by Emmett Swan
He and his brothers had turned into trees, rooted on the bank of the flowing creek.
Nineteen
Jessica stared out the window of Uncle Basil’s car as he and Aunt Noreen drove her and Riley back to Connaree Manor. It was nighttime, but Jessica could clearly see the cascade of heavy raindrops coming down in the moonlight, striking her window and moving sideways with the wind. The storm created a steady, dull roar as the rain drummed against the car’s roof.
They had attended an art opening for the local high school, and it had not gone well. The quality of the art was what she had expected. Most of it was unaccomplished and shallow, the artists more enthusiastic than talented. But a few of the exhibited works were decent. As one would find at any high school, some of the aspiring artists were quite skilled.
But it was the friends of the artists, gathered to view the exhibits, that made the evening a disaster. They were snarky, petty, and downright unfriendly. As she and Riley walked through the exhibition with Aunt Noreen and Uncle Basil, looking over the art and being introduced to one teenager after another, she could just make out giggles and quiet remarks from others standing nearby. Riley picked up on it too. As the evening wore on, she grew more annoyed with the comments and started making her own derogatory remarks, with Riley following suit. She didn’t care if the others overheard them. In fact, she had felt pleased whenever she noticed a sour face or two within earshot of what she had to say.
Aunt Noreen, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, turned around and looked at Jessica.
“Jessica, you’re the oldest. I expect you to be more responsible. To make more of an effort at getting along with the local kids. Give Riley an example to follow.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Noreen, but those kids weren’t very friendly.”
“Jerks is what they were,” added Riley.
“Those are good kids!” Aunt Noreen still managed to sound warm. “Many of them are friends with Emma and Molly. Do you really think you made a genuine effort to get along with them?”
“I just don’t think they like us,” Jessica replied. “We’re Americans so they make fun of us and our culture.”
“Everybody here seems so full of themselves,” said Riley. “They think they’re better than everyone else. It gets annoying.”
A bolt of lightning cast a brief flash of light into the car. Jessica glimpsed Uncle Basil’s face. He had been quiet the whole drive home, but his expression was grim.
“Have you ever thought they think the same thing about you?” asked Aunt Noreen after the rumble of thunder died down. “When I first came here I realized that a lot of people in Ireland think that Americans believe they are superior to everyone else. That simply because we’re Americans, everything we do is better. Over time, I grew to like the way things are done here. It’s different, but it’s just as good.”
“But Noreen, it’s not like that. We tried to be friendly.”
“You did?” asked Uncle Basil, his sudden question startling Jessica. “When?”
“I don’t know,” replied Jessica. “I tried to have a conversation with the artist that drew the dragons.”
“Did you like her work?” asked Aunt Noreen.
“Not really. It was pretty silly. But of course I didn’t tell her that.”
“But you did tell the artist next to her, and I’m pretty sure the dragon artist overheard you,” said Riley.
“Riles!” said Jessica, aghast at her brother’s betrayal.
“Sorry Jess. Just trying to be honest. But everyone made comments and I’m sure the artists overheard them too. Art shows are like that. Their friends were the problem. They were the rude ones. We could hear what they were saying about us and they didn’t care.”
“What I’m trying to say,” began Aunt Noreen as the car pulled up to the front of Connaree Manor, “is that because you are from another country, you need to try harder to fit in. Make more of an effort to be friendly.”
“Do they have to be so judgmental?” asked Jessica.
“Enough!” burst out Uncle Basil, his voice angry. “Everyone inside.”
“Do you want the umbrella, dear?” asked Aunt Noreen.
Uncle Basil looked out at the rain and shook his head. “A little cool water would be welcome.” They both jumped out of the car and dashed through the front door of the manor and into the foyer. Jessica and Riley quietly followed them, getting soaked by the rain.
Jessica felt like a child as she stood in the foyer, her head bowed, brushing the droplets of rain off her forearms. Uncle Basil pointed to the living room.
“Both of you, in there,” he said, his voice stern. Jessica and Riley went in and sat down. Uncle Basil followed and began pacing back and forth, his gait angry.
“My family has lived in this parish for generations. The teenagers you taunted tonight are the children of my friends, people I have known for many, many years. In fact, their grandparents were friends of my parents. Yet I bring in my kin to meet them and they are insulted. And I say insult because that’s exactly what you two did. I could hear the things you said as easily as they could.”
“That’s not fair!” cried Jessica, standing up. “They said things about us first.”
“Sit down or I will not hesitate to punish you!” Jessica sat back down. “As I have said, you have insulted the children of my friends. No excuses. They aren’t going to be like your friends back home. This is Ireland. Things are different.” He stopped pacing and threw his hands up in the air. “Don’t you see your actions were selfish and inconsiderate?”
“What should we do when they say mean things?” asked Riley.
“If somebody says something unkind, just ignore it,” replied Uncle Basil, his previously stern voice softening a note. “They’re feeling you out. Testing you. And both of you failed miserably. Neither one of you is making any effort to get along.” He paced a few laps back and forth, scratching the back of his neck. “What I think is that you two don’t really want to be here and you’re taking it out on those kids.”
