The Grotto Under the Tree
by John A. Theo Jr.
Published by Astraea Press
www.astraeapress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
THE GROTTO UNDER THE TREE
Copyright © 2013 JOHN A. THEO JR.
ISBN 978-1-62135-125-2
Cover Art Designed by BOOK BEAUTIFUL
In loving memory of Christine Theo.
I miss you, Mom.
Chapter One
Sebastian and Sara
When Smithsville, Massachusetts, was first settled in 1757, the great oak tree was only a sapling. A century passed, and farms thrived within the small New England settlement. Another century came and went, leaving a red brick schoolhouse in front of the aging tree, which was aptly named Oak Elementary School.
Years later Miss Storm, a thin, elderly woman with a stern face and kind smile, gazed out a second floor window at the same oak tree. Its hefty green leaves had transformed into crimson and orange, with some already lying on the ground. She had once played under the tree as a child, but that had been a long time ago. For the past thirty years, Miss Storm had been Oak School's fifth-grade teacher.
She adjusted the reading glasses hanging off the end of her pointed nose, opened the book on her lap, and turned from the window to face her classroom of two-dozen children. "How many of you have heard this story before?" she asked. Most of the class raised their hands in response. "And how many of you want to hear it again?" Miss Storm knew the answer before she finished.
This time all of the students raised their hands.
"Now we don't know who wrote the tale about the tree, but many people believe that it was written about our own oak tree, the same one our school is named after."
All of the children turned their gazes out the classroom window toward the large oak tree, which stood on a small hill a short distance away. Just then a single leaf dropped from a low branch and floated to the ground. Miss Storm continued. "In a small seaside town there grew an ancient oak tree. Its countless limbs tapered off like long fingernails reaching up to touch the stars. Legend speaks of a wandering monk from a far-off land who planted the sapling. No one recalls the monk's name, but they said he was a handsome man with sharp features and a childlike face. He was simply known as Mr. Greensleeves because of the green, hooded cloak he always wore. Some believed the hood was used to hide his pointed faerie ears."
Miss Storm paused to catch a glimpse of the children's excited expressions before continuing. "An innkeeper once claimed that Mr. Greensleeves was a prince from the realm of Faerie who was wounded in a great battle long ago. He lost his ability to remain invisible to humans and fell from the land of Faerie down to our world. For long years he traveled the world, planting these trees as a sign to his tribe that he was looking for them. The trees had properties that would draw otherworldly creatures to them. He hoped this would include finding his kin. Each fall harvest, Mr. Greensleeves came back to the town to visit his tree. He would stay for several days with the same innkeeper and on the last night would go out to visit his tree at midnight. That is when people claimed strange things would happen. Eerie lights appeared in the thriving forest, and strange animal sounds echoed around the ancient tree."
A girl with fair skin and curly auburn hair raised her hand from the back row. "Miss Storm, how do we know our tree is special if we don't see anything strange ever happen?"
Miss Storm smiled. "Sara, in fairy tales as in life, there are times when you are asked to believe in things you may not be able to see."
A moment later, the afternoon bell rang to end the school day. The children rushed toward the closet to gather their coats and scrambled out the door.
Miss Storm called out after the students, "Don't forget to read the chapters ten and eleven on colonial America."
A few of the students wished her a good night before sprinting down the stairs and outside. Miss Storm walked over to the window to watch the children running past the oak tree toward the bicycle rack and waiting yellow school buses. Two children still remained, talking in the coat closet. One of them was the young girl, Sara. The other was Sebastian, a boy who was slightly shorter with wavy brown hair and olive skin.
"Sara and Sebastian, it's beautiful outside. Why aren't you two rushing to get outside?" Miss Storm asked.
Sara pointed a thumb toward Sebastian. "He's worried that he'll forget all his books."
"I am not," Sebastian said, squinting his brown eyes at Sara.
"Are too." She tossed his baseball cap at him. "What's the matter? That A-minus you got on the math test getting to you?"
Miss Storm stepped between the two kids. "Sara, I think you need to pick up some of Sebastian's habits when it comes to homework, young lady."
Sebastian grinned a victorious smile.
"Don't gloat, young man," Miss Storm continued, trying not to laugh, "but I do hope you can talk some sense into her."
"Gosh, I try, Miss Storm," he said, head down and shoulders hunched as if trying to look innocent.
Sara shook her head and stuck her tongue out.
"Sara, that is not becoming of a young lady."
"But Sebastian—"
"We're gonna be late," Sebastian cut in. "Have a good night, Miss Storm."
Sebastian and Sara continued to argue as they gathered up their coats and walked out the door. Miss Storm tried to keep from laughing. She knew they would argue all the way home but before going their separate ways would reconcile.
Miss Storm was not allowed to have favorites in her classroom, but if she were pressed, Sara Ashe and Sebastian Thomas would be at the top of her list. She enjoyed watching the dynamic of their friendship. Sebastian always made sure Sara was prepared for tests, and Sara always included him in games at recess. The elderly teacher smiled as she watched these last two children pedal away from school on their bicycles.
