Tree: A Young Adult Fringe Reality Romance

by T. Nixon

  Groggy, I pulled the pillow over my face to block out the early morning light. I wasn't ready to wake up, to face the first full day in my new home. A Saturday. No doubt Cherry would wrangle me into working. I prayed she wouldn’t make me face people.

  Late spring wasn't exactly high tourist season so I figured I might have a chance at getting out of it, but then again, what else would I do all day? I didn't have homework or finals to study for. I didn't have any friends except for AJ and clearly things had changed in that department. I hit the pillow a few times knowing my fate was sealed. Though I knew it was much earlier than I needed to get up, there was no sleeping in now.

  I made a mental note to ask Cherry to take me to Santa Cruz so I could buy heavier curtains. Immediately, I was sad. Did wanting curtains mean I thought I would be staying for a while? I sat up and marinaded in my feelings for a moment. A heavy feeling overtook my shoulders, tightened my chest, and seeped into my heart. Sensing the change in my mood Kitten looked up from where she was stretched out on the floor. She eyed me as if trying to determine what I was going to do. Dogs were ever ready to fly into action.

  I ended her deliberation by forcing myself out of bed. I glanced at the bedside clock and sighed at the numbers- 7:32am. Damn clock. Damn sun. Damn life. It's better not to think about it.

  I rubbed my eyes as I walked down the hall to the bathroom, thankful for the quiet. In Sacramento I was used to the sound of the early morning commuters and the ladies who walked their dogs at dawn, before the heat had a chance to take the day away from them.

  But here, in the middle of the Santa Cruz mountains the stillness was prevalent. It filled every available space and was only interrupted by nature. I wasn't used to it, but I liked it. It felt like who I was, it was more comfortable than the hustle and bustle of the suburbs. I wouldn't miss shopping malls and movie theaters, I enjoyed the company of Aunt Cherry's dogs and looked forward to riding my favorite of her two horses, Greta.

  I went about my business in the bathroom quickly, no doubt Cherry was already up and out. Thinking about the horse an idea occurred to me- a long ride was just what the doctor ordered. The farms small shop didn't open until noon and I doubted Cherry would put me to work before then on my first official day back, so there was plenty of time to go riding. The more I thought about it, the more I ached for it.

  I hurried through getting dressed and grabbed an apple to snack on. The house was still except for the clock in the living room. I threw on a pair of short riding boots from the mudroom and headed across the gravel yard to the small building that housed the farm office. I knocked lightly then let myself in. Cherry was on the phone. She smiled at me and I plopped down in a comfy chair and munched on my apple.

  After waiting for nearly 15 minutes it was clear the call was not ending soon. I found a pad of post-it notes on Brad's desk and scratched out "going riding?". I placed the note in front of her and watched while she read it. She nodded and then mouthed "be safe" before responding to whomever was on the line.

  I turned around and opened the door, pausing when she said "just a minute Grant," and called my name. She cupped her hand over the receiver and said "I hate to ask this honey but would you be willing to work with me in the tasting room this afternoon?"

  "Sure," I replied. "Be back by noon?"

  "Sounds good, hun, thanks." I turned to go but stopped again when she added "oh Vic one more thing, will you take Kitten with you? I think the coyotes have been at it again, there has been some animal remains found recently. I would feel better if you had her with you when you go riding alone."

  "No prob. C'mon Kitty," I said raising my voice to get her excited. "Let's go riding!" I waved at Cherry while the door swung closed behind me. Kitten kept an even pace as we crossed the gravel yard and followed a path behind the Barrel Barn. I glanced around for signs of AJ, relieved he was not working over the weekend. I was still mad at him for embarrassing me the night before. I wasn't sure what bothered me more, his joke or my reaction to what I thought was his reaction. I didn't think I liked the new AJ all that much, but I couldn't deny maturity looked very good on him.

  As we neared the horse paddock, I called to Greta and Cary. I was not looking forward to separating them, knowing I would have quite a ride for a little while as the fresh and usually docile mare adjusted to going out without her buddy. The horses nickered and trotted up to the fence obviously ready for breakfast.

  I patted them both on the nose and talked baby talk to them as I bit off pieces of apple to share. When the apple was finished, I went into the small stable and grabbed a large armful of hay. It would be bad enough to take Greta out alone, but even worse to take her hungry and alone. I threw the hay over the fence in two piles and went back in to get the grooming box.

  The thing I had missed the most coming home at the end of my month on the farm was the smell of horses. As I ran the soft brush over Greta's lovely brown and white hair, I reminisced on rides I had taken over the years. She was not the horse I learned to ride on, but she and Cary came to the farm the year after I learned. They had been rescued from a neglectful owner and both near dying from starvation. They had different names then and I struggled to remember them.

  The summer the horses came I was 9. I had been playing in the trees with AJ when we spotted the horse trailer rolling up the drive. We ran to greet the new arrivals, and AJ had hugged me when I started to cry. The horses were in bad shape. He had seen that kind of thing before, so it wasn't a shock to him.