Jessica bowed her head and said nothing. She knew he was right and wished her parents hadn’t made them come to Ireland. She didn’t try hard to get along because she would never see these people again. And of course Riley would follow her lead. But still, Charlotte and Alicia were just rude. They weren’t testing anybody. They were being mean and that was plain to see.
“They’re just jealous,” said Jessica, who felt the need to say something, even if she didn’t really believe it.
“No, they’re not jealous,” said Uncle Basil, now with his hands on his hips. “They don’t want to be Americans. I promise you, they would rather be Irish. But the problem is both of you think you’re superior because you’re Americans.”
“They don’t even have a McDonald’s around here,” said Riley.
“Blast you Riley!” Uncle Basil shouted, his face flushed red. “Blast you both.” Jessica had never seen him that way. He shook his head and resumed pacing. “No more discussion. Both of you, up to your rooms while I figure what to do with you.” He glowered at them. “Now!”
Jessica and Riley hopped up and ambled up the stairs to their respective rooms. Jessica closed her door and sat on her bed, angry and hurt. Tears ran down her face. She couldn’t believe she was being treated that way at her age. She wasn’t a kid.
She reached for a stack of paper and a pen and started on a new poem. She had just finished the first line when there was a soft rap on the door. Aunt Noreen came into the room and sat on the bed beside her.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
Jessica nodded. “I’ve never seen Uncle Basil like that.”
“Don’t worry, dear. He’s protective of his home, where he has so many deep roots. He’ll be back to normal tomorrow. You’ll see.”
Jessica slowly nodded. “I hope so. Aunt Noreen, thanks for coming to see about me, but I would rather just be by myself right now. Do you mind?”
“I understand.” Aunt Noreen
stood and placed her hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “Just let me know if you need anything,” she said and left the room.
Jessica looked at her unfinished poem, angrily balled up the piece of paper, and tossed it into the garbage.
Twenty
Jessica took a seat at her window bench and gazed out at the moon-drenched night. The rain clouds had moved on, leaving a freshly washed full moon and brilliant stars. She raised the window and let the rain-cooled night air seep into the room. It was fragrant with early summer. The familiar croaks of frogs drifted in with the breeze.
She wondered if Curtis were up there with the stars. Wasn’t that where heaven was supposed to be? What would he be doing right now? God, she missed home. She thought about what they might be doing had Curtis lived. Going out to a movie maybe? Double-dating with friends? Maybe playing video games.
She heard soft footfalls in the hall and Riley came in without knocking. He plopped himself down beside her on the window bench and quietly peered at the full moon.
“Boy, that was some shit,” he said after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah. Uncle Basil was pissed.” She thought about the angry scowl on his face and bit her lip, tears threatening to resurface. “Why does he have to take their side? We’re family.”
“I know. Uncle Basil was scary.”
“They treated us like kids. Sending us up to our rooms.”
“The people here are dicks. I want to go home, Jess.” Riley looked near tears as well.
“What if horrid old Gerald hears about what happened? It’ll make him happy.”
“Yep,” said Riley. “Like I said many times, this place sucks.”
She folded her hands on the windowsill and rested her chin on her knuckles. “The moon is so bright,” she said, looking out across the pasture.
Riley nodded. “The stars don’t look real.”
“Hey Riley, let’s go to our special place.”
Riley perked up. “To our forest? Now?”
“Yes, now. Look out there. The moon is so bright. We can see where we’re going. We’re in trouble already, so what do we have to lose?”
Riley surveyed the pale landscape and nodded. “Yeah, okay, I’ll do it. But how do we get out of the house?”
“Just sneak out.”
Riley shook his head. “They might hear us if we go out the front door. As far as we know, Uncle Basil could still be up working in his office or something.” He pointed to the tree branch just a couple of feet from the window. “That’s our ticket.” He stuck his head out the window and examined the brick ledge just below the windowsill. It wasn’t much of a ledge—just one brick wide. “If we stand here,” he said, pointing to the ledge, “while holding on to the window sash, we should be able to reach the branch easy.”
Jessica looked at the ledge and the tree branch. She wasn’t sure. “Show me.”
Riley stuck both his legs through the window and sat on the sill. He eased his weight onto the brick ledge and, while holding on to the window with one hand, grabbed the limb with ease. He stepped on a lower branch while holding the higher one for balance. Then, keeping a hold of the upper branch, he scampered down to the trunk.
“It’s easy,” he said in a loud whisper.
“Okay,” said Jessica. “I’m coming.” She felt the brick ledge with her hand. It was still wet from the rain, but she managed to overcome her apprehension. She sat on the windowsill, placed her foot on the ledge, and grabbed the upper limb. She then confidently navigated the lower one to where Riley was standing.
“Good job, Jess. You’d make a good tomboy if you weren’t so girly.”
