Luster

The mountainous expanse crackled across the horizon like broken glass. It was treacherous turf; cloaked in ribbons of snow. The steep inclines and sweeping towers zigzagged and collided into each other, casting misleading shadows for anyone who dared attempt the climb. The castle of rock kept a vigil over the landscape below.

At its base, a stretch of pine began to push through the spine of the valley. It was a wonder how they grew on such rugged, rocky terrain. Some had begun to curl like dark, hairy fingers, drooping over under the weight of the downfall. Others made the ridge line resemble the plates of a stegosaurus. The curve of the land pulled the rolling hills into a horseshoe before flat-lining into the valley, the weather drastically changing to a warmer climate.

It was here the quaint town of Luster was swooned like the newborn it was. The gaping maw of the mountains defended it, as if the earth was preparing to feed on the skies. Along the outskirts danced jovial camel hump hills, splashed with flowers and tall grass that danced and swayed.The sky above Eleanor’s Still, the highest outlook, had broken free of the gurgling gray swamp of clouds. It cast a saber of warm moonlight down upon a single Angel Oak tree capping the overlook. The only companion; a tire swing, weathered and still in the night.

Trickling streams from the rocky terrace traced down either side, swelling as they meandered around Luster like an icy-blue necklace. The two strips of cascading crystal waters met once more on the southern ridges, forming a river of bubbling euclase gems; a crescendo of baby blues and gummy bear greens. As the water churned and rolled across pale blue and smooth gray stones, it crested a rounded edge, worn with time and erosion. The large drop that followed foamed with a wild white mist into the forests to the east.

“Pediddle!”

“Ugh, you just beat me to that one. Okay, okay, so that puts you at five, and I am still at six.”

“Whoa, wait. That should have tied us up. See?”

“Hmm, no I’m not seeing that. There are clearly five leaves on your side and six on mine.”

“Yer tryin’ to cheat me again! Look over there, you see that leaf that’s about a foot from my pile? The wind caught it, but it is still mine. My point, indeed.”

The tree chuckled, the bark crackling like a freshly lit fire.

“Can’t get one passed you, even after all of these years.”

The tire swing began to survey the streets below immediately, determined to take the lead.

“I can’t go letting you steal the title out from under me now! I have held the crown for what, eight? Nine years?”

“Simply due to the fact we haven’t played in that long, but yes,” Tree concurred.

“That’s ‘cuz yer old eyes couldn’t keep up anymore, wasn’t as fun winning against you half blind.”

“Pediddle,” Tree mused. Tire spun in a circle from its rope, baffled to have somehow missed the vehicle.

“Hold up, Tree. Now I know you are cheating! There’s not a single car down there right now!”

“You called me half blind, so I figured it would fit the criteria of the game for a one-eyed vehicle.”

“How do you figure that? You’re not a vehicle.”

“Well, I have a tire...”

Wood splintered as Tree burst out with laughter once more. Tire bounced about on its rope with creaks and jerks as it joined in. The crooked labyrinth of branches swayed, leaves shaking loose and sprinkling the ground, the piles used for counting disappearing in the mix. They didn’t mind.

The stars were especially bright on this particular night, a stark reminder of fall sweeping the last days of warmth under the mossy rug. The trees were already beginning to give up their foliage to envelop the ground with their colorful jackets. Tree was unlike the others though; being higher up granted longer days of sun. It was also the only remaining Angel Oak in the area. Vines wove up the trunk like thick quilts. The leaves were a golden-green, fuzzy moss draping like decorative ornaments on the larger branches. Its canopy full, vibrant, inviting and otherworldly. Eleanor’s Still had become famous over the years for that very reason.

“You keep laughing that hard and you’re likely to bust a few more belts!” Tree warned. Tire had seen many more years than the typical tire swing; stretched and rotted, mold caking the inner walls, much of its original markings long faded.

“Yeah, or you’ll knot up on your side again!” Tire retorted.

“Oh, I don’t mind, not at all,” Tree replied, trailing off a bit.

