I, too, was once a human. I can relate to you, whereas she is a deity of divine light and energy. You aren’t ready to be in her presence. It would overwhelm you and possibly kill you.
“You were human?”
Yes. Upon my death my spirit entered the soil and merged with the earth, letting me live on through nature. I chose the trees. Others chose the water of Earth’s oceans, lakes, and rivers, the fire of Earth’s core, or the oxygen flowing through Earth’s atmosphere.
Her heart quickened as her thoughts ran wild. “So my parents may still be alive in the form of nature?”
If they were deemed worthy.
“What does that mean?”
You’re letting your human emotions take us off topic.
“This isn’t possible.” Juniper buried her face in her hands and tried to shake herself free from the voices. The trees sighed in collective unison and the main voice returned after a moment of deliberative silence.
A human soul is chosen to live on in the afterlife through Earth’s environment if they possess a spirit bound to nature. Most people live their human lives connected to Gaia through the places they reside. Many don’t realize their love for her until they are struck by dire, human-bound circumstances. You, for example, retreated to the forests after years of suffering beneath the hand of other humans. This happens to lots of people. Others don’t realize their love for Gaia until they are dead. Either way if that love and appreciation lives inside them, they are granted the option to continue a life through the element of their choice.
“Francis and Celine Tiernan. I am positive they loved nature. What element did they choose?”
Even if they were given the choice, it is possible they did not choose any. Some humans cannot let go of the pain from their human lives, even after death has released them from it, and so they choose the infinite dark instead.
“The infinite dark?”
Outer space. Many spirits live there. It’s the surest way to break their connection to humanity.
“Their death was an accident; it left me abandoned. I’m positive they’d choose Earth, if for no reason other than to watch over me.” She felt like she was losing her mind, but her heart couldn’t let go of the hope that she might speak to them again.
It doesn’t work that way. We let go of our human lives when we choose Gaia in this realm. Even if they did choose to stay and live on through nature, the bond they had with you while they were alive would be gone.
“They would remember me.”
Of course they would. And it’s likely they have checked in on you since their passing, but all human emotion is gone the moment a human soul shifts from body to earth. We are ruled by nature, by Gaia. We have emotions but they are rooted from Earth, not humanity.
She was instantly transported back to her twelve-year-old self and couldn’t let go of her irrational desire to hear from her parents. Tears poured from her eyes.
“Do you know my parents? Are they with you? Can you connect me to them?”
We do not keep our human identities. I only know others by the way their soul feels.
Juniper began to sob. The voice disappeared and the trees murmured loudly, their words incoherent amidst the wind. She never expected to feel this low amongst the trees, she’d only ever known them to provide her with hope and optimism. Suddenly, being around them clouded her in despair and the confidence she once had in the forest was disintegrating. The murmuring stopped and all went silent. Just like every human she’d ever grown to trust, the trees were leaving her too.
She wiped her eyes and resigned herself to the inevitable. Her faith in the forest was short-lived, similar to the string of connections she’d formed in her life up to this point.
You are very important to us. The voice returned after a few long and hopeless minutes. Juniper was skeptical now. Everything felt fuzzy and confusing. Maybe this was the weirdest dream she’d ever had.
The only person who can recall our identities before we died is Gaia. We will speak to her on your behalf. But if we do this for you, you must promise to let the pain of your past go, no matter the outcome of this attempted reconnection, and accept your role as Champion of the trees.
“I’ll accept that role right now if you tell me what it entails.”
You’re too emotional. This meeting with your parents may actually be a good thing. It may be the last piece of your past that needs to be settled before you are ready for the greater responsibilities that lie ahead.
Juniper was overwhelmed. She sat with her knees pressed to her chest.
“I am so confused.”
Just know that the trees are your ally.
She nodded. As much as she wanted to deny this unnatural happening, her gut found the revelation soothing. There was nothing to fight.
“I trust you,” she responded with sincerity. “My faith still lies in the forest.”
The voices left and the expected sounds of the forest returned.
There was hesitation in her. She was not sure where this path would lead, but she was willing to take the chance. Time would reveal everything, good and bad.
Roscoe did not show again until her last full day of camping. Thursday afternoon came and went and he arrived a little before sunset. She hadn’t heard from the trees again so it was nice to have his company after a long stretch of strange silence. In the past she could spend an entire week without engaging in conversation before feeling lonesome. Now, after letting Roscoe in and learning that there was magic hidden in the trees, she found she needed to converse more frequently. It was a sign of healing; the urge to want to speak to another instead of hiding away, locked up tight within herself.
“I see you relocated,” Roscoe called out as he drove to her new location.
“I wanted to be closer to the trees.”
“It also puts you farther away from the trails. Less hikers, more privacy,” he said with a smirk.
“Yeah, but I can still hear them.”
“Have there been many more?”
“No, just the few who came by the other day making their return trip.”