“It was easy.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Riley’s eyes were large and bright in the moonlight. It was obvious he was excited about sneaking out. Jessica felt pretty excited herself. They were making their escape.
They easily scampered down a few limbs to reach the ground and headed off across the pasture they had already traversed several times in the light of day. Though the grassy field was damp, it was fairly level and the full moon was bright, so they had no problem reaching the dirt lane, clearly visible in the light. And once they reached the wooden bridge, they navigated the familiar path down the side of the little gorge and reached the creek.
The sandy creek bed glowed white in the moonshine. Since they knew it was mostly free of rocks and sticks, they had no concerns about taking off their shoes stepping in. The water was cold from the recent rainfall but not cold enough to be unpleasant. They waded down the stream, turned the bend, passed through the cleft, and reached the familiar mossy bank that marked the boundary of their secret retreat. After climbing up and stepping into their enchanted forest, they took a look around.
The bright moonlight filtered into the space between the leaves, giving the whole scene an appearance different from what they were used to. Dark shadows loomed everywhere. Jessica looked at Riley and smiled.
“We made it. Our little piece of paradise.”
“It looks different at night.” Riley’s eyes were still big.
“You’re not scared, are you?” Jessica punched Riley lightly on his upper arm.
“I’d much rather be out here than back at that musty house.” Despite the lightness of Jessica’s punch, Riley rubbed his arm while his eyes darted around the scene.
As their vision adjusted to the low light, most of the details became visible. The trees shimmered as their leaves reflected moonlight. Whimsical strings of mist dangled from the branches. It could have been the haunt of playful pixies.
They sat down beside their favorite trees and leaned back.
“Wouldn’t it be nice just to sleep out here?” Jessica asked, pulling her hair behind her ears.
Riley bit his fingernail. “Okay, let’s do it.”
“Nah, we’d better not. It might upset everyone.”
“Who cares?”
“Don’t you think we’ve already upset them enough?”
Riley shrugged. “It’s not our fault.”
Jessica began twirling a loose curl with her finger, gazing up at the moon. “But maybe Uncle Basil is right. Maybe we don’t want to be here so we aren’t trying very hard to get along.”
“So you’re saying it is our fault?”
“I don’t know,” said Jessica, crinkling her nose as she thought about the events of the evening. “I just wish Curtis were here. That’d make that bitchy Charlotte jealous. But who cares.” She closed her eyes. “Let’s just be here for now, in our magical place.”
Putting her annoyances aside, she managed to relax, letting her mind drift to her favorite memories of home.
Her reverie was interrupted when she felt something prod her in the middle of her back. Could the tree have moved? Then she felt it again. Her heart lurched. She jumped up and peered up at the tree.
“What is it Jess? Did an ant bite you?”
“The tree!” Jessica cried. “I think it moved!”
“What?” Riley asked. He waved his hand at her dismissively. “It’s just the wind.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It didn’t feel like the wind. It felt like…like it really moved. The whole trunk!”
“You know, you’re starting to worry me.” Riley bit his nail again.
“I felt it poke me in the back,” exclaimed Jessica. “Something weird is going on here.”
Riley jumped up and frowned at his tree. “Mine moved too!” He backed away.
Jessica and Riley stood side by side, holding hands and gawking in stunned amazement. In the bright moonlight their three favorite trees were in motion. Their branches swayed up and down, and their roots, like wooden feet, took small steps. The trees were alive.
II
Part Two
Twenty-One
As the trees continued to move in unnatural ways, Jessica and Riley backed toward the creek. Jessica’s heart pounded and she felt Riley’s tight grip on her hand.
“They’re alive!” she gasped
.
“Let’s go Jess. Let’s run.”
“Please stay,” said a voice. It was a strange voice, full of the wind and the night. And soft. Almost a whisper. Jessica hesitated.
“Who said that?” she asked. It was always possible someone was hiding behind the tree trunks playing a trick on them. “Come out so we can see you.” Jessica tried to keep a steady voice.
“Jess! Let’s go!” Riley’s face was white, and his eyes were as big as saucers.
“I am…Conall.” The voice was slow. “We mean you…no harm.”
“But where are you? Come out,” Jessica insisted again.
“I am here. Standing…before you.”
Slowly, a great branch swooped down to the ground, and the tree bent over slightly as if it were formally greeting them.
Riley clasped Jessica’s arm tightly and began tugging. “Jess!”
“And this,” continued the tree, sweeping the long branch toward the other unique-looking trees, “is Laughlin and Meyler. We are the Kyne brothers.”
Jessica recognized that name. Kyne. It was the name of the lane that led to Connaree Manor.
“But you’re trees! How can you speak? Or move?” she asked, brandishing the old sword they found in the moss. She suspected it had to be some kind of trick, but a really good one.
“The moonlight,” said one of the other trees, pointing a branch skyward. It sounded younger, but its voice was also kind. “It is bright, so the spell…weakens. We can move, but little more.”
“Soon, we will become still again,” said the tree named Conall.
“A spell? You mean magic?” Jessica asked.