Silence. The stars twinkled like ripples in water mirroring the street lights of Luster below.

“Oh! Speaking of knots, you remember that night you had a kitten hide in your belly button?” Tire asked coyly.

“How could I forget? The sky splitters were quite angry that night,” Tree recalled. “It curled a few of my roots, I must say.”

“I was so full of sky drink that that cat could have swam laps in here,” Tire sloshed a small pool it currently had in its bottom. Droplets spilled over its side and through a few dry-rotted cracks, dripping to the ground below.

“I remember holding on to you with all I could muster. The same way that kitten held on to me. I can still feel where your rope scraped my limb as it began to come free from my skin,” Tree confessed. “It was one of the most frightening moments I have.”

“Wait, why were you so afraid? I mean, don’t get me wrong, the wind was fierce and I felt like I was going to become a rubber band, but we have faced plenty of storms like that one,” Tire stated.

“Yes,” Tree agreed. “And every time, I have been as frightened. You are my best friend. I do not know that I want to experience a day where you aren’t here.”

Tire contemplated this for a moment. Its feelings were mutual, and it was suddenly odd to realize they had never spoken of this fear before. The idea of being torn away after thirty-one years seemed incomprehensible.

“You know, Tree, I can’t either,” Tire replied. “I feel like I have come to understand what the free-leggers must experience. Like the two that came and put me here with you.”

“Yes, I agree. ‘A’ and ‘G’ were always together when they would come by,” Tree seemed to bend in acknowledgement of the carving in its trunk, the letters “A & G” etched into its side inside of a heart, subtle but visible after so long. “I wonder if they found somewhere new to play Pediddle.”

“Hmm...you know, I haven’t seen their car drive around town, but now that I think of it, ‘O’ hasn’t been back since the day he threw all of that dirt into the air over the hills either,” Tire recollected. ‘O’ was added under the heart a few years after ‘A’ and ‘G’ had been cut into Tree. It had been debated for a long time, with the conclusion being that the letters were their names stating they loved Tree, and thus this spot. Tire tried not to take it too personally. After all, they all swung from its branch with laughter and joy. The three would eat here, run about, watch the sky lights in the dark, clamber about in the branches. Their visits were expected, welcomed, and enjoyed.

Until one day it just stopped. ‘O’ showed up one last time alone, his freedom had made him taller, like ‘A’. The visit was short. He was quiet and sad. After shaking dust from some containers, he stood still for a bit, then rested his hand on Tree over their names. It was the last time Tree and Tire saw any of them again.

“I miss them,” Tire sighed.

“I do too. ‘G’ would make some of the prettiest sounds. Even the birds would listen. It was my favorite part of their time with us,” Tree swayed in remembrance.

“You think they left because we weren’t good enough anymore?” Tire asked after some still thought, a hurt trying to creep in at the idea.

“Oh no, Tire. It is just the way of the free-leggers. They are free, and so they can come and go for as long or short as they please. I think we were actually why they stayed so long, not why they left,” Tree revealed confidently.

“Yeah, I think you are right, Tree. Thank you.”

Yelling from below reached the hilltop. It was indistinct, but Tree and Tire realized then that something new was going on in Luster. There was a different energy about it.

“Odd time for a celebration,” Tree mumbled, concerned.

“Like you said, they are free,” Tire stated.

“They have been making noise a lot lately. It just usually isn’t when night’s eye is watching,” Tree grew concerned, glancing up at the moon overhead. In a few hours it would be the day’s eye’s turn.

“Maybe they are preparing to bring in more free-leggers like ‘A’ and ‘G’ did. There have been a lot of new cars coming in the last few days with all kinds of lights on them,” Tire explained, scanning the town. “Yeah! Actually, right there. They all got together again!”

Tree could see now what Tire was pointing out. Many free-leggers were coming together in the street and they were all headed towards the new vehicles on the other side of Luster. Was Tire right? Maybe this was a welcoming party for the new arrivals. They sure were making a fuss over it. Unlike other times the free ones gathered, there was no music now, no laughter or smells of foods trailing up into the air from pillars of smoke.

