The Whispers of a Tree

A smokestack rumbled from the depths of the forest and into the sky, a pollutant to the natural beauties of the sunset. The wind hissed through the open door of a lodge deep in the woods, letting out the heat from the fireplace.

The heavy thud of an axe echoed through the forest, followed by the tumble of a pair of logs. The axe swung again, drowning out the mumbles of a boy.

The boy stood in the open doorway, staring at the back of his father as he swung the axe down again, unsure if he should repeat what he’d said. He needed to be heard this time. Far too often had his father ignored his words.

The axe swung again into the tree stump, this time remaining in its place. The boy’s father straightened his body and hesitated before turning to his son with a look of distaste.

     “I will not repeat myself, boy,” he said, pointing aggressively at the child. “The decision has been made.”

     The boy gritted his teeth knowing there was no sense in arguing. His father was not a diplomatic man.

     “And don’t think to go to your mother,” his father continued with a sense of where his son’s mind was headed. “We have already discussed the matter. Do not think I made this decision alone.”

His father yanked the axe from the tree and looked back to his son, not seeing the black ooze pour from the tree’s wound.

“Besides, she is headed to town and won’t be back till the morrow.”

     The boy turned in a frustrated huff and quickly walked away from his father, his jaw clenched tightly and with nothing but rage on his mind. His father watched with suppressed emotion as his last child walked off into the woods.

     “Where will you run to this time? Shall I find you huddled alone and in the dark again tonight?” His father shouted from behind him. “You’re not above us, boy! This livelihood cannot be managed alone!”

     With a shake of his head, his father returned to cutting the logs. The boy ignored his father’s words and headed deeper into the trees. He could hear the heavy thuds long after his father was out of view. They synced to his heartbeat, and he lost himself in the sound.

     The boy found his usual spot by the golden flower tree and clear water rock pond. With darkened thoughts, he settled between the branches, huffing with frustration. He stared deeply into the motionless water, wishing he could break the calmness. An image in his mind showed him smashing the water with pleasurable rage.

     “I told you he would not listen,” whispered the golden flower tree. “I told you to wait.”

     “The man is a fool,” spat the boy. “Does he not see I’m only trying to help the family?”

     “You do not understand the weight of a child upon a man’s heart.”

     “What do you know?” Shouted the boy. “You speak with such wisdom and with such promises, and yet it has left me with nothing!”

     “If you had only been patient, child, and you had let them see your growth,” whispered the tree. “They would have suggested it.”

     “I did exactly what you told me! What a fool I was, listening to a tree.”

     “Do not be angry, child,” whispered the tree. “I have one final piece of advice to fix all the wrongs upon you.”

     “Oh? And what is this magical advice?”

     “Come closer and I shall tell you.”

     That night the boy walked from his father’s lodge with a blood-stained axe. He looked up upon the full moon’s glow; bathed in blood and lunar light. An image in his mind showed him cutting up his father with pleasurable rage.

     The boy threw his father’s corpse at the flower tree’s roots.

     “I took your advice,” the boy said to the tree. “But I don’t see how this helps me.”

     “My child,” whispered the tree as its roots moved towards the boy’s father. “You have given yourself the greatest gift of all.”

     “What gift is this?” Asked the boy as he dropped the axe and stepped closer to the tree.

     “Freedom.”

     The tree’s roots began to dig their way into the corpse’s skin. Sustenance drained from within the body and piped back through the roots, deflating it down to nothing but flesh and bones.

     “What use is that if I have nowhere to go?”

     “You have the whole world,” whispered the tree.

The tree’s roots began to pull the deflated corpse down into the dirt and muck between its roots and trunk. The muffled sound of crunching bones could be heard from within.

“You are only a child. There are many things left to experience.”

     “What am I supposed to do?” Yelled the boy with frustration. “Walk to town? Build a life for myself?”

     “I can help you, child,” a lone branch bearing a single golden flower lowered from above.

The flower’s teacup tipped as it came down, and a single blotch of black ooze dripped and steamed against the dirt.

“Drink this,” whispered the tree.

     The boy hesitantly reached out toward the flower. The golden petals sparkled in the full moon’s glow, lightly vibrating to the deep gurgling contained within the teacup.

     “Take it. It will grant you all your dreams.”

     The boy took the flower and hesitantly brought it to his lips. The scent of brimstone overwhelmed his senses as he held the petals at his mouth. It seared his nostrils and made it difficult for him to see. He closed his eyes tightly and drank the thick, lumpy fluid, immediately coughing in pain as it burned his throat.

     “You will find all you ever wanted now, child,” the tree whispered as its roots crept toward the boy’s feet. “You will never be alone again.”

     “What was that?” The boy coughed violently. He reeled over and retched a black fluid upon the ground. “What did you do to me?”

     “I granted you freedom,” responded the tree as its roots wrapped tightly around the boy’s legs. “Freedom from the ones that hurt you,” the roots grabbed tighter as the boy began to panic.

He tried to scream, but a thick black sludge gurgled from his stomach instead. It came in lumps, splattering heavily down the boy’s chest.

“Freedom from the suffering of life and the sorrow of being unloved,” the roots began to pull the boy into the dirt and muck. “Do not fret, my child. I love you and I will never let you be alone ever again.”

     The boy disappeared, screaming, beneath the tree’s slithering roots. Once the roots settled, the boy was silenced, and only the hissing of the wind through the forest could be heard.