by Jesse Reiss
Chapter 15
Angelina watched as the man circled the tree again, screaming and cursing her name. He seemed to be looking right at her at times, but clearly was seeing nothing. He was losing patience and the pulsating pain from the gashes in his face and across his eye was beginning to sink in. Blood covered his hands and arms and ran down his chest.
She watched as he stumbled from the tree’s canopy and up the trail towards his car. Someone might have heard those gunshots and no doubt Angelina was going to be calling the cops. He knew he had only minutes to get out of the park.
Angelina turned to greet the man who had grabbed her. He was staring at her, looking over her arms and face, checking to see that she was okay or checking to see if she was real.
“You came into the tree without dying?” he asked.
She nodded.
He was surprised. “I don’t know if this has been done before.”
“I guess there’s a first for everything.”
“But you aren’t dead — you are sure? A bullet didn’t hit you?”
Angelina worried that maybe she was dead and didn’t know it. She patted herself and looked across her body for any bullet holes.
“I don’t feel any bullets and I don’t feel dead. But I guess I don’t even know what dead feels like. How would anyone know what dead feels like? I supposed you do, but you don’t look dead to me.”
“I’m not dead now. But when I lived, I died.”
“I can assume how it was that you died,” Angelina said, pointing to the noose.
“Yes, right here in this tree.”
“Oh. Well, I’ve come into this tree and left a couple times now. In fact I was just here talking with Thomas. I’m starting to like it here actually. A lot more interesting than the world I live in down there.”
He smiled. “My name is Balfour, and it is an honor to meet you.”
“I’m Angelina Russell,” she said shaking his large hand with a smile.
“You are very pretty Angelina.”
She blushed.
Balfour looked worried. “We must make sure Virginia is okay. She is the glue that holds this place together.”
“What happened?” Angelina asked as they set off down the bough.
“Didn’t you see? That crazy man out there shot her with his gun.”
“Oh no! Where is she?”
“Andy ran off to find her as soon as he saw her fall. She landed in the branches to the north. I expect he has found her by now. You must be careful Angelina, coming here like this. That man obviously wanted something from you and I suspect it has something to do with this tree, am I correct?”
“Yes. Andy gave me a gold coin which is supposedly worth millions and it has been causing chaos in my life ever since.” Angelina hurried along next to the man, taking twice the steps he took to keep up.
“That fool,” he muttered. They left the bough they were on and climbed into another set of branches that had natural steps formed into them, making their way towards an opening in the distance.
“Can I ask you a question?” Angelina asked politely as they walked briskly.
“Yes.”
“Why do you still wear that? It must be uncomfortable and remind you of terrible things.”
“I wear it because it doesn’t bother me. I arrived here through an act of great hatred against not me, but against something trivial — my skin color. I’m not the noose or the body it is tied to or the clothes on the body. But it is part of the physical representation of the connection I had with the world you are from. The noose acts as a reminder for me to love and forgive.”
“You mean racism?”
“Right. Blindness. Or what I would call ‘Identification’.”
“Excuse me?”
“People who cannot see, identify. There is more to seeing than taking in what light through the eyes has shown one. Someone who can truly see has knowingness and logic and can separate out differences and similarities. If a man cannot see — truly see — he identifies things. He assumes he knows and fights against not knowing. Not being able to see — he thinks white is human and therefore black is not. Identification. This is what makes man out there in your world insane.”
“Right.” Angelina said, trying to get all of it in. They had climbed up several branches with the ease of walking up a staircase in a tall building and were now heading along a bough back towards the main trunk.
“So are you trapped in this tree?”
He stopped walking and pondered the question for a moment. “Well, do you feel trapped in your body?”
“Excuse me?”
“You occupy a body, do you not? Can you leave it when you want? Can you go off and do something else while the body sits there?”
Angelina frowned. “Not that I know of.”
“Okay, then you must be trapped.”
“I don’t feel trapped.”
“Neither do I. But here again you have identified your body with you. Man fears death because he fears the body dying is himself dying. When the time comes for this tree to die, I will be able to happily move on to occupy a body, maybe one like yours with all your beautiful mixed colors and nationalities.” He smiled at the thought.
“So you are trapped here,” Angelina said with a satisfactory nod.
He seemed to resent the implication, but ignored it. “Come, I hear Andy’s voice.”
They arrived at the main trunk, high up from the ground, where an oval door had been carved in the oak. Engraved in large cursive lettering on the door was the name VIRGINIA. Balfour listened quietly at the door and in a whisper said, “We’ll take our shoes off and then go in.” Angelina did as she was told and followed Balfour through the oval door.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when she did, she couldn’t believe what she saw. The room was a perfect sphere, like a globe with steps carved into the floor’s curvature. Beautiful oak bookshelves circled the entire room, filled with books of all sorts of shapes, colors and sizes. She felt like she was in the library at school, only this was more like the old musky libraries she saw in movies. Candles made from beeswax lighted the room. This was the tree’s hollow she realized — the owl’s den!
In the middle, hovered around a table were André, Thomas, Tyoo-Rut and Mary. Lying on the table was Virginia.
Angelina rushed over and bent down. The owl’s eyes were moving and they looked up at her. She could see the animal was in pain and was losing blood. Her right wing was open and it was visible where the bullet had gone through it. André had done his best to clean and wrap the wound and was preparing a burlap sack in which the owl could be placed.
They all turned to face Angelina with grave looks in their eyes.
“She’ll be okay, won’t she?” Angelina asked.
“Not without your help Angelina,” said Tyoo-Rut. “Virginia is the messenger between us and the tree and the world you live in. We don’t have the means of saving her here. As she has saved your life, you must do the same for hers.”
“What? How?” Angelina asked, shaking her head.
“Ever heard of a vet?” Mary asked, crossing her arms.
“Of course!” Angelina said, feeling stupid.
Thomas carefully picked up the owl and placed it in the burlap sack and handed it to Angelina, who took it like she was carrying a baby.
“Here, this should pay for the costs,” André said, handing her a gold coin.
She held up her palm and shook her head. “No thank you! The last coin you gave me almost got me killed! My mom will pay for it or I will out of my own money.”
“Very well. You must hurry. We are running out of time.”
As they all hurried from the den and back down the trunk, Angelina heard police sirens in the distance. They must be coming for her!
Tyoo-Rut