The Tree Goddess

by Tom Raimbault

It was such a peculiar environment to dream of in the late night hours during October's approach. Mary knelt on the ground on a warm, spring day while planting flowers along a garden that perimetered her backyard. Just then, Kelly emerged from around Daren's mausoleum.

  “Mary?” The call was urgent with a face of distress.

  Not aware that she was dreaming, Mary stood up and quickly approached her lost cousin. “Kelly, where have you been?”

  The face produced by Kelly had not been seen in many years. Only when Kelly was a young girl would such an expression of horrific distress be made after scraping her knee or some injury that terrifies a child. “Mary? I'm so sorry!” Her face contorted as it shifted to a sob.

  Being the nurturing woman that Mary is, she quickly embraced her cousin and offered a shoulder to cry on. “What is it? What happened?”

  “I'm just so sorry!”

  “Oh, it's okay. Whatever you did, it couldn't be that bad.”

  Obviously concerned, Mary secretly wondered what her cousin could have possibly done. And in the peculiar, mechanical laws of dream-world, Kelly suddenly escaped the comforting embrace so that she now stood before Mary and spoke in a clear warning, “Daren!”

  The announcement startled Mary awake in a tremor that could only be broken with the click of her nightstand lamp. Now sitting upright and trying to shake the dream's eerie sensation, she began to ponder the meaning. Such a cruel suggestion of her subconscious; a late night visit from Kelly could only mean one thing. And how much denial covered Mary? Perhaps the dream was only a revelation of something she already knew of Daren.

  Only 4:21 am, Mary had nearly 2 hours of sleep remaining before awakening for work. And she wasn't about to telephone Daren over a silly dream. He'd kill her over a late night call, especially when rest was needed to make sales at whatever biomedical convention he attended that week. Aside from that, asking her husband a question or two in person would serve a better gauge of his honesty. Mary could only turn off the light, close her eyes and hope for another dream or two (not of Kelly) before awakening for work.

  * * *

  Silent suspicion only stews within. Fortunately for Mary, she was a well-grounded person and kept further suspicions from flaring while speaking on the phone throughout the week with Daren. Oh, she'd ask a bothersome question such as, “So how was your night?” or “Did you go anywhere in the evening for entertainment?” But his answers were mostly boring, suggesting that he ate dinner alone and watched TV in the hotel room. Is that all his life was, selling some CAT scan machine during the day while eating at the hotel restaurant, alone, in the evening? How long can one endure tiresome hours of watching whatever paid programming a hotel room had to offer? Daren was the sort of man who could not stay in one place for too long. Extended hours being confined to indoors would certainly cause the man to grow irritable. So what did Mary's husband do for entertainment?

  Daren came home the Friday afternoon of that week while Mary was still at the flower shop. To surprise his sorely, missed wife with a Friday night celebration of his return, Daren stopped at Lee's Chinese Tacos and Pizza.

  Lee's Chinese Tacos and Pizza is an interesting twist on our favorite, American fast foods. The dishes offered are somewhat similar to Mexican tacos and Italian pizzas, except they are better! It's literally chop suey on a taco or pizza! And don't forget the egg-foo-young burritos! The TV commercial that advertises the restaurant to Mapleview and surrounding areas features the proud, elderly, Chinese owner who speaks before the camera, “Lee's Chinese Tacos and Pizza is a healthy alternative to eating because you never see fat Chinese people!”

  Upon Mary's arrival home, she was surprised with two pizzas: a large chop suey and a large chow mein. Greeted by a loving kiss, Mary sat down at the candlelit table and pulled away at pizza that was infested with bean sprouts, water chestnuts and pea pods. She would have been happy with a regular cheese and sausage, but perhaps Daren was trying to eat healthy.

  Daren was in such a good mood, speaking of the successful week in Santa Fe, but also of how great it was to be home with his lovely wife. And they made love, beautiful as ever! It reminded Mary of how “made for each other” they truly were.

