The Finding Tree

Chapter 8 - The Darkness

The water pelted Janey's face and ran down inside the collar of her nightgown, creating cold rivulets on her body.  She didn't care, the coldness outside matched the cold ache inside.

She ran so hard, tripping, stubbing her toes, falling repeatedly in the liquid night feeling her knees smart and sting. Warm stickiness seeped in her jeans where she knew her skin had split.

The brambles scratched and ate at her hands, and caught at her sweater, but she fought through it and ran to the clearing. The wind and rain swept the tree's canopy around in a swirl, and the leaves all moved and flipped in unison.

Hugging the tree like it was something that could hug her back, she sobbed great hiccupping sobs into the soft moss and huddled on the bench. She got out the purple unicorn blanket and draped it over her shoulders, blocking the worst of the wind and rain.

On the bench, under the canopy, the downpour wasn't so hard.  The tree's thick branches sheltered her from most of the hard rain, but the storm raged on. Looking out toward the lake, Janey saw the lightning tumble and roll, glowing from inside the black skies like a firefly in a jar. 

The thunder boomed, and Janey flinched, whimpering into the trunk of the tree. Shivering her fear she reached out and hung onto the old gnarled trunk, and whispered a simple plea. "Please help me."

The wind picked up and she could hear the branches above crack and groan. A whipping gust hit just right and the tree shuddered. A great limb cracked off and was felled over the bench, in front of Janey.

She screamed, but the sound was muffled. The heavy branch was still marginally attached at its source and had stuck in the ground a ways out in front of the bench creating a covered space inside.

The bench and Janey were protected from the brunt of the storm. The leaves, abundant twigs and branches created almost a solid wall of foliage around Janey. Hardly any rain could get inside, and the wind was thwarted by the wall of greenery, the fallen limb provided.

Janey sat the flashlight on the bench with trembling hands and reached inside her backpack taking inventory of what her mother had packed. Her life consisted of a change of clothes, her toothbrush, extra socks, three granola bars, a thermos of water, and peanut butter sandwich.

Underneath she saw her favorite bear, two Barbies, and an assortment of small treasures from the top of the dresser. Would she be going back home? Would mom and dad be there?

Her mother...her father.  She thought of them as a whole thing. A united front, but this..this unhinging loss, created a black void nothing could bridge. Her fear made it feel like the solid ground underneath her had turned to quicksand and she was rapidly sinking. Struggling for a foothold and a breath that never came. Her heart was bursting with the bigness of it, and the tears wouldn't stop.

She couldn't bear to think of either of them so unhappy, nor could she stand the thought of them together only for her wellbeing. She didn't want that. Their happiness far exceeded the importance of her own, in her opinion. At even such a young age she hated being a burden.

Closing her eyes, and leaning against the bench, the tears slowed and her wild mind calmed. Holding the flashlight straight up, the roof of leaves above her felt like a cathedral for a moment. It was holy space.

A twitch of her lips gave a hint of a smile. Janey whispered, "Thank you for being here, and for protecting me tonight, tree. I'm very tired, will you watch out for me if I sleep?"

The storm blew itself out as Janey slumbered on the bench, her head on her backpack with the blanket as covering. The wind in the leaves sang a lullaby and Janey drifted to the deepest most peaceful sleep she'd had in weeks. But this time there were dreams.