But there was smoke.

“Is that a fire?” Tree tried to make out the origin.

“Where?” Tire turned its attention toward where Tree was surveying. At that moment came a flash of light followed by the roar of the earth breaking open. Fire and stone, metal and gas, heat and rage erupted into the sky. Luster’s gas station had just exploded.

Shrapnel and anger belched into the sky, chunks of twisted metal and brick screaming with flame as the mushroom blossomed out with a haste and brilliance, volcanic and fierce. The free ones began to run, anger seemingly engulfing them as if the fire itself had spread to them, becoming wild.

As the fire rained down, they ran towards the vehicles flashing blue and red clustered near the town hall lighting houses, buildings, vehicles, and yards up with more flame and hate. Sounds became deafening, melting into one monumental roar as bone and frame, glass and teeth, cry and horn began its orchestra.

“What...what is happening?!” Tire couldn’t keep up with the scene below. Nothing made sense. Everything was so immediately wrong. Ice cold fear locked up every thought, confusion petrified every compound in its core. The explosion was so close that the heat struck Tire like a sudden storm, the light blindingly white.

“Tire.”

Tree spoke, but Tire couldn’t hear. The madness below enveloped Tire. It was as if the whole world had spun off its axis into a completely new state of being and broke everything. The free ones continued their charge forward, slanders and pain, the flaming ball birthed from the ground rising at their backs.

“Tire.”

“The fire!” Tire was lost in it all. Words came out but it did not speak knowingly. Tree’s call did not reach it. Shock and horror was gripping too tightly. Flames were licking up the hillside now, devouring the grass, swallowing the green. “It’s coming! What do we do?”

Tree creaked, giving Tire a jolt to snap it out of it.

“Tire.” Tree spoke again. Calm. A smooth river beside the raging falls. A peace beside the war. Tire heard Tree then. Fumbling and swinging, it turned to its best friend frantically.

“Tree, what do we…” the words trailed off.

Debris, now unrecognizable from the explosion, a mix of metal and wood and gas, pierced Tree’s side. Fiery tendrils had already begun wrapping up and searing the branches above. Wood crackled and sizzled, already so hot and angry.

“No no no no no no noooo!” Tire bounced and wailed on its rope. Water sloshed about as it tried to fling some onto Tree, desperately hoping it was enough.

It was nowhere near enough.

“This isn’t, I can’t, no, this….no! Tree!” Tire felt such pain then. It may as well be on fire too; devastation and despair and defeat crushed it. It was being ripped to shreds, every belt and weave cut and crushed and crumbled into powder, in its heart and mind.

“Tire, I need you to listen,” Tree tried to stay steady. The fire was beyond words to explain. Every fiber screamed. “I think...I know I said I can’t imagine being without you, but..”

“Don’t talk like that! Just don’t!” Tire spun in all directions. Maybe there would be a big car with the water arm. The free-leggers used them all the time before this when there were fires. “There’s got to be help coming, just hang on!”

“You can’t stay here, Tire,” Tree could hardly make a thought now. The agony was severing all connections to order inside. The bridges were melting. Fire. Fire everywhere. Tree only felt pain.

And fear.

“I can’t leave you like this! Tree, my God, Tree. It’s, it’s just all over. What can I do?” Tire felt all hope draining away. The fire had taken Tree almost entirely already. Flames continued rolling up the hill towards them, over halfway now.

“Tire, it is time to go,” Tree whispered. It struggled to get the words out. Death began to materialize into a feeling inside. It could feel the fingers pull and tug, each hand reaching higher, numbing all sensation, breaking away Tree piece by piece inside. “It is time...”

“Just let me, dangit, no! I can’t stop it. I’m useless. I’ve only always been your burden. I, I, I can’t fail you now…” Tire began to cry, belligerent, bewildered, lost.