  In the hours past midnight while Daren lay beside her sleeping, Mary pulled out of the evening's first REM and watched her husband while thinking of their Friday night together. She recalled a strange vibration, almost deliberate of Daren that suggested any questions of suspicion would be inappropriate. It was almost a mental control, sort of a subliminal brainwashing. Most likely, this skill would have been acquired in the years of gaining trust from potential purchasers of biomedical equipment.

  So what was Daren thinking? What was he hiding? They were questions that nagged at Mary throughout the night while drifting in and out of dreams. By early morning, she awoke and head downstairs to brew coffee. Daren's little Friday night celebration of his return was over, and it was time for a long, overdue, heart-to-heart talk. In the additional two hours that her husband slept, Mary rehearsed all the scenarios thought of in response to one simple question of truth.

  Eventually his footsteps could be heard descending the stairs. Daren greeted his wife with a cheerful “good morning” followed by, “Saturday morning coffee! And I bet it's the ole Trivelli recipe, huh?” He was referring to Mary's ability to make what many have described as the best coffee ever tasted. It was some secret, family technique of brewing that Mary had sworn to secrecy. But on this Saturday morning the compliment was unnecessary.

  Mary quickly responded, “Yeah I brewed it so we can have a little talk this morning. You want to sit down?”

  Daren was surprised, “Sure, okay. It's Saturday morning and I though we'd go for a bike ride before you left work.” He pulled the chair close to the table, “So what's up? What do you want to talk about?”

  Mary took a sip of her coffee, “Did you do something with Kelly while she was living here?”

  Daren followed with a nervous sip from his cup, but it wasn't the coffee that opened his eyes wider! “Excuse me? Like what? Go through her panties drawer? Say something rude to make her leave?”

  Just as anticipated, Mary's husband was going to dance around in riddles, but she had a backup plan. “Daren, did you have sex with Kelly while she lived here?”

  Now he set the cup down while exhaling, “What brought that on? This is what you wanted to talk about? I mean I can't believe you would ask me something like that.”

  This was one of the things that Mary disliked of her husband. How she wished the man could have had a heart-to-heart talk without appearing to be some dishonest politician who indirectly answers questions with roundabout statements and questions of his own. Mary projected a fierce glare while sternly asking, “Daren, I would appreciate a simple yes or no answer!”

  He violently shook his head in outrage while gently reaching his hand forward to pull the answer out, “No! I can't believe you! I surprise you with a little celebration last night along with some great sex, and I wake up to this! You know, I work hard out there! You think it's a party once I leave out of state? I don't have time to fool around with your cousin and I don't have time to waste on something petty like this!” Daren paused while watching the tears stream down Mary's eyes. He made his impact and it was now time to close. I assume you're working today?"

  Mary shook her head, yes.

  “Good; well, you better get ready! I'm going for a Saturday bike ride. My time home is too precious to be bothered with silly accusations from you!” Then he stepped away leaving his half-finished cup of coffee, and Mary to sort through the aftermath while feeling ashamed of herself.

  There was no need to call out goodbye to his wife as she showered; Mary was being punished for the day. Before jumping on his bicycle, a quick breakfast of Pop Tarts (plate, wrapper and crumbs left on the table) was eaten along with a glass of orange juice (glass left on the table as well). Skip the coffee! Daren was in no mood for Mary's special, Trivelli recipe; not today. May
be he could stop in town for a cup at the Mapleview Coffeehouse.

  Oh, but how could he forget? A quick dash was made upstairs. The sound of Mary's blow dryer behind the closed, bathroom door indicated it was safe to enter the bedroom. One certainly can't go for a bike ride without some cash! Maybe Daren could go on an extended bike ride and enjoy lunch afterwards.

  Sorting through the collection of bills, a stack of 100s was grabbed. Nah, that won't have the right effect. A stack of 20s would be more impressive; maybe $500 worth would make an impressive roll. And to add to the genuine appearance, a handful of 10s, some 5s and some singles from his wallet were added. There, now Daren could go for a bike ride!

  Coasting down the long, Trivelli driveway and peddling along the main road of Mapleview; Daren approached downtown where he often enjoyed the scenery along with residents and tourists alike. Leaves were already falling from trees; browns and golds highlighted the edges of roads. Since being married, Daren was developing a slight gut which he attributed to his wife's down-home cooking. Of course it wouldn't be all that beer that he drank! Fortunately for today, he wore a light jacket to cover the slight protrusion.

