The Children

There once was a dirt road in a soft, grassy meadow. It stretched down the polite hills of tall grass, all the way to the base of the mountain in the distance. There, though you could not see it from the best sitting spots, it ran parallel to the stream for a while. Then it began to climb the mountain. You could see that from anywhere in the meadow below: the road took on a gradual incline and meandered up the mountainside, making turns anytime the climb was too great. Then, with a little humble triumph, it traveled over the top, and the little trail went off into eternity.

There were 3 good sitting spots in the meadow. But the best one of all was the one that overlooked the road on both sides of its journey. After it came up from the stream, and cut between the 3rd and 2nd best sitting spots in the meadow, it gave a soft turn to the left. And then, after a brief stretch, it disappeared into the forest; a place less traveled. There was a small hill, an antelope’s gallop from where the road turned to the left, which was perfect. The grass was always green there; soft, tall and lush. You could watch the road climb down from the mountain, or watch it disappear into the unknown. It was there that the sunrises looked the best.

Two children had discovered this sitting spot one day. Every day they came out to play in the meadow. They ran and giggled and often tripped. The boy found snakes and the girl braided grass, and they both sat in their spot when they were tired. Napping never felt so beautiful.

One day the boy woke up before the girl. And instead of a snake, he found a seed.

~~~

We are the children borne of a yesterday that never existed. And while the fathers of tomorrow call and clamour for the abortion that never happened, the smell of our carcasses pollutes their skyline. What sweet treasure is this, where devils run scared of their own handiwork? Cruel temptation. And how the sacred must reply in kind, silenced by echoes. The Becoming mute their own pleas for pity. And I am left with cigarette smoke. There is no more comfortable lie.

Bodies of long dead homeless decorated the streets below. Old abandoned buildings crammed next to one another for warmth in the chill of emptiness. The windows were all boarded up, illustrated with the graffiti of a former time. Garbage drifted in the early morning breeze. Noise was not heard, but its absence was felt. It was not the night that had sapped these slums of all their savagery; they had always been this way. In the distance, the buildings began to stretch like trees and movement started.

And so the silver spires rise to deceive the skies.

Jacob looked on from the overpass above. He stood as if to preside over the absence below. His long, black hair fell to the collar of his trench-coat. His frame was the very foundation of a man. His feet were naked and bloody. A cigarette hung between his lips.

A vehicle approached. This was an event. Cars did not travel on this bridge. It was long abandoned; the same excommunication of the slums had encouraged the barren roads. Nothing travelled on this road anymore. Jacob himself would not take this exodus.

The vehicle stopped. Someone got out. It was her.

“You really are insane, Jacob, you know that? The fucking Borderlands – I find you taking a morning stroll in the fucking Borderlands? Just once I wish you would make some kind of sense, ya know? Like normal people?”

Jacob shrugged, barely acknowledging his acquaintance. We all become sons to our own children.

“Faaaaaaaaaaaaack. See? This is what I mean. You can’t even talk like other people. You always gotta do the mind-thing. Tele-apathy or whatever.” She walked forward, animatedly tapping her head to emphasize her point. It was little use, however. Jacob had his back turned and continued to lean on the overpass railing. “What the hell are you doing here, anyways?”

Spiritus Mundi

~~~

“Where should we plant it – where should we plant it?” the girl asked excitedly. She had just woken up and was skipping around with glee after hearing about the seed. The grass braids in her hair bounced playfully. “I think we should plant it here, by the road. Because then people going by can enjoy it!” She smiled a big toothy smile, and her eyes were bright and cheerful.

The boy had just rolled down the hill, and was covered in grass and soil. His face was painted with dirt. He pretended to look very seriously at the area that the girl had suggested, but in truth he was just as excited as she was. “Hmm,” he said. “There aren’t too many snakes here. And we can carry water from the stream.”

“And when the sun comes over the mountains it will shower the plant in gold,” the girl said, grinning as big as her face would let her. “The sunlight always lands right here,” she said, accenting her point with a twirl. Her voice sounded like innocence.

