Trees
Jessie Massey
Copyright 2012 Jessie Massey
45 Days of Discovery- A Christian Devotional for the Entire Family (December 2012)
What Have We Here: Poems and Short Stories (December 2012)
Willford Creek (December 2012)
The First (and last) Hug (December 2012)
Chapter 1
No matter the subject of the lecture, somehow the conversation always turned to trees. We get air from the trees. The trees support all life and other organisms besides humans need the trees. There were countless reminders each day of their worth, from the nursery rhymes of the children to the worn, leather parchments handed down between holidays and festivals. Everything it seems revolves around trees.
Jina shifted on the boulder’s uneven surface. Her toes tingled and her back was stiff from sitting for so long in the same cross-legged position. Today’s lecture was about the value of community, but somehow her Teacher had turned to a tale about a tree in a distant land. She tried to suppress her anger but could no longer hold back.
“Have you ever seen the trees?” she blurted out. “I mean, if you haven’t actually seen the trees, who’s to say that the trees are there?”
The Teacher cringed, as if deflecting a vulgar suggestion. His long white robes hung on his frail frame. “Your argument is nonsensical,” he replied. “One needs not see the trees to define one’s supposition on the existence of trees.”
Jina lowered her head and turned her eyes to the ground. The tips of her ears burned and an enormous weight pushed against the inside of her forehead. She knew the proper thing to do was to sit quietly and yield to the humble silence expected of a sixteen year old girl. But the blind obedience that the young bestowed upon the Elders was lost on Jina.
“So you have never seen the trees,” she replied. It was not a question. Her retort surprised everyone, including herself. She softened the remark with a sideways glance, not wanting to make eye contact with the Teacher or any of the other students. An awkward silence fell on the group, as if the tick-tock, tick-tock of the clock had frozen on tick.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Jina looked up. The embers of a subdued flame stirred in the eyes of the Teacher. Jina knew that she was treading on a century of tradition. Questioning an Elder was frowned upon, but outright disrespect was cause for sharp rebuke, often physical. This was the third time in the same week.
Jina was in no hurry to get home that afternoon. She knew that the Teacher had already sauntered over to her house and made conversation with her mother. By now her mother had rehearsed a grand narrative on how their fragile community is held together by the tendrils of respect. When the last lesson finished for the day, she decided to stop by Kato’s. The night before Kato had dropped by her place ranting about a discovery he had stumbled across a few days ago. Kato was always discovering something, and while most were interesting to him alone, his enthusiasm was contagious.
Jina opened the door of Kato’s workshop. A wave of heat escaped through the door, and a thin veneer of smoke danced in the darkness of the room. Rays of afternoon sunlight burrowed through cracks in the mud-baked walls, piercing the haze like the shimmering swords of unseen warriors. Kato was bent over a roaring fire pit, raking a tool with a long wooden handle through burning red coals with one hand while alternately working the fan that flamed the embers with his other hand. His long hair was tied back in a loose pony tail and the leather apron that clung to his tall, lean frame was smoking from the hot cinders that had jumped from the pit. Jina knew better than to sneak up from behind.
“You did it again, didn’t you?” Kato said over the low roar of the fire. He did not look up but continued to stroke the fire, like an artist hovering over a bronze statue in the making.
Jina circled the room so she could see Kato’s face. “What did I do and to whom did I do it?” she asked.
“I saw the Lizard talking to your mother,” Kato said. “He was ranting and waving his arms like a child’s pinwheel in a sand storm. I couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but your name came up more than a few times. I just assumed you had a run in with him. True?”
Jina fidgeted with a scrap of metal from the work bench, and then tossed it into a pile of rubbish on the floor. “I’m so sick of the Elders,” she said, without taking her eyes off the piece of metal. “I’m sick of their boring instruction. I loathe the hours of time we have to spend trying to understand the ways of this God forsaken village. I hate its rules.” She paused for a moment, but finished her thought. “I hate this place. I want to leave.”
