Trees that Breathe

Parents with no understanding of their children’s needs, and how the children find their own way to happiness.

TREES THAT BREATHE

The church, the school and a bed and breakfast had been built a long time before the houses that encircled a small park. The walls of the ancient buildings appeared to have been smoothened by time, and to have taken root in that small corner of the world. The new houses were in direct contrast to the old, constructed by a company whose only interest was to take advantage of the land with no respect for nature. So, in this way the hamlet that was once so tiny it didn’t even figure on any map became better known.

The sale of the new houses was announced in the newspapers and from morning to night the villagers suffered a plague of visitors. The Sunday trippers usually stayed in the bed and breakfast. It wasn’t long before the locals saw the arrival of furniture and other household goods, mass produced just like the new houses.

The new inhabitants weren’t very interested in the hamlet itself. Every day the men and women got into their cars to go to work. During the invaders’ absence the place was as quiet as it had always been. The new residences looked uncomfortable and out of place. They didn’t fit in with the local geography and they gave the feeling they should have been put somewhere else. At night when the owners had returned and their lights shone through the windows then, but only then, did the houses with their inhabitants form a small part of their surroundings.

They were young people who lived in the new houses, the marriages were new so were the cars and the furniture. The houses were identical inside and out. If a new article was acquired by any of them the rest didn’t delay in following suit.

The lives of these people was a permanent contest. When there was nothing left to buy, they asked themselves what it was they lacked. A child! And with the same determination they had got the other things they went in for a child.

A year later there was a baby in every house. The parents still continued going to work every day because as it turned out, after a baby’s birth special furniture was needed for the baby, and the latest fashion in baby clothes, feeding bottles, bottle heaters, pushchairs - a never ending list of things.

In spite of there being a baby in each house didn’t mean any change in the order of priorities. The houses were still impeccable and tidy, thanks to the women who came from a nearby village to clean them. Since the moment they were born the children were very clean and were taken out every afternoon so as not to untidy the house.

Time passed and the children grew. At three years old before going to nursery school they could hardly speak. They had never had a close relationship with other children because they had never had the opportunity. The cleaning ladies didn’t take them out to the park any more when they were older, but left them in front of the television, so that they could clean in peace the already clean houses. When, at last, they arrived at the nursery children were nothing more than spoilt dolls. One of the teachers had commented to the rest of her colleagues, “These children are so quiet and so tidy I don’t think we’ll have any trouble with them.”

One of the teachers didn’t agree and said, “I think these children will give us a lot of problems. Each one is used to living in a temple with the only human contact being the cleaning woman and part-time parents.”

What the teachers didn’t know was that the blame for everything fell on the children. Breaking a cup or a plate was something that just shouldn’t happen. When something slipped out of the cleaners’ hands they always said it had been the child. As the children knew nothing about the subject they were unable to defend themselves against the strong words their parents shouted at them about how to treat the house well and not to destroy it. As a result the children shut themselves up in their own little world.

It was difficult for these children to relate with others. Little by little they began to speak among themselves and form small groups. There were four children who always went everywhere together. They were Yolanda, Marcel, Oscar and Pamela. Their houses were adjacent between the bed and breakfast and the small Post Office. They were the same age and had managed, without any parents finding out, to have been inside each other’s houses. What the children found the strangest was that, not only was the decoration the same apart from the shade of colour, but even the contents of the kitchen were the same. There was nothing to differentiate the houses from either the outside or the inside.

The parents knew nothing about those strangers’ little feet stepping all over their over shiny floors. On good-weather days the children were allowed to play in the park. The only danger was the wood, but as they had to cross a busy road to get there the parents were not afraid that they would go off in that direction.

But the little group of children did. The trees in the wood, bent over from the force of the wind, against a grey sky, appeared to have life instead of the normal stiff and guardian like air trees normally had. Yolanda had asked the teacher where the wind came from and she had been told that in the sky there was someone who when he blew produced the wind. Yolanda wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but she accepted it.

As time passed the wind became stronger. It made the children laugh and they all had red cheeks. It was as if the wind animated them and opened their eyes to things that before had been unknown to them. The parents didn’t like the wind at all. There was more work in the houses due to the increase of dust in them. The children were told to be careful not to leave windows or doors open.

It was during this time the children began to communicate among themselves without the knowledge of their parents. The parents were so used to having a silent child in front of the television they didn’t notice anything unusual. One night, Yolanda was watching a film with her parents when she suddenly saw Pamela’s face on the screen. She said nothing to her parents but looked at them out of the corner of her eye to see if they had seen Pamela, but no, she was the only one who had done so.