So that’s what they did. They planted the seed a few feet from the bend in the dirt road. He dug a hole with his hands and dropped in the seed and she made sure that the lump was properly tended. Then they ran all the way down to the stream and ran all the way back up with water in their clasped hands. Not much was left after it had spilled and leaked from between their fingers, but it was enough make the soil wet. And there was plenty of laughter left over.

~~~

It started to rain. A light sprinkle fell from the thick clouds above. “What? What the hell does Spiritus Mundi mean? Now you’re not even speaking English!”

Dawns were meant to be missed. Dusks meant to be revered. It is the very spirit of the world.

“Well, listen, Jay. I don’t give a shit about dawns or dusks or the world. But I do care about spirits - do you know what they say about this place?”

This is our world, turned to stone.

“No... they say that strange spirits once lived here. Barbaric invisible things, and now they’re homeless. They’ll take revenge on anything that lingers here!” She grabbed his arm and turned him towards her. “We gotta get-“

The scars always made her flinch. “We gotta get out of here. You know, go back into the city limits.”

His eyes were two different colours – one red and the other didn’t matter. And the scars littered his face, though long since healed. He tossed his cigarette.

The fleshy fingers of fantasy wrap around reality. Their empty shells protect a growth that’s never tasted life. A death in a cage is an execution of soul. A sour rot of condemnation. Where is your conviction? Can you not hear beyond your echo? Do not stay dead there, dear child.

She drew back. “What? What are you talking about. Oh God... They don’t have you, do they? They do. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Jacob, snap out of it. We’ve got to go. Get in the car,” she marched across the empty street hurriedly. The rain was really coming down now. He stood there and opened his hands to the weather.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST GET IN THE CAR!!” Her frustration burst.

The daughter of Lucifer laughs God’s tears. She scampers around her own creation. Hell would keep her out, but her ambitions are angelic. She would build wings for man in exchange for a cage. And they would build it, and never walk again.

Your Borderlands long for love. The sunlight always lands right here.

His coat was soaked.

~~~

The seed grew into a sapling, and that sapling grew into a tree. The girl was right. The location was perfect, and the dawn always struck first light on the ground where they had planted it. It grew fast and strong as a result. Its trunk was firm and before they thought it possible, its branches were reaching for the sky. In the spring the tree bloomed wonderful bright colours – wild pink and purple buds.

Passer-bys often enjoyed the shade and stopped for a while. They would eat lunch and then pack up and head into the forest. It was the perfect break for people who had just climbed over the mountain. The two children looked after the tree. When a bird made a nest, the boy always found worms for it. When visitors had left their garbage, the girl always picked it up. And in the afternoons, they would both sit in their sitting spot and call down to the tree.

“Hey tree! Can you grow orange leaves?”

“Of course it can grow orange leaves. But you have to wait until next season, silly.” They giggled and laughed.

“Hey tree! Can you reach the stars?

“Maybe it can!”

The tree never answered them, of course, but if it could have, it would have told them that it reached for the stars every day. It could turn orange, but it really preferred purple in the spring. And it would have told them that they picked a very good spot, and that it was looking forward to spending its life with them. It would have told them that it longed to be with them, and it was terrified for the day when they might move on, as all of the travellers did.

Over time, the tree began to worry more. And though the children laughed and climbed and showed no signs of age, the tree began to grow frightened that they would one day lose their love of it. It did not want to be alone. So, every time they suggested a different colour, it would change colours the very next season. And every time they were too tired to walk up their little hill, it gave them the best, thickest shade it could muster. And every time they asked it about the heavens, it grew more determined to pluck the stars from the sky. Whatever they wanted or wondered, it would give them.

And one day, it grew so tall and thick and bright, that it blocked out the sun. It blocked out the view of the mountain, and the view of the forest. And then the best sitting spot in the meadow saw no more sunrises. All the children could see was their tree.

“This is boring,” the boy complained. “The shade has made the grass wilt. And I’m cold.”

“No!” The girl ran down to the tree trunk and gave it a big hug. “We can’t leave it! It’s our baby!”

“Please? It’s boring. It’s just a lot of work. Ya can’t climb it, it’s too big! And I can’t see it, ‘cause it’s too dark! And it takes up so much room, you can’t even plant anything else!” The boy was pouting now. This wasn’t any fun.

“Fine! YOU leave,” she said, with her hands on her hips. “But I’m staying. We gotta protect it!”

“WHY? It doesn’t need protecting! Look how huge it is!! COME ON. Let’s GOOOOOO.” The boy stomped in a circle.

“No. You just don’t understand.”

“FINE!” The boy stamped away. When he reached the boarder of the forest he looked back. The tree had grown again, and he could not see her. She was gone.

~~~

“Jacob, I’m leaving.” She had to shout against the rain. She jumped inside her vehicle and slammed the door shut. Her wet fingers fumbled with the keys.

What affections do your fake forests feign?

He was at her window. She locked the door. “Please work, please work, please work.” It started. The windshield wipers started along with the engine. “Fucker can take care of himself.” Her foot pressed down on the metal pedal and the car moved forward against the rain.

All the world a spirit without a shell.

She didn’t look back.