of nurture’s wildness: a novella (book 4, ch. 4)

by Tom Stuckey

IV

An international, leading monk was on the TV screen. All the other channels were showing the news, reporting on the world’s important affairs, mostly varying degrees of disaster. Tate had made it into some of their segments, but only briefly. The turnover rate for dictators was very frequent (to say the least). The monk was giving a talk at a world peace conference, and his big eyes made him seem so many things all at once. He talked in a soft and clear tone but also had a good emphasis to his voice. "There are many beautiful moments in the world; there is beautiful woman, and beautiful man. There is man who loyally builds the roads that progress strives down; there is woman who cares for the sick, the sick who smile when they realise the truth of it all and pass on their compassion all around. Most of these men and women love one another through it all, but it wouldn't be a world in balance if there were not the ones who take without reason, other than for the need of power over what they cannot control in themselves, and fear of what others will take from them. It is no use to join in, for the world will clear all debts of desire, it is nature’s way. The only way to be with the love of nature is to nurture what is inside you; for there is both the destructive and the Divine parts of the universe inside you."

Gloria turned off the TV, which was an old relic on a stand like the ones that used to be used in schools, wheeled in and out of cupboards as situations dictated. James had heard of the news of Lisa's death, and that of her victim, but wanted to see it with his own eyes. So, it was true: She had died, and he was alive and felt like a coward, the part the monk had just talked about, the needing to be nurtured was more difficult than the words that were stated; the anger in James grew.

Gloria had planned a sort of memorial dinner this evening for all of the residents, but mainly for Gary and for James to get reacquainted, and to mourn the loss of a daughter and a sister, respectfully.

The sun hung in the last bits of air for a surprisingly long time this evening, but when it did finally go down, the night was as dark as it could be. Gloria had set the table nicely with lots of candles along its length. The brothers were behind the partition and were in a surprisingly jovial mood. In fact, for all the residents who had chosen to attend—mostly the ones who had found it in themselves to dig deep and give it a go, regardless. James had found a way to be in the same room as Gary, mainly to obtain forgiveness. Some days were more difficult than others, as Gary found his bearings the best a man could after so many years in a stupor. James knew that Gary was a sick man, a broken man, just like himself, but sometimes he could not put aside the harms that had been bestowed on him. They sat opposite to one another across the table, in true Gloria fashion. 

"I thought it best to gather tonight, in a coming together for Gary and James, but also because it’s what makes being human special. You have all watched the news, and can see how torn everything is, but here at the centre we like to do things differently. Maybe it's delusional, arrogant, and even against nature, but we are all here because we believe in freedom of choice. Choices that can even sometimes mean dying prematurely and suddenly. So, with that, I think Gary would like to say a few words." Gloria nodded to Gary as he shuffled to his feet. "I don't quite know what to say, hmm, I am not good with talking in public, so I'll just cut right to the point. I have decided to die tonight. James, I'd like to say a lot of things to you that I can feel need to be said, but I cannot remember what there are. I want you to be my executioner, James"

James looked up at the old man’s face and saw his brokenness, all the fear that was inside that he could not get out. He began to cry, for he knew that he was never meant to—or could have—a father, ever. The two strangers that shared so much in blood, bone, and fibre—but were so completely cut off by a sort of death—could have been ghosts. James thought about screaming at him, but what? He thought about taking him by the collar and shaking him, but why? In the end. he just simply stared at his face hoping, somehow, something would be revealed and nodded. Gary was almost permanently part of the mountain, almost part of its wind.  

The food came, and it came in great quantities; there was roasted chickens, potatoes of various kinds, vegetables and gravy, and desserts of all colours. Despite the impending death that was about to take place, people laughed and talked and got along. It was a strange place on top of the mountain and quite hard to believe that it even existed, amongst peaks and weather that both nourished and destroyed. Whilst the inhabitants took what they needed from it, humbly, for the short period of time they were there, eventually all became part of it forever, again.

*Read Tom Stuckey’s next installment of Of Nurture’s Wildness (Book V) on November 18, 2025, at 6PM CST.

Photo of Tom Stuckey

BIO: Tom is a writer from Devon in England.  His work can be found at A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Bristol Noir, Nut House Press, and Pulp Magazine. He is the author of The Canary in the Dream is Dead and The Sun Marches upon Us All. Learn more about Tom Stuckey at www.tomstuckey.com.