****
The two kids sped down the road and up Lantern Lane to Sebastian's house, which faced Sara's slightly smaller house across the street. They each grabbed a snack and then went to Sebastian's basement to start on their homework.
After an hour of homework, Sara convinced him to play catch before the sun set. They rode their bikes back down to the school playground and left them next to the oak tree. They started throwing close together before Sara increased the distance between them. She knew this was what Sebastian needed help with. After a few minutes Sebastian's throws flew over Sara's head, landing deep in a rosebush.
"This isn't a test," she said, moving the thorns aside to get at the ball. "You're thinking too much."
She picked up the ball and did her own windup and flawless pitch back to Sebastian, who miscalculated the catch and dropped the ball. He picked it up and threw it as hard as he could. The ball scuffed along in the dirt and rolled up beside the oak tree.
"I quit!" he shouted, throwing his glove after the ball.
She walked over, picked up his glove, and patted him on the shoulder. "C'mon brainiac, let's take a break." She walked toward the tree to pick up the ball. Sebastian slowly followed.
Without a word, they both crawled up under the boughs of the giant oak and sat down against the tree's base. Multi-colored leaves lay scattered on the ground in p
reparation for the long winter sleep. The children buried themselves up to their knees in the dry leaves, which covered them like a blanket. The late afternoon sky was clear, and the cool clean breeze carried the sound of an owl hooting in the distance.
Sara looked up at the branches overhead. "Do you think the legends are true about this tree?"
"There's no scientific evidence to—"
She cut in. "Why do I bother asking?"
She looked over and caught Sebastian trying to hide a grin. How easily he could push her buttons, she thought. A minute later she rested her head on his shoulder. Sebastian tightened up. She knew he was used to high-fives, and sometimes even a hug, but this was something new. She hoped he didn't mind.
A short while later, a strong wind blew through the branches of the oak tree as if to whisper a warning to get home. Sebastian lightly tapped her on the arm to let her know it was time to go. Although it was cool out, she was warm and comfortable resting against her best friend. Slowly she stood and brushed the leaves off her clothes.
As they walked back to their bicycles, Sebastian kept trying to practice his windup and pitch with a make-believe baseball. Sara forced herself to turn away for fear she might laugh at his clumsy motion.
Chapter Two
The Storm
An explosion of thunder woke Sara from a dream in which she'd been the first woman to play for the Boston Red Sox. She rolled over in bed, startling her black kitten, Thumbelina, who jumped to the floor with an angry meow. Outside the window, lightning flashed across the night sky like a rusty dagger, and rain started to tap against the wood-shingled roof.
After a few minutes, the rain increased intensity. It now sounded like talons of some monster trying to tear through the shingles. She looked toward Sebastian's house and wondered if he was awake as well. Her fear faded for a moment as she the thought of Sebastian analyzing the storm. He would tell her not to be scared and to count the intervals between the lightning and thunder to figure out how far away the storm was.
Thumbelina returned with a purr and curled up on Sara's pillow. The thunder eventually stopped and the rain calmed, and the quiet rhythm lulled both Sara and her kitten back to sleep.
****
Sebastian heard the crack of thunder as if the storm was inside his bedroom. He looked out his window at a swaying willow tree and counted the time between the lightning and thunder to calculate the distance of the storm. It's close, he thought.
No light shone from Sara's house. He hoped she was sleeping. Unable to sleep himself, he decided to go downstairs and get a glass of water.
His mother sat in her antique rocking chair, watching the lightning fracture the heavens. Sebastian knew she didn't like the thunder and softly tapped her on the shoulder so as to not surprise her.
"Hi, sweetie," she whispered, her sharp features silhouetted by the lightning flashing outside the window. Without another word, he crawled up to snuggle with her. She cradled him like an infant, and he quietly fell back to sleep.
****
The next day, the children and teachers of Oak Elementary School were saddened to find their beloved oak tree destroyed. The wind had blown so hard that it uprooted part of the old oak's base. The top half of the tree had been severed by a lightning strike. The charred trunk had broken off and rolled down the small slope. It rested next to a group of smaller maple trees. The maples' branches hung low as if to mourn for a lost friend.
Town workers arrived and used orange cones to block the area around the tree. Countless townsfolk came out to the school to see the broken giant, many of them former students who had grown up playing under the tree's boughs. Some people left flowers at the tree's base, while others shook their heads in disbelief. Sebastian and Sara stood by with the onlookers and watched as the city workers put up yellow caution tape.
"I can't believe we were sitting there last night," Sara said. "I wonder why the lightning only struck our oak tree."
"Probably because it was the tallest one around," Sebastian said. "This stinks. How can Oak School not have an oak tree?"
The bell rang, and Sara started toward their classroom. "C'mon, we're going to be late."
"Let's come back when the teachers aren't around," he said. "I want to poke around a little."
