The incomplete tale (Story)

CHAPTER 1
He was sitting down on the mud with his legs cris crossed, his right elbow on his thigh and his head resting on his right palm. His young countenance bore brown eyes that were gleaming with a joy similar to the pleasure of encountering something extraordinarily beautiful for the first time. He couldn't take his young 10 year old eyes off from what was in front of him. They were glued on that little puffy thing! 

It seemed to him as a flower but not of the usual kind. It was different. This flower had colored itself white while the others carried vibrant colors. Among the specials all around the garden, he had just noticed an ordinary and it made him smile. That little ordinary white puff was the conformance of how human can the nature be!
The flower seemed so soft. He wanted to keep that puff in his hands to feel its softness but was reluctant to pluck it as he might damage its beauty.

His eyes continued to watch the little white puff with awe until his mind's curiosity took over. In no time, he stood up and ran to his home, slammed the door open and called "Papa! Papa!"
Papa was in the kitchen,"What got you this time?"asked Papa.
"I need to show you something," he exclaimed with a breathy tone. He took hold of Papa's hand and dragged him out of the house.

The garden was just outside their home. It was very dear and precious to Papa. They entered the garden and Papa saw the greens as if he was watching them for the first time, again!
They meandered through the curved path along the lush greens that were a product of Papa's hard work. How proud was Papa for the greens and the colors his garden held! There were daffodils surrounding the path, gerbera, lily and solidaster could be found behind the daffodils, huge bushes of red and white roses were seen in-between and green hedges, perfectly cut as oceans waves, cornered the whole area. Every single plant, when once a sapling, was fed by Papa and now flaunted the colors it held. This was his kingdom.

The boy, already holding his Papa's hand, grabbed it hard and pulled him to sit down when they reached the right place. Papa sat down on his knees, his son cris crossed his legs and pointed to the little soft puff.
"What is this?", the 10 year old brain questioned, eyeing the little white ordinary among the colored specials.
Papa plucked out the puff, placed it in his hands and said,"People call it a dandelion."
"Why did you pluck it off Papa?" he asked, dejected.
"Because it's a weed", said Papa.
"It doesn't look like a weed. It's too beautiful to be one." he said, eyeing the puff.
"Oh yes yes! No doubt it's beautiful and that's why it's special", said Papa, while handing the puff over to his son, "they say you must blow on a dandelion puff and make a wish. Then say:
"Dandelion, puffs away,
Make my wish come true some day."

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He was still looking at the puff in his little hands. A little while ago it stood alive and now it laid lifeless in his hands. He wanted the warmth of his hands to give back life to the dandelion. The attempt was futile.
"Go on, make a wish", said papa, criss crossing his legs to sit down the same way as his son was sitting,"God has planted a wish in our garden just for you. Don't let this chance slip by."

The boy's eyes were still staring the dandelion in his little hands when he asked,"What should I ask for, Papa?"
"That's something that you should know."said Papa,"And the rule here is that you don't have to tell anybody about the wish. Not a single soul! If a second person finds it out then the wish might not get fulfilled."
He took his eyes off the lifeless dandelion, looked at Papa and asked,"Where is the wish sent?"
"Above the clouds!,"said Papa and turned his head up.
"To God?", he asked.
Papa smiled,"You can say that",he said, still looking up.
"You know Papa, I wonder why God resides above the clouds that I can't ever reach!",he said, looking at Papa.
Papa looked at him, pulled his cheeks and said," Then perhaps he's always around somewhere. Now c'mon, make a wish!"
He waited for a while to think and asked,"Papa, what if I don't make a wish and pose a question instead? Will it be answered just like the wishes come true?"

Papa was shocked. How bewildering yet beautiful was to listen such words from his son!
No wonder such simple yet subtle interpretations can be expected to emerge from no one but a creature that's something near to a child. Only a child has the wits to crack open the several adult-made boundaries.
Every now and then someone reminds you of who you were. And then, the only thing you want to become is what you had been! His son had just done the same.

Getting off from the pensive mood, Papa asked his son,"What's the question, my boy?"
"I won't tell, of course", he said,"You yourself told not to reveal the wish and I guess that's what I should do with my question as well." He stood up, clenched the dandelion in his fist, closed his eyes and, as how Papa could gather, was now asking a question. 

In a few seconds he opened his eyes and smiled at Papa.

Papa didn't say much.
One thing was sure. The question was pretty short.

CHAPTER 2

"You're working wrong, idiot!" she exclaimed. She never thought her best friend could do something as foolish as this. Asking a question over a dandelion was not supposed to be a thing of a 10 year old!
"How am I wrong?", he asked, trying to sound calm but there were some hints of insecurity covering his mind.
He and she, both were swinging in the park situated between their respective homes.
"You can't expect to get chocolate from a textile industry", she said, trying to swing higher. "The thing you have questioned upon is a wish granting factory. You need to go to the one that give answers."
He stopped his swing and while looking her swing harder, he  exclaimed,"But there's no object that take your questions."
"Questions are supposed to be taken by people. So a person can do that,"she said,"Like our teacher! She can do that."
"Do what?" he asked.
"Answer your question, dimwit!" she exclaimed.
"You're losing the point, idiot," he said,"They said wishes go straight to God. God considers the wish and grants them. I want God to answer the question. It's been a week now. I guess my question would have reached him by now. Then why isn't he answering?"

Silence took over for a while except for the creaky sound of the swing.
"Maybe you can try the father at our Church," she said," write a letter to him. He seems a genius at answering stuff."

This was great. He hopped out of the swing and ran towards his home.

She was expecting a thank you.
"Bye!"was the only word he said to her.

Some time later, the Church received a letter. 

SOME FINAL LINES TO MAKE THE TALE INCOMPLETE.

The Father of the Church stood there, the big statue of his lord above him.
A letter in his hands.
There, on the worn-out page of the letter, were scribbled words in a young boy's handwriting.
The words had ended with a question mark.

"Hello God, you there?"

A question that even the father could not gather courage to answer.
He stood there in the Church, the Christ's statue was casting a shadow over him as if trying to make him feel its presence and luring him to say yes.
He stood still, pondering on something that he believed in and how he couldn't confirm it to a 10 year old.

As for the boy, a letter from the Church never came.
Hence, nor has the answer.