The Island of Two Trees

by Brian Kennelly

  “We are forever grateful for what you have done, children. Your bravery and courage will live on in the halls of my castle for many years to come. We will not soon forget you, and I pray you will not soon forget us. But listen to me closely. Though you have helped those who live here in this story find our happy ending, there will be many more stories that lie in your path. Every imagination back in your realm has a story and the Great Sadness lives within it. It may not manifest itself like the Shadow Tree, for all battles are different. But you must work each day to help others defeat the shadows within. You, too, will one day face your own battles, when your story reaches its climax. Use the skills and courage you have gained here and the lessons from this story to persevere through the darkest days. And when all seems lost, remember you are not alone. Look to the white light of the moon and know that other realms smile down upon you.”

  She leaned in and kissed each of them softly on the forehead before letting them go. Tears welled up in their eyes as they walked down the bank toward the rowboat. They wanted to go home, but leaving the beautiful queen stirred up a puzzling feeling of emptiness in the children, as if they would never be the same, as if a piece of them would be left behind on the island with her. Yet it was that piece of them left behind that would draw their eyes skyward each night like a magnet, pulling their imaginations toward a wondrous world that danced beyond the stars.

  After they had climbed into the boat, Kristoff got in as well and pushed them off. The queen picked up her torch and returned to the mouth of the cave to watch them depart. Her figure became smaller and smaller as they rowed out to sea, climbing the waves that crashed around them.

  When they butted up against the ship, a rope ladder was tossed down. They climbed up and were met by Mr. Fiddleston. Maggie waved but the monkey only scowled in return.

  “Alright, let’s set sail,” Kristoff told his first mate. “Find us the moon river.” The monkey saluted and scurried to the other side of the ship. Kristoff turned to the children. “It’s a pleasure to find you back here safely on my ship, little ones. Now just relax and let us take you home.”

  Kristoff plodded away with his heavy boots, leaving the children alone. They walked to the edge of the ship, taking in the island. The mountain rose out of the sea like a giant boulder, with the queen’s castle towering above it. She still stood at the mouth of the cave, holding the torch. She waved. The children smiled and waved back. A moment later, she walked back into the mountain.

  Connor put his arms around his sisters. “Come on, girls, let’s go home.”

  The anchor was raised and soon the sails of the great ship caught a gust of wind, taking them out to the open sea. Kirstoff navigated them into the moonlight layering the water, keeping the wheel steady.

  “Shouldn’t be long now,” he called to the children. “Head below or you might not make it back home.”

  Connor, Maggie, and Lucy had a notion to stay up top, curious as to how the moon magic would work, but more than that they just wanted to go home, so they headed below the deck of the ship and waited for what would come next.

  31

  BACK HOME

  Mommy shot up when she heard the crash. It was dark in the garage, with only a faint glimmer of moonlight flooding in through the windows. She looked down beside her. Daddy was still sleeping. She had curled up beside him hours ago and must’ve drifted off to sleep.

  She gathered herself and rose to her feet, grabbing a flashlight and pointing it all around the garage. It wasn’t until she circled the island that she saw it—the Shadow Tree had collapsed and fallen to the ground, the hardened clay shattering all over the concrete floor.

  She rushed to Daddy’s side, gently nudging him. “Wake up, dear!”

  He slowly opened his eyes.

  “Look,” she said, pointing. “The children did it! They destroyed the tree!”

  Daddy peered sideways across the floor. The tree was scattered in dozens of pieces beneath the table. He smiled. “I knew they could do it.”

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  He blinked and sat up. “Better, I think. Tired, but…my head doesn’t hurt nearly as bad.”

  “So where are the children? How does this work? When will they be back?”

  “I don’t know. Have you…have you checked their rooms?”

  Mommy darted out of the garage and raced up the stairs. Daddy wanted to go with her but was too weak.

  The girls’ room was empty. So was Connor’s. Her shoulders slumped. Just to be sure, she checked the bathroom and her and Daddy’s room, and even Mary’s room. Their baby was still asleep in her crib, but no other children were there. Mommy came down and surveyed the rest of the house, but finding each room empty, headed back to the garage.

  Just as she made her way down the hallway, a bright flash of light enveloped the house and a cold gust of wind knocked her back! Their old dog Brody McKenzie sat up and barked. Mommy heard movement in the garage. “Quiet, Brody,” she whispered, straining to hear.