“Listen...to….me….,” Tree fought around the smoke for breath. Each touch of wind, each splintering of charred wood, every layer deeper into its heartwood smoldering felt like acidic fireworks. “You….you...have been….the best…..friend….I could….have ever hoped to know…”

And with its last words, Tree raised its last branch up to the flames overhead to singe the rope. Tire choked on smoke and sorrow, watching as the rope frayed and unraveled, letting it loose. Tire thudded onto the hot dirt below, sparklers of fire dancing up into the sky as the leaves crackled and burst into dying light. Through the darkness and shadows, and the contrasting blaze illuminating the horrors all around, Tire saw the flaming wound that had embedded Tree’s side, cutting through the etching, and all Tire could see now was ‘G’ and ‘O’.

“Go...” Tire read aloud, as if it were Tree’s final plea. “Good bye, friend…”

Flame met flame as the hillside crested the top and collided with Tree’s roots. Tire began to roll down the other side and dropped over the edge, wind and grass racing by. The free-leggers could be seen briefly colliding with other free ones completely covered in black by Town Hall. They were fighting. Each other.

Why? Tire thought.

The ground came up to meet it then, bowing out its sides, splashing water and splitting its rubber as it picked up speed. Rocks and bramble, flower and fauna shot by in a blur before Tire spun straight into a log that threw it into a spin. Tire began whipping around in a circle before coming to a stop. The night’s eye rested its sights on it then, it seemed.

Despite chaos all around, Tire found a stillness here. Silence.

Despair and emptiness.

Tire began to sob.

In the cool blue night came a tiny, little voice.

“Why are you crying?” A voice of a child.

Tire looked about, surprised, bumbling and aghast.

“Are...you okay?” The smallest voice Tire had ever heard spoke again.

“Who…?” Tire was baffled. There was no one around. Surely a free-legger wasn’t speaking to it.

“Are you sad because of Daddy dying too?” The voice whimpered, so frail and soft, like blades of grass rubbing one another to make a sound.

“Daddy?” Tire asked. Beyond confused at this point, it tried spotting the speaker once more. “Where are you?”

“I’m right here..” it replied.

Tire saw it then. The smallest sapling, right in the center of Tire’s opening. It suddenly realized what was going on.

“Oh my...um, you were…You were one of Tree’s seedlings?” Tire asked, stunned.

“Yes, Daddy,” the sapling replied sadly.

Tire could feel the fire’s heat again, recalling his last moment with Tree, surrounded by flame.

“I am sorry, little one. I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to but I just couldn’t,” Tire felt grief and shame wash over it.

“Is Tree gone forever?” Sapling replied quietly.

Yelling continued. The sound of wood and metal clashing, cries of pain, chanting and yelling, fire and conflict. The free-leggers paid no mind to the anarchy they had wrought.

“I...I don’t know, little one…” Tire couldn’t find comfort for the sapling, let alone itself. The heat was still haunting, as if it just wouldn’t let go. As if…

Tire realized the heat wasn’t a memory. The fire had reached them. Flames began trickling across the flowers and shrubs, vines sliding out across the terrain toward the spot Tire rested.

“Is...it coming for us now?” The sapling, so fragile, so small. Tire couldn’t stand the thought of it being taken by the wave.

“Not you. No little one, not you!” Tire began to shake and flex, breaking the dry-rot open all along its spine, exposing its belts as much as possible, the pool of water seeping through. The ground all around the tire’s inner circle began to saturate, water coating the grass and soaking the dirt. The sapling was bathed in the heavy, old wash, but it was all Tire had to give.

The fire came then, wrapping around Tire quickly, but finding no way beyond its rubber skin. The sapling cowered low, staying dipped in the little puddle. Tire felt its insides come alive with heat, the threads scorching, the rubber collapsing.

This is okay, Tire thought. I can do this one thing at least.

As the town became speckled with light and smoke and ruin, the day’s eye began to rise. A few hours and the remnants began to settle. The voices had quieted. The free-leggers had already begun to sleep, and repair, and tend to their consequences.

However, the sapling remained untouched.

“Thank you...Tire,” Sapling whispered, exhausted.

“You’re welcome,” Tire replied weakly. “Don’t ever….lose...your luster, little one.”

And then, Tire was free.