The Boxfield Elm

by Cinda Swans

  Paul had been sturdy like Mark. He’d been smarter than Mark, who never cared much for learning. But he had that same kind of surety. In the beginning, that’s why she had been attracted to him – he made things feel normal, simple, methodical. He’d been so reliable. But at the end, Bri had been bored, and she had sensed that maybe … maybe she wanted to love someone who was more like the part of herself she didn’t know yet.

  What was that part of herself? Josie seemed to know it, and that’s maybe why Bri was so willing to be close friends with her. She looked back on her move from college back to Boston – everything had been so recent. And now here she was, totally immersed in her hometown, experiencing it like it was for the first time, and like it was forever.

  The rocks lead them down to the spot where the tidal wall dipped down, crumbled away from storms. There was a low spot in the sand, and it was protected all around from the shore. The sound of the sea was wonderful in Bri’s ears – it nearly took her breath away.

  And there were those boys. She thought of them as boys. She thought of them as distasteful, full of raunchy jokes. Would she joke around with them tonight?

  Mark plunked the case of beer down in the sand. “Hi!” he said. “Look! I brought her. You remember everyone, Bri? Geoff, Ian. Gary.”

  Bri waved lightly at them, and didn’t move to shake anyone’s hand. She was annoyed too, because she also felt like if she could keep listening to Mark opening up, maybe she could see that part of him who also remembered strange old things. Maybe they could help each other figure out some of the mystery that seemed to be coming back into their lives. She was sure he wouldn’t talk about those secret things in front of distasteful boys. Not that she would want him to.

  Still, it seemed hard to believe in any of it, everything turning out to be so full of the past, so fantastical. Bri felt a little out of balance, she realized, her feet on the ground, the sound of the sea echoing all around. It was a gorgeous night. She looked up and saw Mark's eyes resting on her, like he was finding something he thought he'd lost.

  He bent and took two beers from the box. He took his keys from his back pocket, and wrenched off the tops of each bottle with an opener on his keychain. He handed her the first, and then sipped on the second.

  “How are yah, boys?” he said.

  “Not too bad,” said Geoff. “Fun being back here for a minute. Feels same as ever.”

  “Yep,” said Ian. “Almost don’t want to leave.”

  “When you head out?” asked Mark.

  “Couple days,” said Ian. “Gotta get on.”

  “Where?” asked Bri.

  “Oh, out to Cali. Got a lady friend in LA. Tryina follow her out there.”

  Mark laughed. “Right,” he said. “The blonde.”

  “Yep. Boy, she’s. Well, let’s just say, worth the price of gas to get me all the way out there.”

  “You wanta beer, anyone?” asked Mark.

  Geoff pulled a flask out of his back pocket and waved it in the air before opening it. “Nah,” he said. “I got this.”

  Bri sat down on a rock and looked at the little fire. It was pretty, to see the flames dancing. They reminded her of Aeyr’s eyes, even though Aeyr’s eyes were blue.

  “I’d like to have some kinda adventure soon,” said Mark. “I’ve been feeling real…real sick of being in the same place so much.” He swigged on his beer, and Bri could see that it was already half empty. She’d only taken a few sips of hers. “Maybe I’ll just up and out to California with you.” He laughed. “You got anywhere you gotta be next week, Bri?”

  She blinked for a moment. She imagined a different version of herself, going with them. She had never been adventurous like that. Josie would go on a trip like that, she guessed. Josie liked adventures. Suddenly, Bri wished that she had brought Josie up to Boxfield with her. She wished that she could confer with Josie about all the strange things that were happening tonight. She’d never talked to Josie much about her hometown, and she could guess that Josie would find all the stories pretty interesting.

  “Hah,” she said. “Nah, I got work. And my aunt’s cat.”

  “Your aunt’s cat?” asked Gary.

  “Cat-sitting,” said Mark, like he knew what she was doing already.