Pamela received the news of her appearance on television without surprise, “That was when I was thinking about you,” was her reply.

Yolanda went home that afternoon and at the same time as the day before thought about Marcel and Pamela. The next day the three met at playtime and talked about the matter. Bit by bit the little group of small friends let other children of the same age in on the secret. They took turns in coming out on television and later began to communicate through the television. One night Pamela, who had started it all, told everyone what she had had for dinner. This was a step forward. Soon all the children were communicating in silence through the television, while their parents were watching a romance, a crime film, or a western.

The children’s communication through the television was a way of making themselves feel more secure. The fact that they all lived in similar homes gave them the sense of belonging to a brotherhood.

One evening, Oscar was watching the set with his parents when all of a sudden a horrifying scene appeared. Martin, a not very strong boy, was doubled over with the beating that his father was giving him. At the sight of this scene Oscar let out a scream of terror, his parents were incapable of understanding. Oscar got up from his armchair and left the living-room. His parents thought he had gone to bed, but Oscar grabbed a jacket and very cautiously opened and closed the front door behind himself. Yolanda, Marcel and Pamela left their homes at the same time, after having received the message from Martin. The four, plus other children from the hamlet, began to cry in a strange and terrifying manner. Without a word being spoken all the children as if in silent agreement walked in the direction of Martin’s house. Oscar rang the bell and after a while the front door opened. Martin’s father was struck dumb when he saw so many children. The four friends entered the house. Martin had told them he was in his room. The boy was unable to breathe and had cuts from his father’s brutality. His mother had done nothing to protect the little boy, but put herself on the father’s side. The reason behind the beating was that Martin had left a biscuit wrapper on top of a glass table in the living-room. His parents complained that he didn’t respect the furniture. Martin’s parents rang up all the parents of the other children to inform them of the children’s visit. The other parents got angry with their children for having ruined their evening when they were watching television. Of course they agreed with Martin’s parents and said that the children had behaved badly in going to Martin’s house.

In front of their parents the children said nothing, but each one in their respective bedrooms had decided to do something.

The parents had pushed the children to one side and the children had in turn created a world where adults were not allowed. From that moment on they knew they could not depend on their parents. Two camps were now formed, the children’s camp and the adults’ camp.

Martin’s father didn’t beat him again and the rest of the parents thought it would be better not to get involved with the children until a later date.

One day, Pamela’s parents wanted to spend it out of doors and went to wake her up.

Their surprise was paramount when they saw the empty bed with no sign that anyone had slept in it. They rang the other parents to see if she had spent the night with one of her friends. From all the houses came the same reply. There was no child present! All together the parents said, “How could they do this to us? They will pay dearly for this prank. I don’t understand why they don’t behave themselves better. I’d like to know who’s behind all this. And they continued asking questions that had no answers.

They looked in the school and the church. The group of adults was angry because they had had to get up early or because their plans for a day out were upset. They went to see where their children could possibly be playing.

There were no clues as to where they could be. The wood lay on one side of the church. In silence they all went off in that direction, each one with a head full of questions. Following the path through the wood, they soon discovered that the outside world didn’t penetrate the tall, noble and mysterious trees. Some felt afraid, others curiosity, but nobody felt indifference towards the atmosphere of Nature’s strength.

Martin’s father found them laid together covered with blankets. They were all dead! The parents were all struck dumb at the sight and couldn’t believe the evidence before their own eyes. In death the children had a serene aspect, of belonging to the wood much more than they had belonged in their homes.

The wind blew lightly in the tops of the trees. The smell of nature was very pungent. Each couple picked up their child for the return to the hamlet.

Yolanda’s father almost dropped her on hearing her voice; no, no he hadn’t made a mistake the little girl was dead. He then thought it was his imagination. But Yolanda’s voice was heard again. It seemed to come from the wood itself, not from any particular point. Before leaving the wood every parent heard its dead child’s voice. Martin was laughing, something he had rarely done in his short lifetime. The children were speaking among themselves. Some parents tried to communicate with their children but it was in vain. If they hadn’t communicated with their children in life why did they think the children were going to speak to them now?

The children stayed in the wood although their bodies were taken to the church so that the funerals could be held. Each parent was already thinking about what type of coffin to get so that their child would have the best. The one who spent most money was Martin’s father who said, “Look what I’ve done for my son.”

Some parents were unable to accept the death of their child. These strolled between the wood and the house trying to find an answer. When they couldn’t stand it any longer the houses were sold because they knew they would never have their children back.

Peace reigns in the wood. From time to time the voices of the children can be heard. Those children who had returned to their mother, the earth, and their true home where they had lived before being born, the place where they knew neither pain nor suffering.