Hall of Mosses

by Evans, Nicoline

You still need a solid following with unshakable faith. It’s imperative the surviving humans of the trees listen to you. You are our only mediator; you will become their only salvation in the new world. If they do not trust in you and abide your lead, they will perish. Not by us directly but at the hands of the environmental shift. The world will be dangerous. We will be guiding you through your survival and only those who follow will endure the first few years.

  “I see.”

  We have faith in you.

  Their presence faded and she sensed her returned solitude. This ordeal grew heavier each day. She realized how much she needed Roscoe on her side; the weight was too great to carry alone. Without him she was sure she’d be crushed beneath this burden.

  Chapter 17

  She hurried home Friday morning, hoping the time apart gave Roscoe room to breathe. She needed him to recover from the shock so he could hear her out with a level head.

  “Roscoe, it’s Juni. Where are you?” she said into the walkie-talkie.

  It took a few minutes for him to respond.

  “I’m home,” he yawned. “I’m on the afternoon shift.”

  “Can I come over?”

  “Sure.”

  She hopped back on her bike and sped toward his townhouse. The door was unlocked for her and she entered to find him half asleep on the couch.

  “You were right, I need to do more. Can I borrow your email account?”

  “Yes, but for what?”

  “I’m going to email the climatologists of each news station. Can you help me? I’m really bad with the internet.”

  Roscoe was happy to help and together, they searched for the contact info of the weathermen on every major broadcast network. They were only able to find the generic email addresses, which would likely land their email into the abyss of the internet, but it was the best they could do. Juniper comprised an email stating that she knew the tsunamis were coming and that the next disaster would be avalanches across Asia and Europe, followed by an arctic freeze and toxic fog.

  “Really?” Roscoe asked as she typed that part and Juniper nodded. The email made her look crazy, but she hoped they’d remember it after the avalanches began and would take her seriously when she warned them of the next attack. She wondered if this defeated the intentions the trees had for her to find a worthy following, but she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she hadn’t tried to reach the masses.

  “Do you think they’ll believe me?” she asked after sending the email to fifteen different contacts at eight major stations.

  “No. The email addresses we found all started with the word ‘info’, which means they get thousands and the account is probably monitored by an intern. I have a bad feeling it will get lost amongst all the others, and even if it is seen, they’ll probably delete it after reading the first sentence due to the volume they’re sifting through.” Roscoe rubbed his brow in frustration. “I see what you meant when you said you’d feel like a lunatic. It felt easier to reach an audience in my mind, but now that we are actually trying, I realize how far away they are. I don’t imagine we will get a response.”

  “I’m happy we tried.”

  “So am I.” His mood seemed lifted despite his skepticism.

  “I have good news,” she blurted, ready to move on to the next order of business.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “You said you were worried about all the good people we wouldn’t be able to save. Well, if these emails aren’t taken seriously, which I suspect they’ll be ignored, the trees have a way to save more.”

  “Is that so?” he asked skeptically.

  “They see people in colors, hues that represent their auras, and they can tell just by looking at a soul if they are a decent person or not. They told me they planned to spare those individuals.”

  “Are you sure they aren’t bluffing in order to get me on board and to make you feel better?”

  “It didn’t feel like a lie.”

  “Well, considering how helpless we are in this predicament, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I sure hope it’s the truth.”

  “It is,” she responded with overflowing optimism. “I’m sure it is.”

  “Have they said yet how they plan to exterminate the majority of us on this side of the planet?”

  “Not yet, but they told me the details of the next attack.”

  “Right. The avalanches and what not.”

  “The Champions of the mountains and air are stationed as high as they could climb in Nepal and Switzerland. The enormous avalanches amongst the mountain ranges in Europe and Asia will destroy all towns in close range. Then comes the arctic freeze. This will affect everyone the snow doesn’t bury. After that, a toxic fog will cover the continents. The spirits of the air have gathered years of our built-up pollution and plan to sweep these regions with it. Unlike the other attacks thus far, this will be a slow one. The fog will travel, country by country, until its job is done. They said it could take a few weeks, which means we have a few weeks before it’s potentially our turn.”

  “How do they plan to spare humans from that? If they haven’t already climbed to the tallest mountains, they’ll surely die.”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe those spirits can control who the air touches; maybe the snow can quickly melt around those caught who shouldn’t be.”

  “Insanity.” His bad mood was returning. “No one survived the South Pacific tsunamis. Were there no outlying people there worth saving?”

  “Maybe they washed up someplace else and reports haven’t surfaced yet.”

  Roscoe rolled his eyes. “Okay, enough. Thank you for the update. Let’s move on from this, shall we?”

  “I really wish you’d stop talking to me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “With such disdain.”

  “This whole ordeal is irritating. I obviously have reason to believe you, but just because I have some proof doesn’t make it easy. This is madness.”

  “I need you. I can’t do this alone.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, I just need space.” The guilt he felt for continually losing his temper with her showed. “I’ll come around. Give me time.”

  She gave him a half smile and left. There was nothing more to say.

