The Riddle in the Tree

Submitted into Contest #152 in response to: Set your story in an oracle or a fortune teller’s parlor.... view prompt

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Friendship Urban Fantasy Drama

“Hey, look over there! Come on, we have to try it!” Gabby snaked her arm through Jake’s and he reluctantly let her pull him into the musty tent. Strung-up purple lights and strong incense greeted them as they stopped to let their eyes adjust to the dim interior.

“Greetings,” said a withered, almost imperceptible voice from the back. “Come closer and let Madame Gedau dispel the illusions that cloud the truth.”

Jake didn’t move, however, holding Gabby back as she started moving forward. “Maybe we should sit this one out. I’m rather fond of my illusions.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. Besides, this’ll only take a few minutes. Leave your doubts outside the door for once in your life.”

“Way to convince me.” Jake sighed. “Fine, but you’re paying.”

Gabby smiled wide and pulled him further in. They sat down in front of a squat creature swaddled in dark robes embroidered with all sorts of strange occult symbols. Her eyes were completely hidden by the robe’s hood and he saw now that she had an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. “Do you think she’s sick?” Jake whispered.

“None of our business.” She cleared her throat. “Good afternoon. My friend Jake and I would like a reading.”

He kicked Gabby. “Don’t tell her my name,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, but she just rolled her eyes, ignoring him.

Madame Gedau spoke through her mask, which muffled her voice slightly, forcing them to lean in closer. “Very good.” A long, bony finger emerged from beneath her left sleeve and she indicated the deck of cards sitting in the center of the table between them. “You, girl, shuffle them.”

Gabby lifted them up carefully and did as she was told, almost spilling them everywhere, reminding Jake why he never let her shuffle.

“Maybe I should give it a go,” he said, trying his best to sound helpful, but knowing all too well that he sounded like an ass. “We might be here all day otherwise.”

She peered at him out of the corner of her eye before setting her jaw and pointedly ignoring him. Finally satisfied, she put the cards back down.

Madame Gedau pointed at Jake. “Draw the first card and allow Fate to show you the path forward.”

“Fate? I thought you were going to tell us our future?”

“Oh my god, Jake, just do it already,” said Gabby. “You really know how to suck the joy out of everything.”

“Fine.” He took the top card and put it faceup on the table in front of them.

“Oh my,” said Madame Gedau, sucking in oxygen deeply. “This will be interesting indeed.”

“It’s a clock,” said Gabby, unimpressed. “So what does that mean, our time’s up?”

“Perhaps.”

The sound of hundreds of chiming clocks suddenly reverberated around the tent, and they both jumped in fright. Jake stood up, his eyes going wide at the sight of the forest surrounding him as he slammed his hands against his ears. He glanced back at Gabby, who looked equally scared and confused, but when he looked back at the fortune teller, she was gone, as was the table and the entire tent. The chiming finally stopped, and he put his hands down, looking around warily. They seemed to be in a small clearing surrounded by trees on all sides, light beaming down on them from the afternoon sun.

“What the hell? Gabby?! What the hell is this?”

But she looked just as shaken. “I… I don’t know, okay. Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm-”

She grabbed his shoulders and squeezed hard.

“Ow! Stop it! Stop!”

“Are you calm?”

“Yeah, sure. But now my shoulders hurt.”

“Just… be quiet and help me figure out where we are.”

Jake took a deep breath, then nodded. He walked over to one of the trees and touched the trunk, half expecting it to disappear, but all he felt was rough bark. “I can confirm that this is a tree.” He tried his best to inject some humor into his voice, but even he heard the passive aggression.

“Keep looking,” said Gabby from the other side of the clearing.

“Whatever you say,” he shouted back, immediately wishing he’d chosen different words.  He skirted the perimeter of the clearing, not willing to move beyond its relative safety, realizing that soon he might not have a choice.

“There’s nothing,” said Gabby, coming toward him.

“So I guess we’re going into the woods.”

“We’re not exactly Little Red Riding Hood. I’m sure we can manage.”

“She actually defeated the wolf,” said Jake, “so that analogy-”

“Oh shut up!” she said as she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the shade of trees. They walked for a while, hoping they were going in the right direction, when they started to hear a faint ticking sound.

“What is that? A woodpecker?”

Gabby gave him a side glance. “A woodpecker? You really need to get out more.”

“Well, what do you think it is, Miss Smartypants?”

“That’s clearly the sound of a clock. Which means there must be a cabin here somewhere. And therefore…” She waited for him to finish her sentence.

