckled. “You’re hopeless.” She reached over and pinched me. I blurted out, “Ow!”
    “Marlowe!” My teacher was getting annoyed.
    “Sorry.” I whispered again to Shelley, “I’m writing about Heart of Darkness .”
    “I hate that book. So depressing.”
    “And Romeo and Juliet is not?”
    “Stop distracting me.” She buried her head in her essay and ignored me. I wrote frantically, barely finishing one page before that cacophonous bell sounded our freedom as it did every afternoon. I penned a one-sentence conclusion before turning my paper in. My teacher gave me a stern look of disapproval, and then handed the paper back to me.
    “I expect better than this. You can turn the essay in tomorrow. Try not to get so distracted next time.”
    “There won’t be a next time. I promise.” I took the paper. “Thank you.”
    Shelley was waiting for me in the hallway. “Were you really at the Library all day ?”
    “Have you ever been there? All those Books, all those stories, those tragedies —I got lost in that place.”
    “Sounds depressing.” She didn’t have much else to say about it. I walked her home—she didn’t live far from school. We didn’t really talk on the way. I didn’t mind. I liked just spending time with her. We had known each other since we were kids. We didn’t have to search for things to talk about; we were fine just walking together. I could have walked the globe with her.
    When we got to her house, she asked, “Is your brother mad at you?” I suppose she had been thinking it all along, but didn’t want to ruin the walk with the discomfort of that question.
    “I don’t know. Probably. I’ll find out soon.” She gave me a hug.
    “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She looked once more into my eyes and then darted inside. The sun was setting, so I wasted no time getting home. I knew there would be tension. I wanted to think that I chose my own path, but Shelley was right. My brother did practically run this town, and until he left on his Pilgrimage, I would have to listen to him.
     
     

Chapter V
     
    Dinner was a quiet affair. Everyone was quite tired from the long day—funeral days were always long days. The peace of death brought no respite for the living. We finished eating, and I helped with the dishes. I thought I was in the clear with Brother Blake as I started for my bedroom to work on my paper. But before my foot landed on the first step, he grabbed me gently by the arm, snapping me out of my dream of a carefree egress from that den of anxiety.
    “We need to talk.” I should have known better.
    We walked outside. The sun had set, and it was cool for an August night. “What is it?”
    “You know what it is.” I did. I did not want to admit it. To admit it would have been to acknowledge there was something wrong in it. But I would never admit that loving Shelley was wrong.
    “We’re just friends, Blake.” It was true. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was true.
    “I know you love her. It’s obvious.” Blake was stern and tough, but he was a good leader for our family. He cared for us. He took care of things. He paid attention, and he knew us all well, perhaps too well.
    “Nonetheless—we are just friends.” I began to fidget nervously.
    “You will be sixteen soon. You need to stop wasting your time with Shelley. You need to find a wife.” Everyone