  One scenic part of his usual route was the winding streets of Maple Sap. Daren coasted along the midmorning neighborhood where he took sight of a nice-looking blond (Stephanie), playing with her son at the park. Certainly worth checking out, he made a momentary stop near the area where she stood, just to take a hearty guzzle from his bottle of natural spring water.

  Refreshed, he called out to the small boy and mother, “Let's see you go across those bars! Come on!”

  Stephanie took sight of the tall, dark and handsome stranger who stood so athletic near his bike. Where did he come from? Interested, she laughed.

  The small boy watched as the stranger approached who continued to encourage his swinging across the bars.

  Stephanie spoke to the stranger, “He loves doing this!”

  Then she encouraged her son, “Go ahead; show him how you can go across!”

  With mommy's reassurance that the stranger was safe, the little boy took hold of the monkey bars and swung from one to the next, each bar leaving his hands increasingly tired. 3/4 of the way, he could no longer endure the exhaustion and let go. But Daren applauded and congratulated for a job well done.

  Then Daren stuck out his hand in a gesture of greeting towards Mommy, “I'm Daren!”

  “Stephanie!” She did the same.

  “So your son's a gymnast?”

  Stephanie laughed, “No, he'd like to sign up. He loves watching the high beam on TV.”

  And then Daren spoke of his imaginary children. “Yeah, my two daughters are in gymnastics. You know the generic building in town that says,”Gymnastics“? That's where they go.”

  Stephanie was impressed, “Really? That's great! My son would love to go, but I keep telling him someday.”

  “Well what are you waiting for, Mom?” Daren knew Stephanie like a book in those few seconds of exchanged words as he quickly glanced at her left hand to make sure she wore a wedding ring. And just like clockwork, Stephanie would mention that finances were tight and gymnastics lessons were not in the budget.

  And while she spoke, Daren reached into his front pocket and flipped out his massive wad of cash while counting it, making sure it was in Stephanie's face. He put the bills back in his front pocket and looked up at Stephanie, just to make sure she wore a face of disbelief. But her sunglasses made it difficult to interpret. Still, he continued to lay on the enticement. “Forgive me for saying, but I always found it a shame when a man cannot afford the simple necessities of raising a child. I mean your kid wants to take gymnastics lessons, and your husband can't even afford that? That's so sad.”

  Flipping out money to entice women was 2nd nature for Daren. Early in his career, he formed an unusual, paradoxical belief that exposed the secrets behind what motivated men and women. Men, Daren believed, were driven by one thing and one thing only: sex! That man-part often referred to as a “compass needle” was most appropriate in Daren's philosophy. The very chase of women led to the purpose, direction, careers and family life of a man. Women, on the other hand, were motivated by something else. The very sight of Benjamin Franklin on a green promissory note that says $100 would put the silk on a lady's panties in Daren's world.

  Visiting countless, late night hotel bars where traveling business women sat alone; Daren learned through experience that it wasn't good looks and muscles that tickled a woman's fancy. They sat there, so innocent, sitting pretty while sipping a cocktail. Many of these women were married and showed no desire for sex as they got plenty of that at home. Mr. Husband was already good-looking with charming personality. Daren needed something that Mr. Husband didn't have, something to give him that edge.

  On many occasions, Daren would walk past a 30-something blonde who was dressed in her business attire. Immediately he pulled out a thick wad of cash, “What are you drinking?”

  Her pheromones would suddenly spike as the scent of fresh bills flipped in the tall, dark stranger's hand. She would sit up and tightly close her legs together, “A strawberry daiquiri!”

  Then Daren would yell out to the bar tender, “Get this lady another drink; and I'll have a martini!” Now with his foot definitely in the door, it was easy to lay on the charm and intrigue while offering tales of traveling the globe, people met and activities experienced. Daren often considered learning Spanish so he could mimic a Columbian accent. A tall, dark stranger with money and an accent; a woman would literally drag such a man to her own hotel room! Still, Daren was satisfied with the results.

