Arvore

I am happy, I think.

I live in a beautiful land surrounded by loved ones. People marvel at me. I provide shelter for many animals. And best of all, I get to watch the city below and over the hill every day with my loved ones. I have often thought about how it would feel to live in the city. What sorts of people and animals live there? What do they do in those strange things called...cars?...I think? And how do they travel in something that can fly like a bird?

I always love watching those bird machines above me.

One day during winter though, I believe I have the chance to speak to a person who comes face to face with me. I try to ask my curious questions about the city, but he ignores me and proceeds to do something that hurts: something that hurts really badly. I see his chainsaw come directly for me, and I don't understand why he's doing this. I remember the name of that loud device because one of my loved ones had just become victim to it, and the man's partner mentioned the device by name.

Now this chainsaw comes for me, and all I can do is try to beg for it to stop. He doesn't hear me though. He and two other men proceed to catch me when I fall.

And that's when I black out.

When I reawaken, I'm amongst some of my distant brethren. They seem to be as delirious as I am. I see a boy approach and point straight at my direction after staring at me for several seconds.

"That one," he tells two adult humans.

Then I black out again.

~ ~ ~

I hear music all around me. Multi-colored lights blink around me; and it doesn't take me long to realize that I'm wrapped in them. Strange objects hang from my branches while something sits warm atop my highest point. None of this is making sense. Where did they take me? Where are the others?

People stand or sit around speaking with one another, which confuses me more because I realize that I'm indoors. Water appears to be nursing the wound at my trunk, though I'll admit that it isn't enough to fully stave off the pain. I feel...sad and scared for the first time, especially after gathering that I'm alone.

Wait. No, not alone. There's someone here. A boy—that same boy from before who pointed at me before I blacked out for the second time. He is tenderly running one of his hands over my needles while gazing up and all around me.

"Hello?" I say. I have never actually attempted to talk to a person before. Usually, I communicate with birds, chipmunks, the wind, others like me, and whatever else happens across me in the forest. Based on what some of my loved ones say, humans don't really have the ability to hear us.

The boy pauses though and stares straight at me before flitting his eyes around the area.

So I try again. "Hel...lo?" Maybe drawing it out would help?

He takes a step back, gaze widening as he stares at me once more. I can tell that he's almost getting as scared as me, so I continue.

"I don't mean to frighten you. I just want to know where I am."

The boy slightly leans forward, eyes narrowing a bit at me. "You...you can talk?"

"I think so. You can hear me, can't you?"

He nods. "I can't hear you too good though. You sound like you're whispering."

"I'm sorry. Can you tell me where I am?"

"You're...you're in my house. My mom's house."

How strange. "And why am I here?"

"I thought you were pretty, so we took you home and decorated you. Dressed you up."

"Oh." I thought a moment. "Well, your home does seem lovely. How long am I going to stay here?"

"I think it's usually until the end of the month."

"Will you take me back to my home then? You've taken me here, and I think it's only fair that I show you where I live next. That would make us friends, right?"

He bit his bottom lip. "Umm..."

"Jimmy, who are you talking to over there?" a woman's voice calls. "Dinner's ready."

"Coming, Mom!" he says over his shoulder. He returns his attention to me and leans in to whisper. "I'll come back to talk to you later, okay?" He smiles then and takes off.

~ ~

Throughout the days of my stay in this foreign place, the boy spoke to me every day. He's even read stories of his world to me, which I found to be quite beautiful. I even learned what a video game was, though I still can't say that I fully understand the concept. But he had such joy on his face when he showed it to me, which made me realize that I had never seen such type of innocent joy in nature before. Do all or most humans possess this or is it partial?

I know now that I can't wait to tell my loved ones back home when I return.

He tells me about his friends and his family and even gives me the reason for these bizarre objects that everyone places under me. Supposedly, they are special items given to special people later in the month. An unorthodox tradition, but who am I to question it? Maybe I'll ask my forest friends to place treats or items by the trunks of my brethren.