“Yet another rule to hate, since leaving the village is forbidden,” Kato said. He pulled off his thick gloves, untied the apron and deposited everything on a chair in the corner of the room. He was tall, and though only twenty, his features were hardened by both nature and the fires that he tended for the village. Jina had a fondness for Kato that she had never shared with anyone, including him.
“Do not act so high and mighty with me, Master Kato,” Jina laughed. She flung a small pebble at him, but he batted it away. “If anyone hates this village more than me it is you.”
Kato turned and opened a window. The sun spilled through the opening and brightened the room. Kato slipped on a pair of sandals and reached for the door. “I have something to show you, little sister,” he said. “I think maybe you will find it interesting.” There was a large burlap pack hanging beside the door and before stepping outside Kato grabbed it and slung it over his shoulder.
Jina trooped after Kato, trying to keep step with his long strides. “It cannot take the entire afternoon,” she said. She was already breathing hard. “My ranting has made me a fresh target at home.”
Kato led her along the path that passed by the Great well, down the side of the valley wall, into the crevice that ran parallel to the ridge lines. The jagged surface and loose rocks were difficult to traverse. Kato must have known that she was struggling because he slowed up and reached back to take her hand.
They came to the floor of the valley where the sun was shielded by the steep, vertical cliff. The shade was always welcome in a land of unrelenting sunshine and heat. “It is not much further,” he said, pulling Jina along. After a ten minute walk, they came to the mouth of the cave that led into the side of the mountain. The cave was familiar to the entire village.
“We have been to this site many times as children,” Jina said. “What did you find that everyone in the village does not already know about?”
“Most in this village could step in dung and not realize it,” Kato said. He stood in the middle of the entrance and the quick breeze flowing from the dark cave caught his hair and blew it back. “I often come here after working the fires,” Kato said. “The air is cool and constant. The breeze takes the pain of the heat and deposits it in the sky.”
Jina’s robes billowed in the air and she snatched hold of them. She tucked the front part between her knees and stood next to Kato with her arms extended to her side. The breeze was cool, almost damp, and the freshness made her skin tingle. She felt as if she were soaring through the air like a feather falling from a great height.
Kato dropped the pack on the ground, opened the flap and began rummaging through its contents. In a matter of seconds he pulled out a folded piece of thin canvas. He sat the canvas on the ground and began unfolding it. It was a cut in an odd circular shape, and all around the bottom edges pieces of thin twine were stitched together. Each piece of twine was connected to a small basket, though nothing was in the basket.
“What is this?” Jina asked. She knelt beside Kato and watched as he arranged the strange devise.
“It’s a kite,” said Kato. “My version of a kite, anyway.”
Jina narrowed her eyes and stared at Kato. ?
??This does not look like any kite that I have ever seen,” she said. “How can this fly?”
“Better than you can ever imagine,” Kato said. He grabbed the piece of canvas by the top and held it up. It was much bigger now, but smaller than a small child’s robe. ‘This is the third one that I have made.”
“Where are the others?” Jina asked.
“Gone,” Kato said. He curled his lips into smile that almost met the corners of his eyes.
“Gone where?” Jina asked. “Have you lost them?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” said Kato. “But it was my plan to lose them. And if you stop asking so many questions and follow me I will show you how they have gone.”
“Where,” said Jina, standing up beside Kato, smoothing her robe. “You’ll show me where they have gone.”
Kato laughed but did not say anything. Instead he grabbed her by the hand and led her to the side of the cave’s wall. There were long, jagged cracks running from the ground up the side of the wall. Kato placed Jina’s hand over one of the cracks. She felt a cool breeze coming from the cracks, and it made the hairs on her arm stand up. Standing here she found it difficult to catch her breath.
“These cracks are everywhere in the cave,” Kato said. “It is where the most of the air comes from. But it is not just air. There is something else. And it does something; something wonderful.”