“People! Right! What are we waiting for?” This time he pulled her along, hurrying in the direction of the sound.

As they got closer, they started to notice the trees thinning out a bit, but still no signs of civilization. And when they arrived at the source of the ticking, their faces fell. The sound was emanating from a tree slightly smaller than those surrounding it, but still formidable.

“Well, isn’t this just fantastic?” said Jake, bending over to catch his breath. Gabby ignored him, moving closer to the tree.

“Jake, come have a look. Part of the bark has been removed. Someone’s carved some words into it.”

“Oh?” He came up next to her. “What does it say?”

“Read it for yourself. I’m not an audio book.”

“Fine.” He started reading aloud. “’What is my age? The clock starts at the strike of one’.” He glanced at Gabby. “A riddle, maybe?”

Gabby shrugged. “Maybe we have to tell it our age?”

“Maybe.” Jake faced the trunk. “I’m twenty-two years old.” Nothing happened. “You try.”

Gabby pushed him aside. “I’m twenty-three years old.” Again, nothing. “Hold on,” she said. “The clock starts at the strike of one. So maybe when we’re born, we start at age one. Like in the Chinese tradition?”

“I hardly think-”

“So if zero is one,” she began, cutting him off, then maybe we need to add one to our age?” They tried again, but the forest remained silent.

“I suppose it was worth a try,” said Jake, not wanting to make her feel completely useless. “How about thinking of it like a clock? We start at one, and count our age, and say the number on the clock?”

“I suppose it’s worth a try,” she said, mimicking his voice.

“Ha ha.” He imagined a clock face in front of him, and began counting until he got to twenty-two. “I’m eleven years old. Now you.”

“I’m twelve years old.” They heard a bird chirp in the distance, but otherwise that was it. “Damn it!” She felt like punching the tree, but managed to hold back her frustration before she bruised her knuckles. Squeezing her fists as hard as she could, she let out a grunt as she started circling the tree, looking for another clue. That’s when she spotted the axe, imbedded in a nearby trunk. She walked over to it and pulled it out with surprising ease. “Jake, look what I found!” She ran back to him.

“An axe? Hey, slow down with that.”

She stopped in front of him, considering whether or not to axe him in the head.

He took it from her, admiring the pristine woodwork of the handle. The blade itself looked brand new. “What do they expect us to do with… Ohhh.” He shook his head, laughing suddenly. “Oh my god, we are such idiots. ‘What is my age?’ Not our ages. The tree’s age.”

“The tree? Are you sure? How are we supposed to figure that out?”

Jake shook his head in disbelief. “You clearly never paid attention in science class. Too busy making cow eyes at Jonathan Baker.”

“Hey! That’s… fair, I suppose.”

“The tree rings,” he said smugly. “We need to count them. That’ll tell us how old it is?”

“Really? That’s an actual thing?”

“Yes, it is. But,” he began, hefting the axe, “in order to do that, we’re going to have to cut down the tree.”

“Oh, well, then this is all you, Mr. I Work Out Every Other Day.”

Jake smiled broadly. “I knew there was a reason for it. Let’s give this a go, then.” He set his legs slightly apart, pulling the axe back, and swung as hard as he could. The blade imbedded itself in the trunk, sending a small shockwave through his body. "Woah, that was intense.”

“That was quite the strike. Even I felt that shoot up my spine,” said Gabby. “Well, don’t stop there. Keep going.”

Jake nodded. He wrenched the axe out of the tree and struck again, the trembling in his body slightly less than before. He stood up a bit straighter, suddenly feeling stronger.

“Did your biceps just get bigger?” asked Gabby.

Jake glanced at his arms. “Huh, you’re right. Weird.” He took another swing and immediately let go of the handle as a wave a pleasure made his legs go weak. He slumped to the ground, suddenly feeling exhausted in the best way possible. He felt Gabby’s back against his as he heard her let out a slight moan.

“Holy shit, that was good,” she said. “What was that?

“You felt it, too? I don’t know, but…” He didn’t have any more words as he basked in the afterglow. He glanced back at her, and immediately stood up in surprise. “Gabby, your hair!”

“What?” She reached up, patting it to make sure it was still there. “Geez, Jake, don’t scare me like that.”

“But, Gabby, you don’t understand. Your hair’s short. And there’s a streak of purple in it.”

She touched it again, wishing she had a mirror on her. It was then that she noticed her painted fingernails. She held her hands out in front of her. “I definitely didn’t have blue fingernails a moment ago.” She looked up at Jake. “And when did you grow a beard?”

“A beard?” He touched his chin gingerly, caressing the new hair. “What’s happening to us?”