  Misty and Carine were scheduled to work with her that night. She hated going back to bartending when she had more important work to do, but these were her people and she was determined to save them.

  Their shift started off slow and they spent a lot of time watching the news. Jeb was with them and provided his never-ending commentary on the post-tsunami reports. Juniper watched them and contemplated how to ease them into the truth she held.

  “I’m telling you, it’s climate change. It’s finally appearing in scales we never imagined,” Jeb said for a third time.

  “Maybe,” Carine said. “Or maybe it’s just some freak occurrence.”

  “There’s never been a death toll so high.” Misty shook her head.

  “It’s a damn tragedy,” Jeb added with a look at Juniper. “You’re quiet, what’s on your mind.”

  “I feel strange,” Juniper answered honestly.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I knew it was coming.”

  The girls looked at her with skepticism and Jeb raised his eyebrows.

  “I’m not sure what you mean by that,” he said.

  “I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise to listen with open minds. After I tell you I need a vow of patience, and if what I say comes to fruition, you must believe everything I tell you after.”

  “What the hell is happening?” Misty asked in bewilderment.

  “Do you all promise?”

  They all shook their heads in agreement and she went on.

  “Mass avalanches are next. Every mountain range across Europe and Asia is targeted and the surrounding areas will be buried.”

  “It isn’t even winter there,” Carine retorted cynically.

  “I
check the BBC every day,” Jeb responded. “All of Europe is experiencing abnormally low temperatures.”

  “What do you mean they are targeted?” Misty asked with a look of mistrust.

  “I can’t go into those details yet. Just know that avalanches are next, followed by an arctic freeze and a creeping fog of densely polluted air that will sweep the remainder of the region. The devastation will surpass the tsunamis.”

  “First off, you’re crazy and I don’t believe you could possibly know this,” Carine quipped, “unless you have some secret degree in climatology you never mentioned before.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Right,” she continued. “Secondly, if you knew this to be true, why on earth are you telling us and not someone who could actually do something about it?”

  “I was still being convinced before the tsunamis. I wasn’t sure if they would really happen, but now that they have, I believe my source. I sent out emails to some news stations, but I doubt anyone will respond. I sounded crazy. And the reason I’m telling you is because there’s a lot more to it and I want to save you.”

  “Save us?” Jeb asked.

  “I can’t say anymore or I’ll lose you. It only gets weirder. I need you to believe before I lay out the details. You all have become my family here in Washington and I want you by my side in the end.”

  Misty put the back of her hand against Juniper’s forehead.

  “She doesn’t feel hot,” she told the others.

  “I’m not sick or crazy. You all promised to listen with open minds.”

  “It actually is pretty demented to be predicting such travesty. Millions of people would die if what you’re saying happens.”

  “I know. I’m not pro-death, I’m just trying to clue you in now so when I tell you the rest later you’ll actually believe me.”

  “Okay, this is crazy. We heard you. If it happens we’ll know you called it.” Carine rolled her eyes and walked to the other side of the bar to tend to a patron.

  “I’m really bothered,” Misty said, her face tight with discomfort. “This isn’t cool, Juni.”

  “Sorry,” she offered as Misty turned away. She turned to look at Jeb, who looked back at her with concern. “I’m not crazy.”

  “When is this all going to happen?”

  “Next week.”

  “Alright then. I really hope you’re wrong, but if not, I expect a superb explanation.”

  He sipped his beer and Juniper walked with her head down out the backdoor of the kitchen. She needed to be alone. She needed fresh air. She needed someone to believe her.

  The weekend passed and she made her rounds with the crazy secret. She told Brett and Teek, both of whom turned her information into a joke. They ragged on her throughout their entire Saturday shift. Roscoe was in charge of telling Clark, and Irene took the news with great concern. She feared Juniper wasn’t handling the aftermath of Ethan’s death well and begged her to see a grief therapist. She agreed in order to calm her cousin down, but also made her promise that she’d move to Washington with her kids if her predictions about the next large-scale natural disaster came to fruition. Irene made the promise, not taking the commitment seriously, but Juniper rested easier knowing the most important people in her life were in the loop. They all thought she was insane, but they’d come around once the truth unfolded. She just had to be patient.

  Monday rolled around and she headed to the forest. The trees did not scrutinize her sanity as her friends did, and she’d feel more comfortable among them until the humans she cared for most ceased their judgment. She figured their concern would rapidly shift to fear and she was ready to tackle their evolved collective emotion when the time came. The best she could do was give them space until that shift occurred.

  The forest was wet from a weekend of rain. Though she was getting a break of sunshine, the forecast predicted harsh storms beginning Tuesday and lasting through Friday. She packed appropriately and set up her water-ready campsite the moment she found a suitable spot near PJ Lake. The ride down was lovely, laced with huckleberry patches and meadow clumps. Deer grazed the hillside, acknowledging her arrival but not fleeing in fright. She was a welcomed friend here.