Roscoe nodded. She remained on her blanket in the open between a semi-circle of evergreens. She did not get up to greet him so he sat down beside her. He put his arm around her and they sat in silence for a few minutes. She tensed up, worrying that his presence may hinder the trees from talking. She desperately wanted to hear from her parents.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “Just a little stressed.”
“About what?”
She was afraid to tell him, she still wasn’t sure if she believed it herself, but if anyone would make her feel better it was him.
“Where do you think we go when we die?”
He paused, unsure of the motivation behind her question. “Heaven or Hell would be the easy answers, but honestly, I don’t know.”
“What if I said that every soul had the chance to be reborn into nature? That we could live on through the trees, the ocean, the clouds?”
“I’d say that sounds like my version of Heaven.”
“Well, it’s the truth. Anyone with a deep rooted love for nature in their hearts gets that choice after they die.”
He looked at her quizzically, afraid to ask any more questions because she was talking about speculative matters with irrational conviction. She began answering the next logical question before it was asked.
“Remember when I told you the trees could talk?”
“Yes,” he responded with caution.
“Did you think I was crazy?”
“I certainly didn’t think you made that comment with any seriousness.”
She sighed. “Would you think I was crazy if I had meant it? That I did believe they could speak?”
“Juniper, what are you getting at?”
“They talk to me.”
“The trees?”
“Yes.”
“I definitely think that’s crazy.”
“Why?” She maneuvered herself out from under his arm and stared at him with defiance. “You heard them too!”
“When?”
“In the rain. You thought I said something, but I didn’t. It was the trees.”
“I don’t know what I heard, but it certainly wasn’t the trees talking.”
“Why don’t you believe me?”
“Because they are plants! They don’t have brains or mouths. They are living but inanimate. Do they have energy? Yes. Do I believe they are an invaluable resource that humans ought to view with higher regard? Absolutely. But to speak? No. That is impossible.”
“They don’t speak through mouths, they speak through energy. I hear them in my mind.”
“You realize that makes it sound even crazier, right?”
“They told me I could speak to my parents again,” she said in a deflated mumble.
Roscoe paused, realizing where her irrational thinking stemmed from. She was still reeling from the trip home and was reliving the grief she left behind.
“I understand why you’d convince yourself to believe something like that, but it isn’t possible.”
“Never mind.”
“I’m not trying to dismiss this conversation, but I’m not sure how I’m supposed to jump in like this topic isn’t insane.”
“I would’ve thought it was insane a few years ago too.”
“I’ve worked in this forest for years. I lived near it my entire life. I have never heard a tree speak.” He rubbed his temples in frustration. “The last thing I want to do now is push you away. Can you show me?”
Her face tightened and she wished for a way to prove her claims, but she didn’t know how. She shrugged.
“I want to believe you,” he offered sympathetically.
“I swear there is magic in nature.”
“I don’t doubt it, I’ve just never seen anything solid. I only know how it makes me feel, which is a powerful magic all on its own.”
She nodded, understanding the sensation he spoke of. “There’s more to it, though. Maybe you just needed to be told the truth so that you could be open to it when it happened. If your mind doesn’t conceive an event as possible, it’ll never be ready to accept it, even if it’s happening all around you. Maybe your perceptions of reality are blocking you from experiencing the truth.”
“Maybe.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?” she asked with fear in her eyes.
“No, I think you’ve been through a lot and the stress you’ve been suppressing is coming out as wild hopes.”
She nodded, afraid her weird outburst would make him withdraw. He sensed her worry.
“You can’t scare me away.” He smiled. “I’m here till the end.”
She smiled and kissed him. She wasn’t sure why she was hearing things, but she was driven to determine whether the voices were real or fake. She could no longer remember the day in the rain clearly; maybe it was just the whistling wind that they heard. Maybe Roscoe was right and she was projecting her grief in a manner of delusional hope. Though his logic made sense, she couldn’t force herself to believe the voices weren’t real. Until she had solid proof she would keep her revelations private. Jeopardizing her relationship with Roscoe after all the progress they made wasn’t worth the risk. She finally found a pocket of happiness with him and she refused to lose it over something that might be a product of reliving old sorrows.
Chapter 9
Roscoe stayed with her through the night. When they woke in the morning, he seemed in good spirits and did not bring up their conversation from the previous day. Though she knew he hadn’t forgotten about it, he acted as if he had. They ate breakfast and talked about safe topics: work, the weather, their summer plans.
“When are you heading back into town?” he asked.
“Within the hour.”
“Alright. I’m going to head to the lodge and get ready for my day on the trails.” He leaned in and gave her an affectionate kiss. She could feel his love for her radiate as their lips touched. “Have a good night at the Dipper.”
“Thanks.”
Once her tent was folded up and her bag was packed, she stood in the open space between the trees, hoping to hear from the trees one last time before she left. Whether it was her parents or the voice she’d heard before, it didn’t matter, she just needed the reassurance that she wasn’t going crazy.
She heard nothing. Resigned to the silence, she departed.