  “Where’s your aunt live?” Gary asked. He stepped closer to her in the firelight, looking at her.

  She looked back at him. “In Boston.”

  “Ah,” he said. “You a city slicker now, Bri?” he laughed at her. “I remember you when you were in my English class. You and mister whats-his-name, talking about old poems after class. Hah.”

  Bri felt herself blush. Mr. Parker. He had been her friend, it was true. He had showed her some beautiful old Irish poetry. He’d given her a lovely book of it, inscribed with a note wishing her the best in college. She sipped on her beer and decided not to answer Gary.

  “Yeah,” said Mark. “Bri always knew a lot about some pretty weird stuff, huh? Bri always knew about things most people don't even know exist.”

  He squatted down and got another beer out of the box, plunking the empty one back in. “Bri used to teach me about forest people. What did you call them, Bri?”

  She felt her blush deepen, and her ears began to ring. She couldn’t believe that Mark was trying to get her to talk about these things in front of these guys!

  “I don’t remember,” she lied. Or, half-lied.

  “I do,” said Mark. “I remember, because I’m pretty sure they’re real.”

  She almost spit the sip of beer she had in her mouth. “What?!” she said, wiping beer from her chin.

  “Gary’s seen some stuff too, right? Weird writing on strange kinds of paper in old houses around here. Stuff no one really knows what to do with, so people seem to just send it to some old museum or something. But I think there’s something to it all. I think—“

  Gary interrupted. “Mark, you got some whack like, what you call those ideas? Theories. Conspiracy. You got some goofy conspiracy theory that some kind of alien lives in Boxfield. I think you’re losin' it.”

  “Aw,” said Mark. “Bri knows. You know it too. I've showed you the stuff I found, haven't I?”

  Bri began to feel a little bit dizzy. She felt offended that Mark was talking about things they’d shared as children, but more, overwhelmed with surprise that he seemed to still be … to be so confident in talking about how those things were real.

  Well? Bri looked out into the sea, and suddenly Josie’s words echoed in her head. All of this was crazy, but maybe…

  No! This was ridiculous. She laughed out loud. If anything, she definitely wanted Mark to shut up around a bunch of dudes she saw no reason to trust. She felt like she’d better keep pretending not to know what he was talking about, at least until they were alone. She finished her beer and decided she’d better drink another. “Mark,” she said, bending to fetch one, then standing back up to be at the same height as him. “I thought you had gotten, like, really normal. Turns out you got crazier. I think this town makes people kind of nuts, doesn’t it?”

  Geoff laughed. “She knows it,” he said. “This town is full of nuts, for real. I can’t even get over it.”

  “Oh whatever,” said Mark. “Call it what you will. I swear though, it’s those woods. Ever since they started cutting them down, something has been off.”

  “What?” said Bri.

  “The woods, the ones where we used to play. Remember?”

  She gulped, feeling hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Cutting them down?” she said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You ain’t been back up, huh?”

  “No?” she said. “What do you mean?”

  “Well the city sold the land. To some developers. Bout a year ago now.”

  “My dad didn’t say anything about it.”

  “Your dad – well, I mean, You know. Your dad’s a little outta the loop, you know?”

  “They’re cutting down the woods? All of them?” A sudden urgency took hold
of Bri. The elm tree! Would it still be there? Would she be able to find it?

  “That’s part of why…well. We can go look tomorrow if you want,” he said.

  “Is it awful? Oh, it must be awful,” she said.

  “It’s pretty awful,” he said.

  “Well,” said Ian. “This spot is sure nice,” and he laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

  “It’s nicer with Bri here,” said Mark. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. It was steadying and nice. “I’ve really been wanting to talk to you for a long time, you know. I want you to help me make them stop before they get to the spot with the elm tree.”

  “The elm tree?” she said.

  “You know the one,” he said.

  “I know the one,” she said.

  “We have to stop them,” he said.

  “Aw,” said Gary. “Marky cares so much about a big old tree. Marky Marky,” he teased.