Kato lifted the canvas and placed the bottom end, which was not sewn together, over the crack. The canvas bag began to fill with air. After a moment the bag was full, and Kato quickly sealed the end with a long strand of twine that he pulled from his pocket.
“Now for the show,” he said. Kato quickly strolled toward the opening of the cave. Jina hurried to keep up. Kato stooped down and picked up a small rock, about the size of a man’s fist. He put the rock into the basket and stepped out of the cave into the sunlight. Then he turned to Jina, held out the bag, and dropped it.
Jina watched wide-eyed as the bag, instead of falling to the ground, slowly floated into the air. Before she could even register what was happening, the bag had floated into the sun, making it difficult for her to follow.
“How did you do that?” she asked, watching the basket rise into the sky.
“I did nothing,” said Kato. “It’s the air from the crack in the cave. Somehow, it makes things fly.” He reached and grabbed Jina’s hand and began running into the cave. “If you liked that, then you’ll love this.”
He ran past their first stopping point and turned the corner. Here the breeze was much stronger, but the light from outside also dimmed and it was difficult to see. Jina felt the ground under her sandals change, as if she has stepped onto something soft.
Kato knelt down and pulled Jina with him. He ran his hands across the thing they were standing on. “This is my most magnificent creation yet,” he said.
Jina stooped and felt the ground. It was a canvas, similar to the one Kato had just released, only much larger. She followed it to the end, and saw the basket. It was so large that a person could fit inside. In a flash, Jina knew what Kato was thinking.
“You’re going to go up in this thing,” she said.
“The day after tomorrow,” Kato said. There was a wild, almost mischievous look in his eyes that Jina had never seen before.
“You’re mad,” she said, still struggling to comprehend. “You’ll be killed.”
“Bollycock,” Kato said. “That is exactly what I would expect an Elder to say. I didn’t think I would hear it from you.” Jina thought she detected a note of sadness, perhaps disappointment in his voice.
Jina was about to say something when she heard voices coming from the entrance of the cave. She and Kato raced toward them. They turned the corner and ran into two young boys. One of them was Jina’s younger brother.
“Seth, what are you doing so far from the village,” she said. She held out her hand and wiped the sweat from his shaking brow. “You will get into trouble if anyone should find out.”
“They are looking for you in the village,” Seth said. He was out of breath and took a second to catch some air. “The Lizard came to see mother today. They argued, and a bit later he came back with more of Elders. They are going to expel you from the village.”
Kato stepped forward. “That is a death sentence,” he said. “How could they even consider such a thing?”
“The Lizard said you were becoming a bad influence on the others,” Seth said. “They were waiting, but now they are out looking for you. They will be here before long. They’ll find you and punish you and they will make you leave the village.” Tears started to flow down his cheeks, but he wiped them away with the back of his hand.
“Run home,” Kato said to the boys. “Tell them you have found her and that she is on her way. We need some time.”
Without further questions the boys turned and ran from the cave. Kato grabbed Jina’s hand and turned back into the cave.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “I will have to face them eventually.”
“Not if I can help it,” Kato said. He grabbed two long poles leaning against the wall. “Prop these into the end of the canvas, near the basket.”
Jina knew Kato’s plan. She grabbed a pole and stuck it inside the canvas. The bag began filling with air.
“Get in the basket,” Kato shouted. “I’ll make sure it goes.” Before Kato took a step the bag began to move forward, pulling the basket with it. It started toward the entrance, following the air flow.
“Come with me, Kato,” Jina shouted. In no time the bag was filled and drifting towards the entrance.
“Fly little sister,” Kato said. He released the long rope just as the bag floated out the entrance of the cave.
The basket rose so quickly, and she was so terrified that Jina did not know what to say. She waved and shouted over her tears, but could no longer hear him. She turned in a circle, looking at the ground disappear beneath her. The beauty of the landscape took her breath. For a moment she forgot about her family and the trouble she left behind. As Jina settled into the basket, only one thought came to her mind. Trees.