She purposefully took the trail leading toward Lake Mills, hoping to run into one of the Wolfe boys. That was their main spot and they often congregated there when they weren’t riding trails. To her luck, Dedrik and Baxley were tinkering with their dirt bikes next to the lake. She rode up, parked nearby, and sat on the ground to watch them work.
“This stupid bike keeps jamming,” Dedrik complained at her arrival. He and Baxley were the oldest of the Wolfe clan. “And I don’t make enough at the auto body shop to buy a new one.”
“Can’t they help you fix it?” she asked.
“They’ve tried, but it’s gotten to a point beyond repair. Every time we patch it up, it just falls apart again. They told me to stop bringing it in.”
“I say you sell it for parts, then use that money to buy a new bike,” Baxley said without looking up.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Juniper said in agreement.
“I’d never get enough for this piece of junk, and I don’t want to be without a bike.”
“Maybe your parents will give you a loan and you can pay them back over time.”
Dedrik shrugged, too aggravated to continue entertaining their suggestions.
“Question for you both,” Juniper said, redirecting the conversation drastically. “You spend about as much time in the woods as I do. Have you ever gotten the sense that there is more to this place than what we can see?”
“What do you mean?” Baxley asked, looking up with an eyebrow raised.
“I don’t know how to explain it except to say it’s some form of magic.”
“This place is full of magic,” Dedrik answered without pause.
“Really?”
“Of course. I don’t think it’s the typical kind of magic we picture in our heads, but it’s just as powerful in its own way. It’s nature; it’s overwhelming. Every time I can see the mountains in the distance, or whenever I ride amongst the giant trees, I am reminded how small I am. This place sets me right and puts my ego in check. I used to be real trouble in high school, and this forest reminds me that I am not invincible and that I ought to be grateful. Being alive is a miracle and this forest is a testament to that.”
“Do you mean like gnomes and fairies?” Baxley asked, his face still scrunched with scrutiny.
“No,” Juniper scoffed, “I meant something along the lines of what your brother just expressed.”
“I feel connected to this place on a deep level too,” he offered. “It’s my second home. I’d protect this park with my life if I ever needed to.”
“So would I.” Juniper wasn’t sure how to ask them if the trees had ever spoken to them. “Do you think this forest protects us too?”
“Sure,” Dedrik answered. “We are safe from most people here. Society has lost all touch with their innate survival abilities. Most can’t survive a few hours in the woods, let alone days.”
“Are you in trouble or something?” Baxley asked, concerned.
“No, no. I’m fine. I just feel extra connected to the trees lately, and was wondering if either of you felt the same.”
They both shrugged and Dedrik answered, “Not any more than usual.”
“It’s probably crazy, never mind.”
“You’re not crazy,” Dedrik offered with a smile. “The rest of the world is. We are the lucky ones. I feel sorry for the fools out there who think their cities offer a fulfilling life. Their happiness is fake, or at the least, limited. Humans don’t flourish under metal and pavement. We were designed to breath fresh air and live off the land.
I don’t care what anyone says; you’re not fully alive living inside manmade boxes, be it homes or cities. It’s just not possible.”
“Agreed,” Baxley seconded his older brother’s opinions.
Juniper was relieved they didn’t ask her to explain what she meant in any more detail.
“Can’t say I disagree. I used to live in the Bronx. City folk don’t know what they are missing till it’s shown to them. Even so, they may adopt an appreciation for nature but I imagine many wouldn’t be able to adapt to a life surrounded by it after so many years of convenience and luxury right outside their doors.”
Baxley shrugged, “More of it for us, then.”
Juniper smiled, “Okay, I’m off. Thanks for clearing the paths along Boulder Creek.”
“No problem. See you soon, Juni,” Dedrik said as she got on her bike and rode off.
Her conversation with the boys had taken longer than she thought, so she had to get ready for work fast. When she arrived, Misty and Brett were antsy to leave their shifts so she dove in. Carine and Teek would join her soon. There were a few customers in the bar but not many. The hour passed fast and Teek strolled in minutes after she finished wiping the counters and refilling the napkins and straws.
“Hey, Juni. How’s it going?”
“Slow.”
He looked around the bar as he threw his backpack under the counter.
“I’m kind of shocked not to see your hometown admirer here.”
“Hometown?”
“Yeah. He came in the past two nights. Brett and I thought he was the same guy from a few weeks ago, that one from the cruise ship, but it was a new one. Said he was from the Bronx, tried reaching out to you first, but we all know how awful you are with all modes of technology.”
“Did he say his name?”
“Damien.”
Her face twisted with fear.
His expression sunk; he hadn’t expected such a devastated reaction from her. “He seemed real nice, he definitely adores you. Spoke of you like you ruled the freaking sun. He didn’t give me any negative vibes.”
“He’s an ex-boyfriend. He’s one of the primary reasons I left New York.”
“Oh man, he made it seem like you were long-lost friends. That you’d be excited to see him. He was hoping to surprise you and I got the impression it would be a happy reunion.”
Hall of Mosses Page 9