  "Don't worry," Mr. Harris had said. "Soon enough their beauty will return, and you’ll wonder if it was true that they had looked like this.” He wiped my wet cheek and handed me a lead rope.

  Of course, he had been right. "Funny memory," I said aloud to the animals. I was resting my head on Greta's back while she happily munched her hay. "I was just thinking of when we all watched old movies with Mr. Harris."

  "I remember that" a voice said from behind me. I startled and felt like my heart had jumped out of my chest.

  "AJ!" I yelled as I spun around to look at him, one hand clutching my chest, my breath quick.

  "Sorry," he said with hands raised in front of him to ward off my anger. "Seriously, I didn't mean to scare you."

  "Uh, you could have let me know you were standing there." I picked up the brush from where it had landed.

  "Really, I'm sorry. It's just, you looked so..." his voice trailed off. I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing him as I waited for him to finish.

  "So what?" I demanded. His face went red and he looked away.

  "I don't know, happy?"

  "What, you're asking me? I have no idea how I looked." I turned away from him and went back to grooming Greta, hoping he would leave soon. Happy, yeah right. The longer he stood there watching, the more annoyed I grew. I started to brush harder, thinking about how I could get rid of him. What was he doing there anyway? And was he really so foolish as to just say I looked happy? I didn't even know what happy meant anymore.

  "You're going to brush her skin off if you keep that up," he said. I spun around to confront him but before I could hurl the mean things at him the words froze.

  He looked sad. He leaned against the fence closest to where I was standing with Greta. His eyes were heavy, as if he hadn't slept all night. I felt a fresh surge of annoyance thinking about what might have kept him up. I turned my attention back to the horse I was grooming and thought about the answers I would give him if he asked to go riding with me. I wanted to be alone and, as I learned over the past several hours, being near AJ threw my radar off kilter.

  We were both silent for several minutes. As I moved around the horse, I stole glances at him, confirming he was watching me. But his eyes were in a far-off place, as though he was caught in the stare of waking sleep. I did nothing to bring him back to the present.

  Finally he spoke. His words soft and quiet and I almost couldn't hear them over the sound of the brush bristling over the horse's shiny coat. "Can we start over? I feel
like things have gotten off to a very bad start. We used to get along so well..."

  I didn't understand the tone of his voice and it was making me uncomfortable. I kept brushing while I thought of a response. It was true, once upon a time it had been easy with AJ, back before he was this new guy, the guy with an attitude. I remembered him as sensitive and easy to get along with. I remembered running through the fields with him. Playing hide and seek within the redwood fairy rings on the edge of the forest.

  I could feel emotions welling inside me. My eyes began filling up and knew I was not far from tears. I was angry that he was having this effect on me and I just wanted to saddle the horse and ride away. Away from him, causing new problems and away from the problems I already had. I kept brushing on the far side of Greta, hidden from AJ's view while I tried to figure out a plan for getting away from everything.

  AJ was leaning right next to the saddle and bridle. It had been a while, but I had ridden Greta bareback many times before.

  "Vic?" AJ asked. His voice was tentative, and I felt like any second, he might hop the fence and face me. I panicked at the thought and before I knew it, I was tying the lead rope to the opposite side of Greta's halter. With my back to AJ I started to lead her away.

  "Sure, AJ, let's start over. See you later," I called over my shoulder. I didn't want him to see my face, he would know how I was feeling if he saw me. That I was confused about so much. My confusion only made me angry.

  "Vic, wait," he called. I picked up my pace and Greta trotted next to me. I knew there was a stump on the other side of the pasture gate that I could use to mount her, and I prayed riding a horse bareback was like riding a bike.

  "Vic?" he called again after me, his voice a bit farther away. I was hidden from his view by the trees. I didn't slow down until I was sure he wasn't following me, though I suspected he wasn't. As a kid, AJ had never followed me when I was upset or mad.

  I thought about the time we were playing in the old barn and we got in an argument. AJ stood there looking at me as I got madder and madder and finally stomped away. All the way back to the house I waited for him to catch up and apologize but he never did. It came two days later at the county fair, when I ran into him accidentally. I thought about how quickly we made up, how the separation had been enough of a punishment that we were both relieved to be speaking to each other again. I dismissed the memory, annoyed at how easy it was to be a kid.

  I quickly opened the gate and hurried Greta through, latching it behind us and scanning the trees for any sign of AJ. I found the stump and mounted clumsily, throwing my body onto the horse, grabbing her mane, and pulling one leg over her rump. Greta was patient, bracing herself while I scrambled. We stood near the stump while I balanced myself. I took a deep breath and gently nudged her with my legs to move forward. Always a lady, she took a couple tentative steps while I found my center, and then she fell into an even rhythm.

  As I rode I immersed myself in the quiet sounds of the forest. The clop, clop of Greta's hooves on the packed earth put my mind at ease. I felt my anxiety slip away with each sway of her body. The sun peeked through the tall trees revealing patches flooded in light, illuminating the bodies of trees fallen by storms or disease. Bathed in sunlight they were beautiful testaments to the cycle of nature, providing shelter to small animals with their hollowed insides, and a bed to moss.

