A Visit to the Treehouse

A young boy somehow survives the end of the world while visiting a magical treehouse and talking to its occupant. And then he finds out he's not alone...

Bobby strolled along his favorite path through the glade, rocky hills and trees to one side, rolling, grassy, prairie to the other. A middling sun beamed warmth down on him out of a near clear sky, illuminating the hues of colorful birds and butterflies. Somewhere in the far, yet near, distance he could hear the sound of water gurgling and Cicada’s buzzing, and he saw a green lizard sitting on the branch of a bush. “A perfect day”, thought Bobby.

Further down the trail, Bobby saw something he had not seen before…someone had built a tree house in the gnarled old oak tree off to the right. Bobby left the trail and walked over to the base of the tree, and laughed slightly. Whoever had built the tree house had left a white sign down at the bottom. In large, block letters, the sign read “TREEHOUSE”, and had an arrow pointed skyward. The architects had turned varying lengths of two-by-fours flatways, and nailed them to the side of the tree heading up, up, up, for easy access. Bobby figured, “What the heck?”, and proceeded to the first step, intending to see this “tree house” for himself.

But, as soon as he touched the first plank, the two-by-four ladder was transformed into an old, wooden staircase that spiraled around the tree, appearing to end at a ramshackle old hut near the top. Bobby was more than a little astonished, but felt drawn up the staircase, seemingly powerless to resist. So, one step at a time, he began plodding upwards.

Bobby’s journey seemed endless; it felt like every time he made ten steps up, he lost five steps backwards. The staircase appeared to buckle and swirl, like a snake with a life of it’s own, inducing mild waves of nausea within him. The tree had lost all of it’s leaves, and the sky had turned a bloody orange that gave no warmth. Still, Bobby headed up, determined [possessed?] to make it to the top.

Gradually, slowly, the tree house drew closer and closer, until at long last Bobby was standing in front of it, on the gigantic bough that bore it’s weight. Upon examination, the tree house seemed to be made from bits and pieces of leftover lumber and plywood, looking to be just large enough to hold one person, or maybe two small ones. It’s weathering appeared to belie it’s age; it couldn’t possibly be that old, but yet it looked like it had stood there for hundreds of years. A large blanket draped across the side Bobby was facing, apparently concealing the doorway. Bobby called out “Hello” softly, but received no answer. Girding his courage and taming his trepidation, he decided to enter the shack, and see what lay within. And so, Bobby pulled the blanket back, and bent and entered the tree house…

He looked up when he was inside, and saw that once again a transformation had taken place. What had seemed tiny from the outside, was now a furnished room large enough to hold several people. A fireplace flickered in the corner, with a window and window seat beside it, and it was warm, comfortable feeling in the room. Near the wall opposite the fireplace, a withered old man with long, flowing gray hair sat asleep in a rocking chair, with small “snores” escaping his mouth. Bobby turned to look at the blanket he had come through, but it was now a heavy, wooden door, mounted on enormous brass hinges. He tried the handle, but found the door was locked, as he somehow knew it would be. He then walked over to the window, wanting to peer outside, and see what there was to see. But, the window was covered with so many years of grime and soot, that sight was impossible, even after a good wiping with a cloth he found nearby.

Bobby turned back to the old man, deciding he must waken him and talk to him, if he were to ever find his way out of the room. He walked over to where the old man dozed, trying to form the words he would say and the questions he would ask, not wanting to offend him in anyway, especially since he had entered without his permission. Bobby gently shook the old man’s arm, and the old man picked his chin up off his chest, and opened his eyes. Bobby was immediately transfixed by his eyes, his eyes were impossibly green, greener than the lizard Bobby had seen on the trail, greener than the springtime leaves of the flowering bushes, greener than the eyes of the serpent. They seemed to glow and pulse, like green embers from a green fire, hot, yet liquid.

Bobby completely forgot about all he had deigned to say, and stammered, “W-w-w-here am I”?

“Where are you?”, spoke the old man, in voice that sounded angelic and brusque at the same time, “why, you are everywhere and nowhere”, and then he fell back asleep.

Bobby shook his arm once again, saying, “Wait! Who…whom are you”?

The old man spoke once again, and said, “I? Why…I am nobody, and so are you”, and rested his chin on his chest again.

Bobby was puzzled, to say the least, he didn’t understand the old man’s answers, they seemed to be riddles, not answers. Looking at him, Bobby saw the old man’s eyes moving under his lids, and he decided to try again. Shaking the old man’s arm one more time, Bobby said, “Old man, of what do you dream”?

Looking at Bobby with eyes that appeared to soften a little bit and an apparition of a smile around his withered old lips, the old man said, “Why, I dream of unstoppable rains and mountain-high waves of water rushing through valleys, and of disease and suffering and tumultuous upheavals of the Earth, and of brothers turning plows into swords and smiting each other with them, and of crying women and children, and of breathtaking cold and unbearable heat. I dream? Yes, I dream. Behold!”. And, with that, the old man fell asleep once more.

The door sprung open behind Bobby, and a heated blast of air wafted into the room. Bobby put his head down against the blowing wind, and walked through the door, intending to descend from the tree house and go back home, the better to sort things out. But, when he emerged, he found himself standing on the ground. Looking behind, he saw that the tree was nothing but a pile of ashes. Looking around, he saw a bleak, barren landscape, where there once had been trees were only charred, lifeless twigs. The grasses were all scorched away, leaving nothing but red, hot, dirt. Even the rocky hills seemed to have melted and flowed down, leaving mere indentations in the ground where once they had stood tall and defiant.