  “Have you ever seen that thing?” said Mark. “It’s really not something to laugh at. It’s gorgeous. It’s – it looks prehistoric, practically. It looks like something from another world. I can’t understand – I can’t understand how any man could bring himself to saw into that thing. It’s crazy. The city can stop it.”

  “Why should they?” asked Geoff. “I mean, development just happens, it’s not really something anyone wants to stop. They want the town to be prosperous. It's on a valuable piece of property.”

  Mark snorted. “Whatever,” he said. “Go look at the tree, you’ll change your mind.”

  “That’s where you think all the weird stuff comes from, huh? You are totally zany, Mark. What a weirdo. Bri, you think this guy’s a weirdo too, doncha?”

  She didn’t know what to say. Her head was whirring. She wanted, suddenly, to go sleep in her Aunt Claire’s big featherbed.

  But it seemed like everything was connected - the strange old books, the elm tree, Aeyr. What had happened to his mother? To him? She had to ask Mark if he remembered. She couldn't wait until they were alone tomorrow.

  "Mark," she said, "Do you remember a kid - well, the kid my dad was talking about, I guess. So I guess you do remember, you said he was quiet. But, I don't know, I don't know how much you remember about the story we made up about the woods. But do you remember the kid from that house being a part of it?" she asked.

  "I thought he was the one who started it," said Mark.

  "The one who started it?"

  "The one who told you about it to begin with. I know what he is."

  "What?" she said. "What he is?"

  "He's one of them, I'm saying. Or, he's half."

  "Woah," said Gary. "This is getting weirder, huh?"

  "Half?" said Bri.

  "His mother was one of them, and I don't know who his father was - I think the story is that she'd never tell anyone."

  "Them?" said Bri.

  "The tree people," said Mark. “I can't remember what you called them, but you had a name for them."

  Bri thought really hard for a moment.

  Suddenly, everything came back to her. She sat down in the sand and started to cry.

  The group of young men stood silent for a moment, unsure of what to do. "Bri," said Geoff. "Bri, don't cry now," he said.

  "Yeah," said Ian. "Mark, you made the girl cry. What did you do that for?"

  A little wail came from Bri - she could hardly hear them, she was awash in so much feeling and remembering.

  "I think we better go," said Gary.

  "Yeah," said Geoff.

  "No, I mean," said Mark, "Maybe me and Bri should go for a walk or something. Bri?"

  She looked up, feeling very alone all of a sudden. The fire was still crackling, and that, at least, made her feel better. "I want to stay by this fire," she said.

  Ian, Geoff, and Gary all looked at each other, and gathered their things. "Hey guys, we're just gonna go take a walk. Probably smoke some pot anyway. Maybe we'll come back and check on you later on - or if you want to come over, we'll probably just go back to Gary's house in a little bit here. Alright?" said Geoff.

  Bri nodded. She had an inkling that maybe she should feel embarrassed about acting so ... so emotional, and crazy-seeming in front of these boys, and she half wanted to be mad at Mark for not waiting until they had some privacy to talk about everything alone. But what was the point? Those boys weren't really too important, and she was realizing that she and Mark had some really, really important things to figure out.

  "Bri," said Mark, sitting down beside her as the rest of the boys walked away. "Bri, I'm so sorry, I got really carried away talking about all this stuff - I'm sure it's really overwhelming if you ... if you, well, if you forgot things."

  "Why did I forget everything? Why didn't you?"

  "Well, seems like you had to, I guess. I mean, I had to stop thinking about all of it too for a long time, believe that it was just a buncha crazy stuff we – I mean, you, really, made up when we were kids. Plus I mean, I think your parents stepped in and really worked on getting you to forget a lot of it, telling you that you just had a really overactive imagination."

  "And you're saying that we weren't just imagining everything."

  "That's what I'm saying."

  "What are we going to do?” She asked.