"Why?"
He pointed to an exposed piece of the tree. "There are no lightning or burn marks. Don't you think that's odd?"
"Okay, brainiac," she said, "but it will have to wait until tomorrow. Now c'mon or we're going to get in trouble."
****
The next day, Saturday, the children rode their bikes down to the school. They passed a town work crew leaving the site with branches sticking out of the back of their pickup truck. They locked their bikes to the fence near the school entrance and walked down to the tree.
"I still can't believe the tree was knocked down," Sebastian said as he waded through broken branches. "I know it's only a tree, but it's like we lost a friend."
"I know," Sara said. "Remember? The first time we met was here."
"Yeah, I remember."
After a long pause, she asked, "How does the poem go that Mrs. Williams used to tell us in second grade?"
Sebastian thought for a moment, then said, "Legend speaks of a monk who planted a special tree. It was a sign that he was lost and could not see. But hooded cloak could not hide the fears of what people claimed hid pointed ears."
As the kids inspected the exposed roots, Sara noticed a strange object half-buried in the dirt. She brushed it off, exposing a perfectly flat stone about two-and-a-half feet in diameter. A carved picture on the surface showed a young boy with long hair standing beside a river. The boy in the picture had slightly pointed ears and stood next to a small horse with a horn coming out of its forehead. She brushed off the remaining dirt and picked up the rock disk, which was surprisingly light.
"Check out what I found."
As Sebastian reached for the stone, a strong gust of wind knocked him off his feet. The stone fell from his hands and shattered like a dinner plate on a protruding rock.
Sara turned her back so that he wouldn't see her bite her lip.
He stared up at the calm sky. "You don't have to say it. I know I'm clumsy, but this time it wasn't my fault."
"Oh, really?"
"I'm serious." He pointed up. "Where did that wind come from?"
"What's that?" Sara asked, pointing to a hole in the ground where the stone had rested. As she leaned down to get a closer look, warm air blew her hair back. "It's probably a rabbit or groundhog hole, don't you think?"
Sebastian stuck his head in. "No way. It's too big for that." His voice echoed in the darkness.
"Did you see the picture on the stone? It was amazing."
He looked back at the pile of tiny rocks that had once made up the round stone. "I'll have to take your word for it." He ducked his head back into the hole.
"Be careful," she said, standing back up. "Snakes could live in there."
Sebastian jumped in shoulder-deep. Dirt and pebbles rolled down his clean white T-shirt. He scrambled around in an attempt to crawl in deeper. After a minute, he popped his head back out. His white teeth stuck out against his grime-covered face. "I can't see a thing."
"We should go. I'm going to be late for lunch."
"Why don't we come back with shovels and flashlights after lunch?"
Sara took a step back. "I don't know."
"Come on. We may have discovered something no one else has ever seen."
"Every time you talk me into one of your crazy ideas, you always get hurt," she said
"So I get hurt. What does that have to do with you? Are you afraid?"
Sara's face flushed with anger, and she turned to walk away.
Sebastian scrambled out of the hole to catch up. "Wait! I'm sorry. I'm just excited. This will only be fun if we both go exploring."
"Fine, then. But if I say 'stop' then we stop, okay?"
Sebastian agreed, and they covered the
hole with branches to hide their discovery before going home.
****
Sebastian was already changed and waiting for Sara by the time she'd finished eating lunch. She quickly changed into her overalls, kissed her mom goodbye, and rushed out the door.
"You know the school is as far as I want you two to go, right?" her mom said.
"I know," she said with a smile and waved goodbye.
Sebastian waited with a shovel in one hand and a tan backpack hanging off his other shoulder. "What's in the backpack?" she asked.
"Rope, two flashlights, water, and candy bars."
She grabbed another shovel, and they ran the whole way to the school. Sebastian uncovered the branches they had laid around the hole and immediately started to dig. Within minutes, they had widened the hole and found what appeared to be a slab of granite directly below them.
Sara threw her shovel down and climbed out of the hole. "We've just started digging and already hit rock." She paced around the small opening as he knelt down on the stone.
"I was sure this hole went deeper," he said.
Suddenly, the ground collapsed under Sara, and she tumbled back into the roots of the fallen tree. She twisted and clung to the roots as the dirt fell away beneath her feet. She let go and landed like a cat in a crouched position a few feet below Sebastian.
He reached down to help her up. "Are you okay?"
Sara coughed and brushed the dirt from her hair. "I think so."
"You looked like a gymnast. I would have fallen on my skull and…" Sebastian gasped and pointed to her feet. "You're standing on the exact same type of stone that I'm on, only lower. It's like they're steps or something."
They both turned to see a third step behind Sara. Beyond that step was a wall of dirt and roots. Sebastian pushed his shovel through to create a small opening. He turned on a flashlight and peered inside the hole. To her astonishment, there were countless other steps leading down into a dark tunnel on the underside of the tree.
The Grotto Under the Tree Page 1