And the silence…the silence, it was the worst of all. There was nothing to be heard for Bobby, no gurgling water, no chirping birds, no rustling leaves, no animal growls in the shadows…nothing, just nothing at all. Bobby clasped his hands over his ears, the silence was so loud it deafened him, and he silently prayed not to go insane.

Slowly, he regained control of himself, and stood upright, ears uncovered. The trail he had followed into the glade was scorched away as well, so he just started walking in the general direction of where he thought his house might be, though he was not optimistic of finding much there, given the chaos that surrounded him here. He walked slowly, disconsolately, tears in his eyes. The world had changed too much for him in the recent minutes or hours, he had no conception of how much time had passed. The only thing that remained the same was the sun, it was still where it was supposed to be, although it seemed warmer now. He walked without spirit, for he felt like he was alone, all alone, on his own in a wild, different, world.

Bobby soon discovered that wasn’t true, however, as he neared the location of where his home should be, he could hear crying; a girl’s voice crying. He picked up the pace now, and rushed forward toward the origin of the sound. Quickly, he came upon the location of his former house, which he saw at a glance was now nothing but a pile of rubble and ashes, even the chimney was crushed to the ground. In the midst of the rubble, he saw Amanda, his friend since the day he was born, their birthdays being less than six months apart. Their families had been friends, and he and Amanda had spent almost every day of their childhood together. And now, here she was once again, standing in the rubble of what had once had been Bobby’s house, crying softly, and whispering his name.

“Amanda?”, he spoke quietly.

Startled, Amanda jerked her head up, and saw him standing there. “Bobby!”, she screamed as she ran over to him and threw her arms around him. They stood there for a long time, just holding on to one another, until at last Amanda settled down a little and said, “Bobby, what happened”?

“I…I…don’t know Amanda”, he said quite honestly, his mind racing over the events of the last few hours. He started to tell her about the old man and the tree house, but decided it would be of no use to do so, she wouldn’t understand…just as he didn’t.

“You didn’t see what happened Bobby?”, said Amanda.

“No”, he replied, “did you”?

“No”, said Amanda, “I was asleep, and when I awoke, everything…every thing was like this”!

Bobby just nodded, and then they separated and began poking through the rubble; something that Amanda had already done at the remnants of her house. They found nothing of use, of course, and nothing of value, not even the remains of Bobby’s parents. Anything and everything that had at one time signified civilization was gone, up in smoke, if you will.

But then, just as they were about to quit looking, Amanda did find something of interest. There was a jagged shard of a mirror, probably from Bobby’s mom’s dresser, laying flat on the ground. Amanda picked it up, and looked at it curiously, a look of incredulity coming over face. She handed the shard to Bobby, who looked into it as well. What Bobby saw shocked him, or rather, it was what he didn’t see that amazed him. There was no reflection of him in the mirror. He held the mirror up and spun around, but there was no reflections of rubble or earth or Amanda or…anything. The mirror saw nothing at all, not even the bright sun.

Bobby dropped the shard, and it shattered in a thousand pieces on a flat rock at his feet. Bobby hung his head, somewhat overcome by it all. Then he reached and grasped Amanda’s hand and said, “Come, Amanda”.

“Bobby”, said Amanda, “where are we going”?

Bobby thought for just a few seconds, and said, “Where are we going? Why, we are going anywhere, and everywhere”, and they walked away.

Later, when the sun was vanishing behind the horizon, and they were too weary to go on, they laid down upon the warm earth. They huddled together for comfort and protection; the darkening night air was growing cold, the ground providing their only source of heat. And soon, they were fast asleep…

They were awakened in the morning by the lightening day, and by the return of warmth to the air. Bobby sat up and stretched, looking around at the still barren landscape. That was when he noticed they had a visitor.

Bobby poked Amanda with his elbow, and said to her, “Amanda, look!”, pointing at a spot on the ground not far from them.

She looked where Bobby was pointing, and espied probably the last thing she would expect to see in this new, desolate, wasteland they were now forced to call home. There, sitting on the ground not ten feet from them, was a songbird, seemingly standing there and looking them over. Amanda could see that the songbird was not in good shape, he stood on one leg because the other was bent under him at a curious angle, most likely broken. The wing on the same side hung limply against his body, feathers spread and not moving, apparently of no use to him anymore. Amanda giggled slightly, in spite of herself, in her mind she had a vision of the songbird flying directly into the grille of a Mack truck on the Interstate.

Bobby looked at her wonderingly, thinking what could possibly be making her laugh at a time like this, but his attention quickly returned to the bird, it being more interesting than Amanda was right now.

The songbird looked back at them, his head swiveling first this way, and then that. He wished he could warble a song to them, but he had lost his singing abilities long ago, so he just stood there and looked at them for a few minutes. Then, as if following a script, he began to hop away from them on his one good leg, his back to the rising sun.

Bobby and Amanda sat there on the ground for a while, watching him go, then Bobby stood up and dusted himself off. Amanda did the same, and then she clasped his hand once more and looked up at him.

“Bobby”, she said, “what are we going to do”?

“We’re going to follow the bird”, he replied. “He’s the only one that seems to know where he’s going”.

And, with that, they fell in behind the songbird and began their journey…

~THE END~

　

　

　

　

　

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Ennovy]

this really taken me on a journey unexpected, i love you imagery my dear writer...
you know how to hold my attention. this is a hell of a story .
guided by a cripple bird is a awesome surprise for me....novy