  The forest on the hillside nearest the barn was mixed, a gathering of tan oak, young redwoods and other pines. As we followed the path further up the trees grew thicker, wider, older. The pines and oaks gave way to groves of mighty redwoods. Tall trees reaching towards the sky, tops that brush the clouds, all in a competition for the sun.

  As the trees grew bigger, the trail grew softer, covered with the fallen needles of years past. On the soft cover Greta's hooves were muffled; her occasional snort and my breath were amplified. I was caught up in a sort of bliss which allowed me to forget everything and concentrate on the feeling of the horse beneath me and the tall sentinels we passed.

  The filtered light, the distant sound of the treetops swaying in a breeze high above and the gentle rocking of the horse put me in a thoughtless, hypnotic state and I lost track of the amount of time we had been riding. At forks in the trail I didn't steer, I let the horse decide. I didn't think about where we were going, I simply trusted Greta.

  Suddenly, as if we passed through a curtain, the trees broke and revealed a wide meadow. On the far side, very near the edge of the tree line, stood a single, enormous redwood tree. It stood slightly apart from other trees, dominating the meadow as if the forest were too small to contain it. At its base the dirt was soft, with arm sized roots protruding wherever they pleased. With no competition for the sun its meadow facing limbs were thick and full of rich green color. Its backside was sheltered by dark forest, obscuring it in shadows.

  The base was huge, wider than a car; spreading out like an elephant's foot. I was drawn to it, wanted to touch the bark that knarled up. As we got closer, I could tell the backside was devoid of limbs for quite aways up. When we were within feet of it I could feel Greta getting nervous. I absent mindedly patted her neck to comfort her but wasn’t able to take my eyes off the tree. Greta paused in her step and I urged her forward by tightening my thigh muscles. She threw her head and avoided my cue.

  Instead of moving forward she pranced to the side a little and let out a snort. I began to get frustrated with her antics and urged her forward again, this time saying, "c'mon girl,". As I spoke, I took my eyes off the tree to focus on the horse and saw a movement from the corner of my eye. Greta, however, had seen it clearly and responded by spooking hard to the right.

  I slid from her at the unexpected jump and landed in a heap on the soft grass. My departure upset her more and she went flying across the meadow in the direction we had come. I watched from where I had fallen as she disappeared into the trees. I waited for several seconds to see if she would come back but knowing she wouldn't. I hit the ground with my fist, frustrated that I hadn't put the saddle on her.

  A rustling sound from near the tree behind me caused me to jump to my feet. I spun around to face whatever it was that had spooked my horse. I was breathing hard and started to panic, fearing that whatever I had seen moving was a boar or mountain lion- both creatures I could not outrun.

  "Hello?" I called out after several minutes of waiting. There was no sound other than the sway of branches in a gentle breeze.

  I stood and stared before I convinced myself that whatever it was had either left, was uninterested or afraid of me. Without taking my eyes off the large base of the tree I began to back away scanning the edges of my view for signs that something might jump out at me. There was an eerie quietness that was almost as unsettling as thinking there was something hiding. I rubbed my goosebumps on my arms and swallowed hard. Where had the breeze gone?

  I was several feet away when I finally glanced behind me to orient myself with the trail we had come in on. The meadow was wide, and Greta had crossed it much faster with her four legs than I could with two. The opening still seemed far, and I was not comfortable taking my eyes off the tree, certain that if something wanted to get me it would cross the distance between us much faster than I could get away from it.

  I didn't realize until I was in the safety of the forest again that I had been holding my breath. I turned and ran, following the hoof prints Greta had left in the soft dirt. I stopped to catch my breath when I was sure I was far enough away from the meadow, and still I felt the need to turn and make sure I wasn't being followed. When the pounding of my heart slowed, I began walking down the mountain path, feeling much less quiet and calm than I had going the other way. I tried to remember how long I had been riding, trying to gauge how far away I was from the farm, but I had been lost in time while on horseback.

  I wandered down the path trying not to think about anything, keeping my eyes on the ground so I wouldn't stumble on roots or fallen branches. Clusters of redwoods, which AJ had told me many years
ago were called fairy rings, lined the path, shadowing me from the sun and my only available method of guessing the time.

  After a half hour or so the younger, lankier trees were dotting the path and the ground firmed under my feet. When I came to a three-way fork in the trail I realized I could no longer see the hoof prints I had been following. I started to fill with panic, unable to recall how long I had been walking or which way the horse had gone. I ran my hands through my hair and bit my lip while scanning the landscape for any sign the horse may have left behind.

  I decided the best thing to do was to pick a path and walk it for a while, hoping I recognized something. I chose the middle of the fork, feeling like the farm was in that direction and wishing I hadn't quit Girl Scouts. I walked for a while, still waiting, hoping, I saw something I recognized. AJ and I had played in the forests behind the pasture many times. I was frustrated with myself for not remembering. We had built a tree fort and played in groves of young redwoods. Surely we had walked these paths before? But we had always been warned not to go too far. The border between the farm property and the state park was unmarked, containing miles of wild woods and wild animals. With interconnecting trails, a person could get lost for hours, possibly even days.