The Trees Who Moved

At the end of each calendar year, the family goes to the same campsite. A triumphant way to finish strong and strengthen bonds that the year’s tribulations had weakened. Diverse families of all cultures, races and structures, all sharing the stories and occasional fibs of the trials they had overcome reunited year after year.

Every year, endless nights of singing, dancing and sight-seeing.

___

The family’s eldest daughter was finally old enough to clique with the other girls without being under the watchful eye of her overbearing parents. She joined as they braided each other’s hair and took turns sharing the latest gossip. The eldest daughter, however, was quiet. She lived vicariously through the lives of her new girlfriends and daydreamed about the day she might have an ounce of their confidence and feminine mystique. Her hair was dark brown and fell into natural, sun-bleached waves at her side. Her constellations of freckles and deep brown eyes made her stand out against the fair skinned blondes whose hair she folded neatly into long braids and coated with delicate flowers around the dancing fire.

As the girls gossiped throughout the unusually warm night, occasionally interrupted by thunder roaring in the distance, or the fire cracking in front of them, the daughter was the only one to notice that one of the girls was missing.

“She’s probably just using the bathroom or freshening up” She thought to herself.

She kept minding her business as the next girl sat in front, requesting two braids down her back with some blue wildflowers she had collected when she had first arrived that December morning. The girl whose absence still was not recognized by the others was supposed to be next to get braided, so the daughter waited as long as she could until the next girl started to get impatient.

In silent compliance, the daughter took the next in line, but her mind couldn’t help but wonder elsewhere. As she bound the last knot, her curiosity finally took over, and she decided to go check on the absentee.

She had no reason to care about this girl’s whereabouts. She had previously told the daughter only a couple minutes before her strange vanishing:

“You should speak more to drown out that awfully plain face.”

The girl had turned her bottom lip into a pout and batted her eyelashes as her posse harmoniously snickered behind her, like hyenas laughing around their prey.

As the daughter wandered around the camp, she finally found an allusive, golden-haired girl.

But is it her?

All the girls her age look awfully similar in the night where your features were only outlined by the fragile moonlight kissing on the trees and their delicate features.

When she found the girl, she was sitting on a log, making a flower crown singing a song that was unlike anything the daughter had ever heard. Its melody was so pleasant but had an eerie, other-worldly feel to it; that was uncomfortably alluring. The daughter approached the girl and said,

“It is your turn to get braided.”

Perhaps she sounded cold, but the girl quickly stood up, almost as if she was anticipating her turn, and stared into the daughter’s eyes.

After the girl’s piercing eyes examined the daughter’s face, she placed the flower crown on the daughter’s head and then turned and skipped into the woods in the opposite direction of the camp.

The daughter stood there, unsure of what to make of the girl’s sudden generosity and quick escape. The moment of silence was interrupted by a soccer ball that almost wiped the crown off her head. She furiously glanced over her shoulder to see her younger brother kicking his soccer ball with the other boys. She gave him a motherly glare, and he returned her look with a not so lovely hand gesture and a full view of the moon, on an otherwise cloudy night. The daughter waved him off in disgust and then followed the trail of flowers the girl left behind.

___

The brother and his closest friend at the camp, whom he always favored as a passing partner and practically grew up with, laughed at his sister as she disappeared into the woods. They were only a year apart, yet they were complete opposites in every way. She put on this quiet act, and she never fit in with the other girls but never ran out of things to say to him once they were alone.

Always criticizing his boyish smell or how he could never sit still. Or would complain that the other girls would always point him out and put a claim on him as their ‘camp crush’. Their only similarity was their dark features, yet his features rested much more harmoniously on his maturing face.

He knew the girls would sneak glances at him as he lifted his shirt to wipe the beads of sweat off his face, passing the ball with his friends. All his friends had the same sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, maybe that's why the girls treated him as such a novelty, he thought. They all lived in different parts of the country yet every year when they reunite at the campsite you would think it is a family reunion.

His mind cleared his plain sister and continued to kick the ball, pretending as though he didn’t feel the peering eyes and giggles of the girls as they snuck glances.

“I don't know how you do it.”, said his friend, beaming with jealousy.

He snickered and then took off his shirt that was now drenched in sweat. He hadn’t noticed how hot the campsite was this year. Usually, he needed to wear layers to make it through the cold winter nights that the end of the year brought.

“That will give them something to laugh about.” He threw his shirt to the side.