  Once-upon-a-time, the money-love-struck blond in business attire would have never thought of accompanying a stranger to his hotel room. She loved Mr. Husband and declared before family, church and God to remain faithful to him through the years, for richer or for poorer. But time unfolded and she grew wiser while learning the true meaning of financial strain. Her “compass needle” would become the scent of crisp, fresh cash. And it wouldn't be necessary for a man such as Daren to share any with her. Simply possessing the smell of money was powerful enough to cause the woman to remove her own clothes. And Daren's compass needle certainly took delight in knowing that another precious marriage had been corrupted.

  Now on this fine, Saturday morning; he stood before Stephanie, taking pity on her because Mr. Husband didn't have the money. “Tell you what; I'll do you a favor. Your kid wants to take gymnastics lessons? I'll pay for it!” Daren would financially support Stephanie in many ways including mortgage, utilities, groceries and clothes for her kids; even the clothes on her own husband's back! Daren was a man with money who was looking to buy an alternate wife in town for those moments when Mary was not so pleasant.

  But Stephanie wasn't one of those late night tramps in a hotel bar, looking for sex on the road. She said what any decent woman would say, “No, that's okay; I don't think so.”

  “Awe, come on; it's nothing! Your kid wants to take gymnastics!”

  She was growing impatient, “No! I'm fine!”

  Just then, Stephanie's cell phone rang. “Hello…? What…? No…! He just came over here…! Nothing…! Fine; goodbye!” Putting the phone back in her pocket, she looked up at Daren. “You know; I just want to thank you! That was my husband, and we live in those houses over there. He saw you talking to me, and now I have to go home!” She grabbed her son and walked away.

  But the chase wasn't over for Daren. “You want me to talk to him for you?”

  But the chase was over for Stephanie as a slight beating awaited her at home. She knew better than to talk to strangers, especially after being assaulted not more than a week ago. She angrily replied, “You don't want to meet him!”

  * * *

  About a week passed and Daren was out of town.

  October officially begins the season of Halloween for Mary. Maintaining the family tradition of elaborate, seasonal decorations; a weekend with Daren on the road was the perfect opportunit
y to bring a sense of autumn festiveness to the home. Starting with pumpkin-spiced candles, autumn-harvest centerpieces and outdoor, decorative corn displays; a touch of Halloween was soon added with colorful bat lights, ghostly decorations and an assortment of carved pumpkins with candles. You've got to love Mary! She went all out with seasonal and holiday decorating, and the Trivelli house probably hadn't seen the likes of it for many years.

  Ah, but the stigmatism of the Trivelli house! With the ghostly, creepy displays that invite the mood of Halloween, some might say that Mary was doing poorly to erase the bad reputation of the house. But in Mary's opinion, that was just nonsense! Halloween is a fun holiday that brings warmth to the season and a reason to celebrate.

  And so she carved her final pumpkin in the late, Sunday afternoon hours. Halloween was under a month away. How could she carve pumpkins so early in the season when they would only rot? Her secret to prevent this? For a modest price, realistic-looking, foam pumpkins were purchased at the Mapleview Arts and Crafts store. Already hollow, they only needed to be carved with a Dremel tool and candle placed inside. This particular pumpkin was to go out in the backyard, near Daren's mausoleum, exactly where Kelly had emerged with her look of distress.

  Of course Mary forgave her! Whatever Daren had done, he should have been the bigger person. In the spring, Mary planned on planting some white tulips in the area as a symbol of her forgiveness.

  Chapter 20

  “Mommy, can I sleep with you tonight?”

  “No I'm sorry, Honey. You're a big boy now, and old enough to sleep by yourself.” Stephanie tucked her youngest child, Sean, into bed on a crisp night in October. Although he posed many arguments and negotiations to stay up longer or sleep in Mommy's bed, Stephanie was firm with the child. His older brother wasn't staying up late or sleeping with Mommy. The same treatment should have been given to Sean. Besides that; once the children were tucked into bed for the night, Stephanie enjoyed her quiet time with a nice cup of hot cocoa.