  Chapter 9

  Mark and Bri stayed up very late next to the fire, comparing notes and remembering as much as they could. Bri felt frightened and overwhelmed. But the more they talked – especially with the other boys gone - the more Mark began to seem like the person she remembered when they were really young. He seemed to shed his normal-dude attitude, and she was shocked to find him so willing to talk about things she had long since put out of her mind.

  He was still very brave, and strong, she realized.

  And as they talked, he reminded her how smart she was. She tried not to focus on his flattery - it came to her as strange, as did everything all of a sudden. She felt like she was getting to know her own self all over again.

  Mark reminded her how everything had happened, and as he added details, Bri remembered everything more and more clearly.

  She and Mark hadn't started exploring the woods together until second or third grade. That's when Bri had decided that she could trust him, and she had showed him the elm tree, and explained what she knew about it.

  That was after Aeyr left. He'd left when he was twelve. Bri had been eight. Such a long time ago! Of course she had forgotten a lot. It kept surprising her how much Mark remembered. She looked at him in appreciation.

  But Mark didn't know yet that Bri had met Aeyr again. She was waiting to tell him, she realized, and even as all her energy was focused on understanding her past, she was also coming to understand that she had complex feelings for both Mark and Aeyr. How could she explain them? Best to keep them secret, for now, she thought...

  She tended the fire absent-mindedly as they talked. The group of boys had left a pile of wood they'd gathered, and Bri slowly fed it into the fire. It gave her something to focus on, and it helped a lot.

  The story reminded Bri how much freedom she had as a child - her parents had let her run around in the woods with the neighbor boys. Little kids - especially not little girls - would never be allowed to do that nowadays, she thought.

  And why not? What was the danger? In her past, it wasn't broken legs or that the boys had ever tried to do anything to her, it was that their games of make-believe weren't about making anything up.

  Aeyr and his mother had come from another world. That had been the game, at first, or Aeyr had explained it to her as a game of pretend. But really, he had been teaching her what he knew about the home he'd never visited.

  His mother was the botanist in the story he'd told her the other day. Cynthia was her name - Mark remembered it. He was pretty sure that the woman was a genius, and he said that she must have known classifications for every flower, tree, weed, shrub, and vine within a 30 mile radius of her house.

  Did she, then, know about the elm tree?


  Of course - that's how she had arrived in their town.

  “So, the tree. What’s going to happen to it?” asked Bri.

  “Well,” said Mark, “It won’t ever be the same. No matter what happens, it’s not going to be secret and hidden anymore. They’ve already cut down lots of the woods around it, I’m sure people have seen it. But that doesn’t have to be the end of the world.”

  “Oh! But that’s already so awful. I forgot how much I care about that place. It’s a part of who I am, and soon all of it will be gone!”

  “Well, I at least have some ideas about how we can keep the city from cutting down the tree.”

  “Like we’re going to handcuff ourselves to it and go on a hunger strike?”

  “Well, hopefully it won’t come to that. But, I mean, what the hell? I would, if I had to. My brother would be pissed, because he’d worry that the whole town would think I’d gone bonkers. But there’s plenty of people in this town who are angry about the city selling those woods, too.”

  “Why didn’t anyone stop them before it happened?”

  “I don’t know. City politics. Money. Everyone’s worried about money.”

  “But there’s so much of it here.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Mark, don’t you think..” Bri hesitated. She didn’t want to accuse him of anything, but she wanted to be able to speak frankly with him. She decided to try it out. “Don’t you think about how you probably work for some of the same people that…”

  “Bri, no. They’re not the same. I’m not building new developments or chopping down ancient trees.”

  “I’m not saying they’re exactly the same, but don’t you think that all of the changes are kind of, well, kind of related to each other?”

  Mark got really quiet, and his shoulders seemed to slump. Bri thought of his shiny pick-up truck, his plans to move to the city, and she knew that he felt guilty now. “I try not to think about it,” he said.