___

The boys huddled up and divided themselves into teams. They used a stick they had earlier collected among the brush to mark the boundaries of their makeshift soccer field. Conveniently, two pairs of long trees formed goals in the grassy opening, leading to a convincing field.

‘Those trees look good for climbing’, the brother thought as he watched the straight trunks elope into the sky, eventually turning to each other in eternal embrace.

Naturally, the brother self-appointed himself as captain and forward on his team. As the rumor spread about the upcoming game, all the kids started to gather to watch.

A couple of the parents showed up, judging in silence at the unruly boys steaming with testosterone ready to impress the girls and to finally have an excuse to tackle someone into the pact dirt below their feet.

The brother noticed his mother and father, hand in hand as usual, with his little sister at their side. His little sister insisted on collecting whatever wildflowers she set her sights on, and some of the fan girls even adorned her sprouting curls in a plethora of flowers. He felt a warmth looking at his infant sister, but pushed it down, for he was a man after all. He figured his older sister had stayed back to read another one of her books, not wanting to be amongst thirsty fan girls and sweaty boys.

___

The brother’s team was dominating possession; you wouldn’t have noticed that they only had seven players, compared to the opponent’s eight. The brother only noticed when he went to cross the ball to his usual passing partner, but the only thing that received the ball was a patch of grass that once stood his friend. The ball rolled out of bounds, and the slightly staggered referee told the players to grab water.

As the brother approached the sidelines, he was sweating much more than he would have liked, especially when it was supposed to be the peak of winter.

He glanced over his glistening shoulder to see his friend high up in the tangled trees, on his back, as he let his long limbs dangle in the breeze. It looked as if the branches and his friend were swaying in one motion, with one purpose, and then vanished.

The brother’s first thought was that he might have fallen off the tall tree, so instinctively, he ran as quickly as we could. Instead of finding his friend, he found his sister standing in an opening, completely still. As if she was in a state of shock.

___

“Where is he? He was doing so well, I bet he finally ran off with one of those fan girls.” the mother said as she looking over at the group of blondes that were now showering her daughter with affection. As if children were a rare occurrence to see.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later, dear. He is a growing boy after all.” said the father.

“Why is it so hot” he whispered under his breath, as he sipped his beer, fanning himself with his free hand.

The mother rolled her eyes in frustration.

“I’m going back to the tent.”, she got up.

“It's summer. Let the kid do what he wants.”

The mother glared at him, and he couldn’t help but immediately regret what he had said.

“Go get our daughter and keep an eye on her, I’m going to go check on our eldest and her unruly brother.”

The father got up, and headed towards his daughter in silent agreement, and the mother headed towards the entwined trees.

But he stopped in place. Every single person in the field had circled around his daughter, now covered in vines and flowers, chanting the most eerie song he had ever heard. His fatherly instincts made him realize what caused the unexplainable heat. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He immediately started to tear through the golden-haired crowd, ultimately getting stopped by one of the elder men. One he had shared laughs, beer and countless stories with.

Camaraderie meant nothing to the father now.

“Move.” He said, watching as the other fathers and elders got up, blocking him from his precious daughter. He noted his wife’s presence behind him, who most likely made it halfway to the camp before getting that motherly instinct triggered and instantly booked it in the other direction.

“It's the only way. She must pay the price.” The elder said.

The father, not completely aware of what is even happening exasperatedly responded,

“What the hell are you talking about? Give me my daughter now. We are going home. I don’t want any part of this. We’re friends, man. If this is some prank, it’s not funny. She’s just a kid.”

“I am not the friend you know. For years you and your friends have ransacked these grounds. Cutting us down, burning us, doing unholy things on our land. Your family and your daughter will meet the same fate as your friends who arrived last night.”

The parents did not know what to make of what was just said.

___

The brother frantically questioned his sister who still had a look on her face that was frozen in pure fear. She stayed silent as if the words had been drained out of her.

He sat her down and gave her a half hug, although it felt quite unnatural, any disagreements or differences they may have had did not matter to him right now.

“The trees.” She exhaled.

“What are you talking about?” He exclaimed, hoping she wasn’t being dramatic, immersing herself in one of her fantasy books she could never put down.

“They are trees.”

He rolled his eyes in frustration at his kookie sister. But couldn’t help but gaze into the maze of trees and then remembered why he had run over her in the first place.

“Have you seen my friend?”

Still petrified, she nodded and then pointed up,

“That’s not your friend”

The trees looked a little less tangled this time, as if their embrace had finally ended. Now that he thinks of it, the clearing that now holds a soccer field was once filled with trees. But there were no stumps, no holes, no imperfections.

