Saturday, April 2, 2011

Untitled

I've had this past bit of writing sitting on my laptop since the end of the summer. I'm not sure where I want it to go and I don't see being able to change it any more than I already have. I'm not one hundred percent satisfied with it, but I'm sick of knowing it's sitting around. It feels more like a collection of scenes than a true narrative, but that's how things go sometimes.


Eltonto lived in the center of town. His house was surrounded by many others, all very similar to his own. However, unlike these houses, his possessed something of interest. Eltonto’s home was flanked by a sprawling garden. In the center of this garden grew a tree. Its time worn bark a canvas, its thriving leaves, a welcome source of shade. Eltonto was always a dreamer. However, he did not possess a very sharp memory. Nor did he posses much by way of artistic talent, but that didn’t stop him from immortalizing his dreams in the side of the proud tree. For years he carved and chiseled every dream, every promise, and every hope into the trees hardened flesh. Although Eltonto’s dreams were very bold, they never did bear fruit, and neither did the tree. That is, until one day when the sun struck the tree’s canopy, creating shadows that danced atop the garden’s floor. As these shadowed dancers skirted the green stage of Eltonto’s lawn, he looked up to see one lone fruit.


The tree’s branch slowly bent downward, offering up its prize. Eltonto, never one to refuse a gift, grasped for it eagerly. His hands cradled the offering, and to his amazement it seemed to emit a red glow. Quickly, Eltonto rubbed his eyes; this did nothing but cause the fruit’s aura to blur out of focus. As his sight returned, Eltonto slowly lowered himself to the ground, using the tree’s trunk as a guide. Carefully, Eltonto used the sleeve of his shirt to polish his newly acquired jewel. After it was cleaned to his liking, Eltonto eagerly bit into the fruit. To his disappointment it wasn’t very sweet, nor was it very bitter. As far as fruit goes, his tongue had tasted far better. Yet, he was compelled to finish it. Tired from his unexpected snack, Eltonto slid further down, using the tree’s base as a brace, and his shoulder as a pillow.


He wasn’t sure how long he had been sleeping, but Eltonto was certain he couldn’t have been there for very long. Shaking the last remnants of sleep from his head, Eltonto groggily surveyed the area. While he had fallen asleep surrounded by shade, he awakened to find himself cradled by the tree’s boughs. Normally, he’d be happy for an excuse to languish in his garden a bit more. However, he couldn’t help but be disturbed by this turn of events. As he began prodding for a way out, the tree let out a disapproving groan. Quickly, its branches coalesced to form a wall, causing Eltonto to let out a defeated sigh. Dismayed, Eltonto shrugged his shoulders and rested his head against the tree’s side.


While English isn’t a tree’s native tongue, it has countless years to pick up a few words. Although it may be a bit more rigid, tree English is more or less comprehendible if you listen closely enough. Most trees only possess a limited vocabulary, gleaned from the menagerie of visitors that use the base of their trunk as a place to rest. From children exploring its crevices in search of crawling insects, to young lovers exploring each other’s words; trees are privy to much exploring, even if they are rooted to the ground.


This particular tree’s name was Leif. He had watched Eltonto build his home, and he had looked on as Eltonto paced his garden during many a sleepless night. Most importantly, he had allowed Eltonto to carve every detail of his dreams into his side. He never did protest, in fact he enjoyed the slow unveiling of each scene. As Leif explained all this, Eltonto couldn’t help but yawn. While talking trees are pretty interesting, it takes them far too long to say much of anything. Finally, as night began to fall Leif got around to telling Eltonto why he had kept him as his guest. You see, Leif wasn’t an ordinary tree, he was a Pine tree and as fate would have it, he was adept at helping others discover that which they longed for. Since Eltonto had done his fair share of pining over the past few days, Leif felt it would only be neighborly of him to give him a hand. As Leif explained all this Eltonto’s eyes widened. His crude scrawling had begun to glow. Outlined by golden fire, they reached for him. As he watched their flicker become a raging fire, he couldn’t help but smile as he felt himself become drawn into Leif’s moss covered hide.


After a slight bout of nausea and a bit of dizziness Eltonto was feeling like himself again. However, instead of sitting in his garden underneath a tree, he found himself in the middle of a sprawling field. To his immediate left was a dog. His fur was a fiery red, his eyes a wooden brown and around his neck was a collar. Emblazoned into this collar were all of Eltonto’s etchings. While he was a pine tree upon first inspection in our world, it turns out he was truly a dogwood. Eltonto couldn’t help but chuckle. Without a word, Leif began to saunter off, following the snaking body of a nearby stream. Situated next to the stream was a mirror. Emblazoned with precious gems, the mirror appeared emit its own light, as if it were unsatisfied in reflecting the light of its surroundings. Peering into the mirror Eltonto witnessed a vaguely familiar scene unfold. The mirror revealed a king; he looked like Eltonto, but his hair was grayed and his stomach protruding. The king’s appetite for gold was unmatched; everything in his palace was coated in the precious metal. His meals were served by autonomous robots, made entirely of solid gold. The din of their clattering joints reverberated against the castle’s barren walls. Engineered by the king himself these servants were trusted to do his every bidding. However, the king did not have this same trust for his human subjects. So he had them all encased in gold and placed in his courtyard to act as monuments to his paranoia. As the days stretched on the king yearned for someone to talk to, but try as he might he couldn’t get his robotic servants to oblige him. Dismayed, he placed his chin on his hand and sat, unmoving in his seat.