~~

I don't know how many days pass, but during one of our story times, the boy noticed that I hadn't been responding much. He pauses in the middle of his reading and looks at me. "Are you okay?"

It takes me some extra effort to answer. "I don't...feel...particularly well."

He glimpses toward my trunk. "I just gave you fresh water and more food." He lowers his book and scans along me, his finger touching one of my branches. "You're turning brown..."

"...brown?"

"Still sitting by the tree?" the mother's voice asks.

"Mom, something's wrong with Arvore."

Arvore. That's the first I've heard that.

"Arvore?" a second woman's voice says. "You named the tree?"

"He's been spending more time with that tree than with anybody else," the mother answers. "I don't see the harm in humoring his fantasies."

"Arvore's turning brown!" the boy cries, a panicked expression reaching his face. It's an expression I had never seen until now.

"I know, honey," the mother's retreating voice answers. "We'll have to send it out soon."

Send it out? As in take me back home? The thought of that renews a spark of energy within me. "It's all right," I say. "That means I can finally show you my home."

He looks at me with water brimming his eyes. Why are his eyes moistened? Surely, that isn't where he gets his nourishment. He's taught me that.

He flips a page in his book and unfolds a piece of paper, showing me a drawing of a snowy landscape with blue skies and an abundance of my brethren. "This is what I pictured when you described your home to me," he says while wiping at one of his eyes. "It's the special something I made for you because I didn't want you to be left out."

The drawing is magnificent. I marvel at it for a long while, remembering a place that seems so long ago and far away. I don't know what I feel when I see it. I can't describe it, but it's a mixture of elation and longing: longing not only for my home, but for my new friend when I leave.

"It looks exactly like that," I tell him. "Thank you. For everything."

~~

The day for me to be sent out arrives. They remove the items from my branches and toss me outside on my side where I can see nothing but sky. I just lay there on the grass, feeling weaker and weaker. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye to my new friend, but he had been taken to something called a party. I don't mind it too much though because I'll see him again. I told him where I lived.

It feels cold outside though—something I've never felt before. As I lay there, falling in and out of my own darkness, I feel myself being picked up and placed in the back of a dank and dark place that smells funny. Whatever this place is, it makes a loud noise and begins moving.

It's then that I realize that some of my brethren are with me in here. I try to reach out to them, but many are unresponsive.

"We're finally going back home," I strain out. It's all I manage to say before everything seems to stop moving around me and blackness encases me.

~~

The woods are musical in the vibrant green scenery. I'm not as tall as I remember a part of me being in an Other Time. I'm also not in the same spot I used to occupy during that time. I've grown a lot, though I still have a lot of catching up to do. Maybe by this time next year, I'll be able to see over the hill that lies straight ahead of me.

Many of the wildlife scurry or fly about, the world welcoming them after its white nap. It's this that I always enjoy seeing since I get to interact and listen to their stories they created when they were gone.

They all greet each other first and ignore me for the moment. They all ignore me except for one. A single figure approaches me: a tall and lanky young adult human male who is a bit over my own height. He stares at me with wonder-filled eyes—eyes that I feel like I've seen before...in that Other Time.

He stands right in front of me and reaches out to touch his fingertips over my needles.

I feel a spark of energy vibrate within me as the forest's music starts to fade and all that exists is this space with this human. I cannot help but say, "Hello."

Water fills the male's eyes as he continues regarding me. He lowers his hand from me and reaches into his pocket to draw out a leather item that he opens. He pulls out a square sheet of paper that he unfolds and shows to me. "You don't whisper anymore." A smile pulls at his lips.

I look at the unfolded sheet of paper, seeing a drawing of a snowy landscape with dozens of my older brethren beneath a clear sky. I can say for certain that I don't know how to read, but I recall from that Other Time, being taught the letters...particularly these letters.

'For Arvore.'

Arvore.

Yes.

I am happy, I know.