  “Daddy!” she heard three voices scream in unison. She ran toward the door with Brody lumbering close at her heels.

  When she came into the garage, she saw her three children piled on top of their father, smothering him with hugs and kisses. They looked up and ran to embrace her. “Mom! We’re back!” they screamed over and over again. Though stunned, she held them in her arms.

  “How did you get back? When…I don’t understand…”

  “None of us do, Mom,” Connor said. “But it’s okay. We’re here now.”

  “A bright flash of light came in from outside and blinded me,” Daddy said, finally rising to his feet. “I couldn’t see anything for a few seconds. Next thing I know, they’re on top of me.”

  “How do you feel, Daddy?” Maggie asked. “Does your head hurt?”

  He wiped at his teary eyes. “No, not anymore, Mags. I think you kids saved me, but I don’t understand how.”

  “Well, Dad,” Connor said, smiling. “You’re usually the storyteller, but why don’t you sit back down and let us tell you a story.”

  Mommy led everyone into the kitchen where they sat down at the table. As dawn rose, she made the family a big breakfast and the children relayed their harrowing adventure on the island, telling them about the Counselor of Chronicles and the moon magic that had brought them there. They told them about Kristoff’s ship and Mr. Fiddleston, the Tabernaculum and the Mysteria Tree, Anastasia and the other servants and knights, the beautiful queen, Sir George the Master Swordsman, the villagers, and their adventures with Revin in the forest. They told them about the Shadow Tree and the army they faced, and Connor’s battle with Radicle. It was very difficult for Mommy and Daddy to believe it was all true, especially Daddy since this was supposed to be his story, yet he knew so little of it.

  An hour later they heard baby Mary crying upstairs, stirring for the new day. The children raced upstairs and scooped her up, smothering her with kisses. She giggled and clapped her hands excitedly as they passed her back and forth.

  Daddy then suggested they say a prayer of thanksgiving for all the blessings they had received, for the children getting home safely and for Daddy’s return to good health. They came down and gathered in the den, bowing their heads and holding hands. And as they said that prayer, each family member closed their eyes, except for baby Mary. She sat on Mommy’s hip, peering out the window and up to the clouds where a large hawk swirled in the air.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1.What symbolic parallels do you see between the story’s description of the human imagination and what we are taught about the human soul?

  2.How do certain elements in the story remind you of the Church’s sacraments?

  3.Discuss the following people, places, or things in the story. How do you see deeper meaning in them?

  •The model island

  •The Giver of All Things

  •The Counselor of Chronicles

  •The Mysteria Tree

  �
��The Tabernaculum

  •Lady Mysteria

  •The castle

  •The village/villagers

  •The Shadow Tree and Radicle (the “First Root”)

  4.How can the story of the two trees apply to the human struggle of good and evil?

  5.The queen tells the children that the Counselor of Chronicles helps the storytellers of earth tell their stories, and that he helps them try to overcome the darkness within their imagination. But she also says the storyteller has to do his part to win the battle. Explain this important passage and how it applies to our world, and mention specifically what the story might be drawing a parallel to when the queen says, “When the storyteller fails to combat the enemy, the Counselor must, in accord with the old laws, withdraw himself from the story.”

  6.Discuss the part of the story when the queen tells the children that humanity must tell stories to help them combat the darkness within their imagination. What is meant by this? (Hint: Think of the sacramental imagery the book employs).

  7.The children are upset when they learn that Revin had been watching them before he jumped in to save them from the patrol of demons; they felt he should’ve sprung into action sooner to protect them. But he replies, “Sometimes help must be withheld so that one can grow in strength and courage. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. I moved to action at the precise moment I was needed.” How do you think this speaks to our relationship with God?

  8.There are several times when we see sensible bonds between the two worlds. Identify these times and discuss how they reflect the link between the physical and spiritual worlds and the existence of miracles.

  9.There are several times when what appears to be a disastrous situation ends up being a stroke of luck. Name these instances and explain how these perilous situations ended up helping the children, despite them looking like trouble at first? How might these sorts of things apply to our own lives?

  10.At one point the queen explains that reality and fiction are more interwoven than the children might think. We read that it is “not uncommon for the Counselor to inflame certain tales in the minds of storytellers that were based on the true history of the world, and then paint them with a brush of fiction to reveal deeper truths that are neglected and forgotten until seen in new colors.” How do stories, even those that are entirely fictional, help us better understand the nature of truth? What is it about stories that teach us things we might not otherwise be able to see?