The little boy peeked nervously from behind the bush at the wrinkled old tree.The tree pretended not to notice and continued chewing on his acorn. "Munch! Munch! Munch!"
The boy moved quietly from behind the bush and took a step closer.
The tree spat a piece of shell from his mouth and chewed some more. "Crunch! Crunch!"
The boy darted a few steps nearer and stopped.
The tree swallowed contentedly and popped another acorn into his massive mouth.
The boy ran up to the tree and shouted "BOO!"
"Goodness gracious me!" said the tree, eyes wide and pretending to be totally shocked. "Is that you again, Tom! If you keep scaring me like that, I'll lose all my leaves!"
Tom chuckled happily as a few dead leaves drifted to the ground. "Surprised you again, didn't I?"
"You certainly did, naughty boy! What are you doing in the forest again? Aren't you supposed to be in school?"
"Yes, sir. But I couldn't concentrate."
"Why not?"
The boy found an old stump to sit on. "Well, I had been thinking."
"What about?"
“You are very old, aren’t you?”
“Pretty old, yes. I knew your great grandpa’s great grandpa!”
“What was he like?”
“Naughty like you!” The old tree laughed.
“You must be very wise then, being so old and all.”
“Well, I’ve seen a few wars, a couple of revolutions, some insurrection, quite a lot of fluctuations, plenty of permutations and a generous amount of transmogrification.” The tree felt very proud.
“Where do people go … you know … when they leave?”
“You mean like when they are no longer … here?”
“Yeah, like where is grandpa now?”
The old tree thought for a moment. “Well, some people think there is a heaven and a hell. Others believe that we come back in another form, you know, like a squirrel.”
“But what do you think?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone? Well, you can tell your brother, Bob, of course.”
“I promise.”
The tree lowered his voice. “I think he’s here.”
“Grandpa?”
“Yeah, why not! They’re all here!”
“Where?” The child looked around nervously.
“No, I don’t mean like ghosts! I mean they have become at one with nature again!”
“At one?”
“Yeah, you know, like a drop of water returning to the sea.”
“Oh!”
“Or like the air of a balloon escaping into the sky.”
“Wow!”
The boy sat quietly for a moment, dwelling on the thought of grandpa flying in the sky. “I miss grandpa. Do you think he can hear me talking?”
The tree gave the child a knowing smile. “You know what? I believe he can, I really believe he can.”
[Story based on fantasy art work by Bob Schneider at smugmug.com]