As a young man Eltonto had always wanted to be a king. However, the mirror did not paint a satisfying scene. A small house with a private garden would have to do. As Eltonto contemplated this, a peculiar man rose from the river. As his head breached the surface of the flowing water, his crown sparkled in the sunlight, and his robes clung to him like wet rags. Closer inspection revealed it to be Eltonto, only more kingly. Happy to have company, Leif and Eltonto welcomed their new companion and invited him to join them. The king begrudgingly accepted, but before he would accompany them he made sure to grasp his gold crown securely in his hand.
Their pace was slowed considerably by the silent king. Not only was he weighed down by his gold plated robe, he would constantly stop the party to inspect any object that glimmered or shone brightly. Unfortunately, no matter how vigilant he was in his search, he never did find any more of his favorite metal. Following the river, made the journey easy. Just up ahead a small plume of smoke could be seen rising from some unseen source. Leif’s tail wagged as he informed his companions that their next stop was just up ahead.


The factory that rose up to greet our travelers was less than hospitable. Sitting like a blemish next to the rolling blue stream, it emitted endless streams of noxious fumes. The inside of the factory was unbearably hot due to its never-ending parade of production. Furnaces roared as conveyor belts whisked along the empty husks of mechanical men. The men running the line were every bit as mechanical as the machinery they controlled. Sunken eyes and sallow cheeks stared blankly forward as they worked day in and day out. These gaunt men were unmistakably familiar. Sure enough they looked just like Eltonto. During his first days in his village, Eltonto had always longed to work in the city. It promised steady work and decent pay. Unfortunately, he never could obtain work there, so he had to be content doing odd jobs around town. Disheartened by dredging up memories of dashed dreams, Eltonto exited the factory. Regrouping outside the oppressive factory, the weary band of travelers was surprised to discover one of the workers had decided to join them. With a half hearted grunt he removed his cap and shook off the soot that had nestled on top of his head. Feeling properly acquainted he fell back behind Eltonto and Leif. The king, having decided his new companion was anything but trustworthy, gripped his crown even tighter.


Eltonto knew they were nearing the final leg of their journey before Leif even had a chance to say so. He was the one that had carved all of these scenes after all. Unfortunately, this last locale would be the most painful to visit. The scene was idyllic enough, a small home sat nestled in the countryside, surrounded by a white picket fence. A well manicured lawn sprawled out from the home’s front steps. The walkway which led from the front gate to the house was lined by an array of different flowers, each more brilliant than the last. Outside the home lay a fattened cat. As our motley band of travelers approached the front door, the languid feline raised its head and flashed them its best Cheshire smile. Shaken, Eltonto opened the door, fearing what he would see next. The door opened without resistance, but could not help but emit a low groan as our guests entered the home. Sitting in a large rocking chair was a woman. Eltonto never could figure out what she looked like. Her back initially turned to them; she slowly contorted her spine to greet her unexpected guests. Her face was completely featureless; her hair lay flatly against the porcelain of her barren countenance. Cradled in her hands laid a picture book, its spine was cracked and its pictures were bent and weathered by age. Unable to bear any more, Eltonto quickly turned on his heels to leave.


Knowing that each of his etchings had been explored, Eltonto was ready to return home. However, Leif announced that there was but one more stop. Unable to endure any more time in this new world, Eltonto began the short trek back to where his journey began. Oddly, Leif did not offer any resistance. After a quiet march back the travelers reached their final destination. Sitting where their journey had begun was a rather large box. Atop it was a bow constructed from the branches of the tree which had started this whole ordeal. Moving in closer to inspect the box each traveler marveled at the deep red color of its sides. In a flash the large cube unhinged itself, opening its mouth to reveal a jagged maw. Without hesitation it swallowed the king whole and chewed the factory man to a fine pulp. Standing aghast, Eltonto was forced to close his eyes as a fine crimson mist permeated the meadow’s tranquil air. Its hunger sated the present disappeared, leaving Eltonto to stand in silence next to Leif. Motionless, Eltonto stared into the distance. Despite what he had just witnessed, the fool couldn’t help but smile as the silhouettes of newly approaching dreams appeared on the horizon.