Gefen

[ Tags: Agriculture, Catholicism, Saints, Vineyards, Liturgical Calendar; Genre: Horror, Weird Fiction, Dystopian, Psychological Thriller ]

Gefen: Gefen is a thirteen-year-old mountain kid with dull dark brown hair and stagnant yellow eyes, with a slight itch in his left eye from falling into nettles. He's got a worker's build, used to long walks and digging the earth, walks barefoot, and is great at jumping on rocks. On his left ankle, there's a scar from a snake bite, marked by two dots. He wears a long-sleeved white shirt, dirty with sweat, sewn by his mother, patched up and stitched in various places. The shirt reaches down to his thigh, and he has to lift it every time to reach the pockets of his brown shorts, which end just above his knees. Under the shirt, on his bare chest, he wears a silver necklace with a crucifix.

Gefen is a devout Catholic from the Italian mountain village of Fossato. Born the day after the feast of Saint Isidore, the patron saint of farmers and peasants, he's been part of many processions blessing the fields since he could walk, seen as a good omen. As a child, he could only listen, never speak, much like an animal.

Gefen is silent and reserved, believing it's rude to speak up or object. He only knows how to obey, first his father, then the priest, and finally his mother.

Gefen's favorite meal is polenta made from oatmeal, rye, and wheat, prepared by his mother during the winter when snow blankets the fields and drifts into the village on the mountainside with perpetually snowy peaks. When the wind blows, he always feels a voice coming from the mountain, stirring unease in the hearts of the villagers, making them more withdrawn, apathetic, and aggressive.

Gefen often gets beaten by his father, and he accepts it, viewing it as normal and just. He sees himself as the property of his father and God, much like the rest of his family. In the village of Fossato, during times of famine, a child is occasionally sacrificed by being buried alive among the vineyards during a procession.

Gefen keeps a lovage plant in his pockets, a flower used to beautify the house and the votive shrine along the roads. Gefen also uses it to mark the spots where children are buried alive in the fields, creating a biodegradable tombstone. The last child Gefen had to bury during the procession was his eight-year-old younger brother. His brother struggled and cried, uncovering himself from the earth, and Gefen was forced to smash his head with the shovel until he stopped, only writhing in spasms in the makeshift grave. Then he calmly buried him alive. Gefen's shovel still has the tip encrusted with blood.

Gefen doesn't know the names of the months, and the days mean nothing to him. Like the other villagers, his life is marked by the saints. Each saint's day dictates an action, from planting corn, which could not be planted after Saint George's feast, to tilling the soil, to harvesting the fruits of their labor. Carrots are planted on Saint Anne's day because they grow well. Turnips are planted on Saint Lawrence's day. A calendar dictated by the saints.

In the house, Gefen has an attic packed with baskets of all kinds of beans and powdered medicinal plants, a stash of food to survive the entire winter. Gefen sleeps on an old, torn mattress in the attic, sharing the same bed with his younger siblings.

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Village of Fossato: A mountain village with brick houses and stone-carved storage, lush with gardens and steep, high staircases, centered around a church from which all village roads branch out. The villagers are silent, especially the children when with their parents. They are quick to anger, venting with shoves or punches. No one cares about the injured, and no one reacts when they suffer violence. Moments of irrational rage followed by apathy.

The people of Fossato see the land as sacred, a gift for body and soul, yet they are extremely ruthless. This mirrors their harsh view of God and life, seeing existence as a penance for original sin, marked by suffering until death, and ultimately returning to the earth.