Have you ever woke up depressed? It kinda grows over the course of the day and by 4:30 you're sitting in your room, your eyes running over some book from your floor while your mind drifts in morose nothingness like the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Yeah... those suck.
The idea for it was prompted by my friend The Novelist who was talking a few days ago about these transcripts from the 20's or whenever when we first figured out cataracts surgery and a ton of people got to see for the first time. Somebody came up with the idea of writing down everything they said about sight and the visual world. Apparently, one of these ex-blind people, a kid I think, talked about "the tree with lights in it" in regards to the translucency of a tree's leaves and how, if you look at it right, it looks like the tree is creating its own light.
So, I decided that I would tell a story about a tree that created its own light.
We were sitting out on The Novelist's porch, watching the lightening over the sunset. Conversation had come to a halt, and I decided to tell The Novelist my idea. Somehow, that turned into me telling the whole story. These things happen.
In the story, the main character was a man whose family had always been the guardians of this magical tree. He had grown up hearing and reading stories of the tree's mystical powers, the heroes who had used the tree to do incredible things, and the many rituals and miracles associated with this tree.
Eventually, it fell to him to cultivate the tree, which meant waiting for someone to come, seeking to use the tree's healing power, and helping them. He had never seen the tree do anything extraordinary, except for the lights, which were nearly invisible when the sun was out, and were best viewed at sunset or sunrise. It was more of a glow than a shine. Either way, his faith in the tree was immovable. And, he waited.
After a time, a woman came into his village from a long way away. She had been journeying for three months, and she carried with her a small bundle. She came to the man and told him that she had come for two things. First, she had come on behalf of her village, whose staple crop had been decimated by a new disease. They had stories of the healing tree that could work miracles, so she was sent to see if it held any hope. Second, she had been chosen because of the bundle she carried with her. It was a baby, her son, who had died just three months ago. Before he was born, it was prophesied that he would be a great and terrible (in the arcane sense) warrior who would change the course of history. After his death, the woman had wrapped the body and preserved it with spices. She came to see if the tree could bring back her son, the prophesied great man.
The main character researched his library of the history of the tree, going as far back as written language. He found that, yes, the fields could be healed, and the child could be raised from the dead, but only one. To heal the fields, leaves must be plucked from the highest point in the tree, ground into a paste, dried into a powder, and scattered over the fields. Then, the fields must be untouched for a year. The next year, there would be a large crop and from then after, the crops would be as normal and never fall prey to the same disease. To raise the boy from the dead, the tree must be tapped and the sap must be spread over the boy and be allowed to sit for a week, then the boy must be washed in running water.
The problem was, once a the required leaves had been picked, or the required sap had been tapped, the lights on the tree would go out for three years, and the tree would be, simply, another tree.
The woman was torn by this decision. Was the life of her child worth the death of a village? No, the entire village wouldn't die, but some would. And, those who survived would have to move, scattering the village's inhabitants and effectively creating a ghost town.
The main character refused to believe that the tree was limited in such a way. He promised the woman that he would find a way. He searched through the libraries, looking for some story that contained a hint, a clue to a solution. He found stories in these volumes that surpassed any thoughts of miracles or dreams of the impossible that he'd ever had before. And yet, he still hadn't found anything that could help.
As he read and researched, the tree seemed to take on a new life for him. As he read stories of ancient heroes, the tree he envisioned in his mind was huge, with roots that went deep into the mountain, quite possibly supporting the mountain itself. The branches of the tree were large enough to hold the entire world, and it shined so bright that one had to cover their eyes to even approach and touch the holy bark.
This tree in his mind had very little in common with the tree that he tended.
After a week, the woman made her decision. She could no longer wait, she said. She would sacrifice the one for the sake of many. The main character attempted to dissuade her. Give him just a few more days, he said, he was sure he could find something. She wouldn't listen.
Reluctantly, the main character helped the woman prepare her little bundle for burial. They anointed him, prayed for him, wrapped him tight, and at the woman's request and with the main character's permission, they buried him at the foot of the tree in a small grave.
That night, the main character climbed the tree and plucked the leaves. He made the paste and spread it on some hides to dry in the sun. The next day, the woman left.
Remember this point, because I will reference it later.
The main character went back to his house and spent the next two days reading the ancient stories. Reading about miracles. After those two days he fell asleep in the library.
He dreamt. In the dream he was kneeling at the feet of the great tree, the one that existed in his mind. It was huge. Birds of all kinds lived in its branches, and there were clouds hovering around the very top of it. In the tree's branches were people, hundreds of people. Every race and nation that the main character knew of was there, they were talking and resting. The tree shined brightly. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see standing behind him a man, tall, with dark hair, and scars covering his face. He was dressed for battle and he carried a large sword at his side. The warrior turned to the main character and said, "Thank you."
The next morning there was a great commotion in the village. Everyone had heard the noise of a boy running through the village the night before, and he created such a racket to wake nearly everybody. One villager had gone outside to see who this boy was and to send him home. When he approached the boy, he saw that the boy's skin was glowing faintly. At first he thought it was just the moon reflecting off the boy, but there was no moon that night. The man asked the boy who he was and told him that he should go home and rest. The boy said that he was home already. The man asked who he was again. The boy said, "I am free."
Upon hearing the story, the main character ran up the mountain path to the tree. The path had become overgrown slightly, and it took him longer than usual to make it too the foot of the tree. When he got there, he saw the little grave. It looked untouched, but he had to know. He dropped to his knees and began digging with his hands. Eventually, his fingers scraped against some cloth. He dug faster. He reached in his hands and pulled out the blanket that the child had been wrapped in, but the body was gone.
He cried.
So, that's the ending I told that nights on the balcony. But I only told that ending because of the company. My girlfriend was there along with another female friend who far prefers happy endings. Remember the part where I told you remember because I'd reference it later? The real ending begins there.
In this ending, the woman leaves, and the main character goes back to his home. He spends the next few weeks in his library, reading everything that there is, putting his favorite stories to memory. Every night, he dreams of the great tree, the one in his mind. He begins to neglect the real tree, visiting less and less frequently. Eventually he stops going all together. Three years later, the lights return to the tree, but no one is there to witness it.
The path to the tree is covered by vegetation. The little grave is left untended by anyone but the tree, and the main character dreams of a God that never was.
That's the real ending. That's what really happened. Little boys don't come back to life. The keepers of holy secrets don't get to witness their miracles, or even know if they work. The sacred tree with real, albeit limited, power is ignored for a more satisfying fantasy. And we forget. We always forget.
Posts
