The Rotten Tree

It was down the stairs, near the curtain.

I remember it clearly.

There were rabbits with orange socks painted across the walls.

I ate sugar bread and watched them run.

Fly.

Dare.

Do everything I wish I did.

No, no pets.

Three friends.

Yes, all imaginary.

Paul with his jumpsuit, Mona with her long braid and Sylo with his hat. Sylo is just a name I came up with while the rabbits ran by. I don't think it ever existed.

I remember the day I figured the shadow on the wall was that of the cherry tree outside.

It never gave fruit but it was my favourite.

I danced around it like a pagan priest.

Under the rain, barefoot, in the autumn crisp.

As if at a family ritual.

But we didn't have rituals.

I don't even recall spending time with my grandparents.

I think they lived on the other side of the town where the windmill makes that woo-woo sound we heard in the car.

Yes, that sound.

It made me feel protected at night.

As if someone were whispering a lullaby just for me.

Woo-woo through the days, lullaby through the nights.

It made me happy.

The cherry tree? It should be this way - follow me.

I don't think I ever accessed the garden through the door. I used a secret path.

It was to the left...

Could you help me move the jar?

Careful, it's heavy.

How could little me displace it herself?

Sylo, Mona and Paul certainly helped me.

It makes you smile but that's certainly the reason I invented them.

Can you see that hole in the wall?

That's the secret path I carved to the garden.

It used to be a chimney and when the mantelpiece collapsed we hid the hole with the jar.

My mother's idea.

She liked to keep things neat even when they were crumbling.

I know, go figure.

Never mind, let's crawl.

Don't mind the roots and the branches, they won't hurt you.

The brambles will.

Careful.

Careful, I said.

See at the end of the garden? That's the ...

Crazy, I thought it was a cherry tree.

Do you mind if we take a closer look?

Thanks.

It is.

Coming here alone would have been...

After so many years.

They say it takes you by surprise and it does.

Do you think we could find the hole I had dug under the tree?

Of course, I had dug a hole.

To hide my snacks, else Sylo would have stolen them.

It was somewhere here, under the rock.

We just need to dig with our fingers.

It won't be too disgusting, I promise.

Maybe a little but that's...

Why, I thought the hole was larger.

Crazy.

Do you mind digging deeper?

I don't know why it's making me laugh.

I'm tired of seeing things buried, I guess.

You're right. Let's dig some more.

A box?

Could you hold it for me? I'll just... Don't move, I'll get a stone to break the lock.

Don't move !

Sorry.

Did I hurt you?

I'm curious too. Let's see..

A book?

And a doll.

Memory is a selective animal.

There's mould on the book's cover. Do you mind scratching it with me?

Crazy.

So that's where "Sylo" came from - the title of the book.

And I guess Mona was the doll.

Paul?

Gone with the wind, I suppose. Else he would have been in the box.

Sorry for dragging you through this.

What are you looking at?

The trunk of the tree?

No, I hadn't noticed it was rotten.

And the branches so dry they crack.

Can you see?

Right up there.

Nothing.

I'm just thinking.

About the wind.

That wooed and lulled at night

and quietly rot my past away.