Read Coming Attractions for Free Online Page A

serious face back
to the papers and wrote a few lines. Cara was keen to ask questions, move the
dialogue along, but she sensed that Freya operated at a different pace and
forced herself to be quiet.
    “When you’re eleven,” the girl
finally said, “you sometimes forget why you have to take care of things all the
time. Sometimes you want to just go and play. Sometimes you just wish you could
spend all your savings on movie tickets or an iPad. If I write it all down, it’s
easier to remember.”
    Cara’s heart clenched at the girl’s
solemn eyes and the weight of her perceived responsibilities. For several
seconds, Cara’s mind was a rush of possible directions to take the
conversation. Most pressing was her own need to know why Freya felt so
compelled to burden herself so heavily. But, she knew the strand of trust she
was developing with the little girl was fragile and tenuous.
    She also kept in mind that her
goal, in the first instance, was to provide Freya with an escape route. Some
way to lift a little of the pressure she was under, some means of allowing her
some release. She didn’t need to dig up all the ins and outs to facilitate that
outcome. But somehow, Cara didn’t think simply telling the girl to lighten up
would work either.
    For a moment, Cara felt adrift.
What did she really have to offer this girl? What did she have to offer anyone?
She was a roving drifter, a freelancer, a nomad, a motorcyclist… Not a lot of substance there…
    But she was also a storyteller, she
realized. Telling stories was both her passion and her livelihood. In writing Lost Treasure, Cara herself had recently
discovered that telling stories could be a powerful balm.
    So, she cleared her throat and told
the girl a story she had once heard from her father—
    “A
young girl went to the foreman of a logging crew and asked for a job. ‘Let’s
see you fell this tree,’ the foreman said. The girl quickly and skilfully cut
down a massive tree.”
    “Did
she give thanks to Gaia first?” Freya asked.
    “Of
course,” Cara assured.
    The
child nodded her approval.
    Cara
continued , “ Impressed, the foreman
gave her a job. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday rolled by. On Thursday
afternoon, the foreman approached the girl and told her to pick up her pay
check. Startled, the girl replied, ‘I thought you paid on Friday.’ ‘Normally we
do,’ said the foreman. ‘But we’re letting you go today because you’ve fallen
behind. Our daily charts show that you’ve dropped from first place on Monday to
last place today.’ ‘But I’m a hard worker,’ the young girl objected. ‘I arrive
first, leave last, and I have even worked through my breaks!’ The foreman,
sensing the girl’s integrity, thought for a minute and then asked, ‘Have you
been sharpening your axe?’ She replied, ‘No, sir, I’ve been working too hard to
take time for that!’”
    Freya
was listening, entranced. Cara wondered when the girl had last let herself do
something as simple as listen to a story. It made her heart ache to see this
girl taking life so seriously.
    “Our
lives are like that, Freya,” Cara said. “We sometimes get so busy that we don’t
take time to ‘sharpen the axe.’  These days, it’s easy to be busier than
ever—but less happy.”
    It was
as though a lightbulb went off over Freya’s head. In one heartbeat, the girl’s
eyes brightened and a smile tugged at her lips.
    “There’s
nothing wrong with working hard and being responsible. But we have to remember
not to get so busy that we overlook the truly important things in life, like
taking time to play, read, hang out with our friends and family, and just have
fun. We all need time to relax, to think and meditate, to learn and grow. If we
don’t take time to sharpen the axe, we become dull and unproductive.”
    The
little girl was smiling outright now and Cara had a real sense that her parable
had somehow breached the child’s defences and made an