18. The False Reflection

There were two of everything, but very few knew about it. Tim knew. He had known for as long as he could remember. As soon as the first puddle formed at his roots, he saw the other place.

Tim was an oak tree. A tall majestic vision that towered over the maples and birches around him. There was another oak close by. He could see it over the canopy of the smaller trees, but they rarely spoke. There was nothing he had to say to it.

Tim was seventy years old, young for an oak, but much older than most of the trees around him. He expected he would live another thousand years. He often wondered what the world would be like then. Last year they had built a parking lot nearby. Ugly metal cars moved in and out, sputtering and spewing clouds of smoke into the air. He hoped that in a thousand years the humans would be gone.

A breeze kicked up, rattling Tim’s leaves. He enjoyed the sensation. The stirring of air brushed his bark, blowing away the dust and dirt left by the squirrels who ran up and down his trunk. It had rained last night. A good soaking rain that slid down through the earth to his roots. He drank the water in, filling his veins with its sustenance.

At the base of his trunk was a large puddle, leftover from last night’s storm. The morning sun reflected off the surface. Some would have said that Tim’s reflection was in the puddle, showing off his impressive spread of branches. He knew it wasn’t his reflection at all. The puddle was a window into another world. The other world that existed beneath the dirt and below Tim’s roots.

The tree in the other world, the one that looked like Tim was called Jim. Jim was ten years older and quite wise. When the puddles were there, he and Tim would often talk in the ways that trees did, through the quiver and shake of their leaves.

Jim had led a remarkable life in the other world. A fire had nearly taken him out when he was just a young sapling. A few years before, there had been a threat of the land being cleared and Jim being chopped down, but a young man had come along and chained himself to Jim’s trunk in protest. The forest had been saved. Now Jim lived in serene woods filled with birds and insects and scores of young oaks.

Tim was often jealous of Jim’s idyllic life. He wished he lived in such circumstances, instead of staring at a parking lot all day. He was glad when the rain came and he could see into that other place, and for a moment imagine a different existence.

“Hello Jim!” Tim shouted by shaking his leaves.

“Good day.” replied Jim, in his dignified way.

“How goes it?” asked Tim.

“It’s a splendid day here, as usual.”

Tim felt a pang of envy radiate through his rings. Nearby, cars guzzled and chugged in the parking lot. “I wish I was there.”

“There’s no sense in wishing for things that can’t come true.” Jim said stoically.

“Yes, I suppose.” Tim shook his limbs in the wind. As he did an acorn came free and fell into the puddle.

“Well now you’re here.” Jim said.

“What do you mean?”

“Your little acorn is here. It will grow into a tall son.”

“What?” Tim cried. “How did it get there?”

“It fell through the water.”

“How? I’ve dropped acorns before.”

“You made a wish to be here.” Jim explained. “Now part of you is. If you make a wish, it opens a door between our worlds.”

“How?”

“It’s a mystery of the universe. Just accept it.” Jim said. “You ask too many questions.”

Tim didn’t believe that last statement. He needed to know if what Jim was saying was true. For all he knew his acorn was at the bottom of the puddle. He had to try with something larger.

An hour later something larger came along. Two young men barreled into the parking lot in a red truck. They got out laughing.

“I gotta piss.” shouted one of them.

The second man looked around and then trained his eyes on Tim. He looked over his shoulder. “Go ahead, there’s no one else around.”

The first man shrugged. “I guess.” He strode towards Tim, unzipping his jeans.

Tim felt his anger rise. No one was peeing on him again. He glanced at the puddle. Much of the water had soaked into the ground, but he thought there was still enough left. The man moved closer. Tim had to be patient.

It wasn’t until the man’s toes were dipping into the water, and a stream of urine was pouring into the puddle that he dared to have the thought. “I wish this guy would go away.”

As soon as Tim had the thought the man began to tip forward, a second later he tumbled into the puddle and vanished without so much as a splash.

“Joe!” the second man came rushing forward.

Tim wondered if he should. Was he really that kind of tree?

The other man skidded to a stop in front of the puddle. He stared into the muddy water, blinking.

“I wish to be alone.” Tim thought. He felt a wicked thrill run down his trunk.

The man teetered on the edge of the puddle. For a second Tim thought he might not fall through, but after a few moments of trying to right himself, he slipped into the water.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Jim said angrily.

“Don’t send them back.” Tim replied. “Or I’ll do it again.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

They bickered back and forth for another hour until the puddle dried up and the sun came out. Tim shook his leaves and stretched his limbs as the warm sunlight gave him nourishment. He wondered when it would rain again.