  The space around PJ Lake was a cozy nook buried within the wide mountain range. Brushy avalanche chutes were surrounded by giant silver firs that cascaded down the basin and surrounded the fresh water. The lake was fluorescent turquoise in the spring sun and the wild flowers surrounding it were brightly blossomed. Purple asters and burnt orange columbine decorated the lakeshore, making the landscape look like an exquisite painting. Juniper hoped the forecast of rain was wrong because she wanted to enjoy this view all week.

  She laid a blanket near the edge of the lake and made herself a picnic. She snacked on granola and apples while watching the water. The jumping trout were out and she tried to count how many she saw. Evening arrived and the air filled with the sound of croaking frogs. Their song joined the hooting owls and rumpus insects. It was a peculiar discord but soothing all the same.

  The rain arrived mid-slumber. She awoke in her tent engulfed in the clatter of the storm. The air was wet and chilly, so she put on an additional sweatshirt to stay warm. A quick look out the tent’s ventilated pockets and the picturesque view of PJ Lake was gone. Everything was shrouded in gray and blurred by the fast falling rain. She cozied up in her sleeping bag and listened to the sound of the sky falling. She brought a book to read but did not find the urge to interrupt this moment. With eyes closed she let the noise consume her.

  Come out.

  A voice emerged from the onslaught of rain. Juniper’s eyes opened.

  Come outside.

  It did not sound like the trees. The voice sounded closer, more human. She peered out the vented pockets of her tent, looking for the source.

  You cannot see me, Juniper.

  The voice had a think Brazilian accent.

  “Who are you?”

  Dip your toes in the pond so I can hear you better.

  “It’s pouring out there.”

  My message is important.

  Juniper was no longer taken aback by the strangeness of any given situation; she was over the shock. She stripped down to her underwear, sparing her dry clothes, and entered the rain.

  The rain hit her bare skin like icy spikes and she tried to ignore the sting. By the time she reached the pond she had adjusted to the prickly sensation. She sat on the wet, mossy lakeshore and placed her feet into the water. It was surprisingly warm.

  My name is Marisabel Rios. I am the Champion of Fresh Water.

  “You’re a person?”

  Yes.

  “How are you speaking to me?” she asked, spitting out the rain that fell into her mouth as she spoke.

  Through the lake and rain. Just as you use the trees. Don’t you speak to your Second this way?

  “No. He lives in my town. We talk the normal way. You know, with our mouths.”

  Well, that’s fortunate. My Second lives in Egypt and I have yet to meet him. How’d you get so lucky to have yours nearby?

  “The trees let me pick him. They said they found me so late there wasn’t time for them to select my Second.”

  Marisabel huffed in annoyance but kept her thoughts to herself.

  I hope you have chosen wisely. His role is crucial in the upcoming months.

  “I did.” Juniper’s defenses went up. She wiped her wet hair from her eyes and sat up straight. “Why did you reach out to me?”

  First, I wanted to let you know that our Champions of the Mountains and Air are safe, as are their Seconds. That cleanse will begin its unraveling tomorrow. I also wanted to check on your progress. Rumor has it you’re struggling.

  “I’m doing just fine. I didn’t have months, or years, like the rest of you to adapt. The trees sprung this on me a few weeks ago.”

  I’m not here to attack or criticize you. I’m here to offer assistance. You and I will be teaming up after the last battle, I want to be friends. />
  “We will?”

  So I am told.

  “Do you have a large following?”

  The current count is 250.

  “How on Earth did you get so many people to believe you? Everyone I’ve told so far thinks I’m crazy.”

  Once I deemed them worthy, I showed them the power of the river. Submerged and holding hands I was able to speak to them through their minds. I showed them what I know, showed them what is coming. With the power of the Amazon coursing past us I transferred my feelings and beliefs to them. You need to do the same.

  “How does that translate to trees? I can’t submerge a person in a solid object. Am I supposed to get them to climb a tree? Find a tree with a large hole and crawl inside? They’ll only think I’m crazier.”

  The forest is a wooded ocean. I imagine just being there, surrounded by miles of trees, is enough to communicate telepathically.

  “Even if it is, I have no clue how to do that yet. I still can’t control where and when I speak to the trees.”

  That you’ll never control. They hold that power.

  “Will they teach me how to speak to other humans through them?”

  Perhaps. It came naturally to me, but others needed lessons. I suppose water is easier to manipulate than rock or fire. Trees too. Once you learn how to do it, you need only imagine what you want your connected source to know. If you feel it, they’ll feel it too.

  It was amazing how clearly she heard Marisabel through the torrential rain.

  “So how are you talking to me? We aren’t touching.”

  Yes we are. The rain has drenched you and your toes are in the lake; that water is connected to my soul. My voice echoes from every little raindrop and through the lake into your mind.

  “You can talk to anyone in a body of fresh water?”

  Theoretically. I can hold a full conversation with you because we are equals; both chosen Champions of nature. Others, I can only speak to in images or passing thoughts. They never realize I am there; they don’t correlate their sudden feelings, inspirations, or imaginings to me. The only other humans I can have fragmented conversations with telepathically are those whose auras are already bound to the element of water, specifically fresh water. I send out generic messages every so often, hoping others might hear me. A large portion of my following arrived that way.