“I don’t know, but how about you grab that axe and finish the job.”

Jake swallowed hard, any lingering pleasure now gone. He took another swing, and another, when he heard a scream behind him. He turned, his eyes opening wide at the sight of Gabby’s extended belly.

She sat down and quickly lifted up her shirt. She stroked the tight skin, not quite believing what she was seeing. “Is… Am I…?”

“Fat?”

“Pregnant, dumbass! Oh my god, oh my god…”

“That’s what I meant. How is this possible?”

“I don’t know, but every time you cut into the tree, something happens to us. Help me up.” She grabbed Jake’s hand as he hoisted her to her feet. She walked over to the tree, looking closely at the words. “’The clock starts at the strike of one’,” she read again slowly. “Holy crap!” She turned to Jake. “I think I know what this means.”

Jake felt his beard again, which was much longer than it was a minute ago, and that’s when he realized as well. “We’re aging…”

She nodded. “The clock starts at the strike of one. When you started cutting down the tree, our clock started.”

Jake took a step back. “Then I need to stop. Look at you.”

“No, we can’t. I think this might be the only way out of here. I don’t think we have a choice.”

“I’m only a quarter way through. What are you going to do, just give birth on the forest floor?”

“If I have to. Do you see any other way out of here?”

“No, but…”

She put her hand on his arm. “Whose child do you think this is, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Craig, from the coffee shop?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot.” She took his hand and placed it on her stomach.

“Oh,” he said, feeling a light kick. Tears started rolling down his cheek. “You’re saying… but I thought.”

“You’re such an idiot sometimes.”

“I know.”

“Come, we need to escape,” she said. “And we’re not just doing it for us now. So take that handle and finish the job. And no matter what you hear, just keep going.”

He nodded, wiping his tears away. He gripped the handle and pulled the blade out of the tree. “Okay, here we go.” He swung as hard as he could, biting deep into the trunk. Not hearing anything behind him, he took a deep breath and did it again, and again and again. He tried his best to ignore Gabby’s eventual screaming, though it broke his heart, and then it was all he could do not to turn around at the shrill wailing of a newborn. He swung again, and the crying stopped, replaced by a contented gurgling. Jake glanced down at his arms as he continued, noticing the skin becoming more and more sallow. The muscles in his forearms were starting to sag as well. After every hit, the hair on his knuckles grew longer, first turning gray then white. He was almost through the trunk when he saw the first liver spot. He stopped, looking at it in surprise as sudden weakness overwhelmed him. Unable to stop himself, he collapsed from exhaustion. He turned to face Gabby, knowing he had failed them both, but wanting desperately to see her face one last time, but he was met with a mound of earth with a crude cross stuck in at one end.

“Gabby?” he called out, but all that escaped his lips was a rasping cough. “I’m sorry,” he wanted to say, but couldn’t even manage that. He laid his head down, the last of his reserves spent. He closed his eyes, waiting for the end to come, when another hand suddenly gripped his, pulling him to his feet.

“Come on, Dad, we can’t give up now. You’re almost there. Let me help you.”

Jake opened his eyes and looked into the face of his son, seeing both him and Gabby etched into its contours. He nodded slowly, unable to do much of anything else. His son moved behind him, holding him steady, as he was able to find that last hidden well of strength. With strong hands covering his own, they pulled the axe out of the tree together.

“One last time, Dad. For Mom.”

Together, they pulled the axe back and struck hard. The tree started creaking, and then it was falling, crashing through the branches of those surrounding it. Jake fell to the ground by the stump, his fingers shaking as he started to count the circles.

He sat back, looking up at his son and drinking him in. With an almost Herculean effort, he finally turned back to the fallen tree, willing sound to emerge. “You’re eight-four years old.”

“That is correct,” said Madame Gedau.

Jake blinked rapidly, his voice caught in his throat as she reached out and took the cards back into the folds of her robe. “And now I must rest.” She stood up, and with her oxygen tank in tow, slipped out the back flap of the tent.

Jake sat there, unmoving, his mind trying to comprehend it all, when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Come,” said Gabby softly. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jake just nodded, allowing her to pull him outside. “Did that…”

She put her finger on his lips and kissed his cheek. “I think I prefer you without the beard.”

June 30, 2022 04:54

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2 comments

Sharon Williams
17:28 Jul 07, 2022

Hi Ross, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. It was original, imaginative and well written. I'd like to read more of your work. Sharon , Critique Circle

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Tim Williams
05:53 Jul 05, 2022

Really creative storyline. Nice read.

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