Impossible. He had only watched Lord of the Rings once, but last time he checked trees don't just get up and walk away.

His sister, finally coming back to reality, looked at her brother who realized he still had his arm around her and promptly brought it down, and said,

“Remember that story the elders used to tell us when we were little about the campsite? I think, somehow, it is all true.”

The brother quizzically, half laughing said,

“You know I never paid attention to those, nerd.”

She scowled, saying “Now’s not the time” with her eyes.

She began,

“Hundreds of years ago, this campsite was rumored to hold the oldest trees of the new world. They were so old that they had studied humans for thousands of years. The way they talked, created life, and how they destroyed it. They watched them as they lied and burned one another, and eventually when they cut down woodlands, turning this very wood into camps where they selfishly bent the environment to their will.

They cried out to Mother Nature, begging her for the gift of humanity so that they could enact their revenge.

Mother Nature grieved for her children, granting them these wishes, only if they kept their secret and did not forsake their humanity.

The trees then studied the humans that made the camp their home every summer. How their hair fell, how they spoke, and how they walked. Eventually turning themselves into exact replicas, infiltrating the camp, intertwining themselves with the humans, and then one day revolted.

They turned every camper into a tree, so that they could live their life watching humans, seeing them for how they truly were. Forever feeling remorse for the nature that humanity continued to strip away.

Rumor has it, every single tree in this camp was once a human, forever trapped in wood, forced to watch.”

Her brother had the most solemn stare, the most serious he had ever looked, she thought.

“Listen, I don’t know if that’s true, but whatever is happening, I don’t like it. Let's find mom and dad. We need to go home.”

His sister nodded.

___

The parents, now meeting the same fate as their daughter, covered in flowers, as the golden campers chanted some ancient language. They were grateful for their infant daughter’s blissful ignorance, as she giggled as the flowers fell across her face.

They hoped their other children were safe at the camp, but then they caught the gaze of them coming out of the opening. They looked terrified.

Her quiet daughter had a fierce determination in her eyes and shouted,

“Are we going to become trees now? I braided your hair with flowers, I have not done any damage to your land, none of us have.”

The allusive girl who had lured the daughter into the forest in the first place turned to respond,

“Don’t you see it? You are all the same. I wear the face of a girl who has bullied you year after year. I watched as you cried yourself to sleep and said curses towards her under your breath. Who is to say you are not going to hold that resentment in your heart and enact vengeance against her and this land?”

The daughter felt the eyes of her family on her as they looked upon her with sorrow and guilt for not hearing her silent cries.

The boy who the brother saw swaying in the trees added,

“Humanity is fragile, you are not as certain as nature, you will always inflict pain and destruction no matter where you go.” He looked towards the brother.

“You are so incredibly arrogant that you ignored your sister’s pain for your own comfort. And your parents aren’t any better, soaking in the attention your infant sister brings, or drinking too much, neglecting your little sister’s safety.”

His parents were guilt-stricken.

The father, feeling useless, when his one duty was to protect his family cried out,

“We are not all the same! Yes, we all will inflict pain, but we also feel pain like you do. We laugh, we cry, we love. We cannot be as perfect as the sky, as stable as the trees, or as fluid as the water. That is what makes us human. Humanity has given us the power to admire the moonlit skies and the intelligence to bend nature to our will, just as our decomposing bodies sprout new life into your world. We cannot exist without one another. We cannot help our imperfections. So please spare us. We have lives. We have NAMES.”

The elder looked at him with wise eyes.

“We have heard thousands of names. They mean nothing to us. You have no names.”

The mother cried out, “Your thirst for revenge and justice makes you just as human as us.”

The tree looked like it had been struck with an insult that made his leaves, disguised as greyish blonde hair, wilt.

“They will never believe you.” He said as he removed the flowers from their trembling bodies with a gust of earthy wind. In unnatural swiftness, the clearing was now inhabited by the most beautiful trees with golden leaves, casting a shade over the family.

The family embraced each other. The youngest sister promptly began to pick flowers that were more vibrant than ever.

The parents looked softly at their kind son and brave, eldest daughter.

___

The family returned home, never going back to the camp. They held no resentment towards the trees.

They never spoke of the events again. Treating it is like a bad dream.

Surely, they were a little kinder to the earth, and one another. Often feeling sorrow when they saw trees swaying in the wind, wondering what their story may have been. And what their name was.