Shady's Shadow

Mrs. Sherwood assigned our class to write a romantic poem regarding anything we see on campus. As she let class out for us to look around, pondering what we’d want to write about - I already had my subject in mind. I fumbled down the crowded university hallways, trying to maneuver my slight stature through the flocks of students fervently racing to their classes, tutor sessions, meetings, or whatever occurrence had them in such a hurry. Inhaling one giant breath, I pushed open the east end doorway, closing my eyes while doing so. 

I stood still, awaiting the door now behind me to close. When it did, the clusters of conversations and screeches of shoes scraping the waxed hallway floors had come to an abrupt quiet. New sounds began - elegant ones. Sounds of birds singing beautiful notes to each other like ways of communicating, as most Disney musicals from my childhood did - except less chirpy. I felt the cool wind gently graze my being as I stood atop the three steps, lifting my straightened brunette hair ever so slightly. This was always my favorite part. 

I slowly exhaled, opening my eyes to the grassy spherical landscape stretching out hundreds of yards away towards the other buildings. Outside was soft and colorful with its reddish-orange birds singing away, lavish green grass where the studying students lay, and the perfect blue skies seeming to go on forever and ever - this was my happy place. 

I paced down the three steps, planting my feet on the freshly cut surface, and made my way over to my usual working spot. I could overhear muffles of chatter by the fountain, where two students were scrambling through countless sheets of paper - probably freshman. Then one of them got up and darted in a full-out sprint towards one of the buildings, while the one left behind gripped his full head of dark curly hair in distress, flopping his backside onto the ground. Definitely freshman...poor things. 

For Mrs. Sherwood’s assignment, I planned to write a poem about my favorite tree on campus. The tree was extremely tall and beautiful, standing somewhere close to 80 or 90 feet high. Rather than walking what seemed like thousands of miles across campus back to the dorms, I came out here to study for exams, work on projects, or simply rest my head on the tree while listening to lofi instrumentals - drifting soundly away into deep thoughts and dreams. I loved this tree; so much so that I even named her - Shady. I came up with the name on the second day of school my freshman year. It was 96 degrees outside, leaving no one but myself under Shady’s shadow. The light portrayed her leafy features in distorted forms as her shade guarded me against the sun’s blazing rays - as if I were her own. This thought made me more anxious to get to my spot. 

As I approached Shady, I noticed I wouldn’t be alone. There were 3 people near her today. One boy with black greasy hair and an average build, laying flat on his back. His hands on his stomach while his head rested on the tree, his body forming a 90-degree angle. Another boy who was slimmer, sitting crisscrossed about 20 or so feet away from Boy 1, typing something on his laptop, yet still taking advantage of Shady’s shadow. Then there was a girl with long blonde hair touching her waist, wearing very short jean shorts laying the farthest away. She lay on her stomach atop a long and wide light pink blanket that could probably support 3 full-grown-sized men. Her seemingly attractive figure formed a straight line as her head rested on the backs of her hands. She was at the very edge of Shady’s protection from the sun. 

I set my stuff down on the opposite side of where Boy 1 was laying, unzipped my bag, and got out my laptop, journal, and pen. When I sat down, resting my back on the tree, I noticed that Boy 1 was snoring quite irritably...great. Thankfully I remembered my earbuds today, as I typically didn’t, and blocked out the sound of snoring Boy 1, replacing him with the sounds of smooth lofi jams. Now, I am in my happy place. Opening a new Word document and flipping to a clean page, I began to brainstorm what possible ways I could poetically narrate my story. 

The wind remained cool and light as it blew against me. I placed my forearm along the right edge of the paper while jotting ideas and a possible outline. Time felt fictional. 

“Ahhh, what the hell!” someone shouted. I snatched out an earbud and contorted my body around Shady to see what happened. It was Boy 1. I gazed at him, searching for something bleeding or swelling on him. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Are you ok?”

“I'm fine.” He replied. “An ant or spider or something just crawled off this damn tree and took a bite outta my shoulder.” 

I didn’t like the way he spoke about Shady, as if it were her fault he was bitten. I let it slide. 

“Did you find the biter?” 

“Think so. What’s left of em’ is right here in my hand.”

He held out his left hand, and there it was. It looked like an ant - or was an ant. I could still see the two rounded middle sections that ants have; of course, that is before they are squished to death. I turned back to Boy 1. 

“Maybe you should go wash it. I know there’s a bathroom in there if you walk by the auditorium.”

I pointed towards the three steps I'd come down, leading to the doorway. He shook his head, looking almost annoyed while doing so, beginning to grab something on his other side that I was unable to see. 

“No need to do all that when I’ve got my water bottle right here.” he declined, and began pouring water on his hand, then splashing it onto the beaming red area that glowed on his pale white skin. He closed the bottle and halfway turned back to me. “But thanks for the concern, miss....”

Oh, it was a question.

“Oh, Uhm, it’s Ivy.” 

“Wow...Ivy. That’s - unique.”

“Excuse me?” I spat at him. Is this guy serious right now? I’ve done nothing but help this jackass and now he wants to talk about names?

“Woah, chill out there, uhhh Ivyyy.” 

He sounded like he was attempting to take back what could have been an unintentional insult, but he was still dangerously close to getting punched in his stupid nose. I liked my name, because as Boy 1 said - it was unique. In all my 20 years of living, I have yet to come across another girl who shared my name. There was; however, a boy in elementary named Ivan. Kids in our class used to tease him by calling him, Ivy. Unfortunately, for Ivan, he decided one day that he’d had enough of the teasing, and before the biggest kid in 5th grade could even utter the name, Ivan swung back his right hand, and launched an uppercut like a rocket, right into the bigger kid's chin. Ivan was kicked out and I never saw him again, but I never forgot that day. He had the school buzzing for months. I was happy for Ivan. Maybe I’d give Boy 1 an Ivan special uppercut of my own.

Boy 1 continued “I’m not tryna offend you or nun, I just hadn’t heard that one before.”

“Oh really? What’s your name then Mr. My Name Is So Perfect.” I admit I could’ve thought of something better than that. 

“Dylan,” he said casually. 

Ok...so Boy 1 had a name. At first, I couldn't think of anything witty to say about the name. He did sort of look like a Dylan after all. Average round face, average black greasy hair, average build, a plain white hoodie with tight blue jeans in 82-degree weather. Yea, Dylan was about right. An average name for an average boy. AH HA, THERE IT WAS!

“Huh - Dylan - an average name for an average boy.” 

He appeared to be unfazed by my retort.

Ok, maybe that was mean. I thought about apologizing. He turned now, and rather than laying his head back on Shady, he swung his body the other direction, kicking his legs up in the air and resting the heels of his shoes on the tree. 

I turned back to my poem, still debating in my head whether to apologize or not, and right before I put my earbud back in, he started again. 

“This is one dumbass tree.” 

That did it. No more sliding for him, and definitely no apology! I took out both of my earbuds this time, setting them down while closing my laptop. I turned back to him and began.

“What!? How!?”

“Well for starters, it looks like any other regular tree. It doesn't have anything special or different about it.” He stated. “Secondly, it grew out here in the middle of all this grass with no trees anywhere near it. I mean, why not grow where it’ll have some company or something. Parents, siblings, cousins, or maybe even some friendly tree neighbors. But no, this little rebel chose to grow alone around a bunch of humans, who could shred it into thousands of pieces of paper - making some decent profit off it too. And finally, and most importantly, the stubborn thing has nothing but a bunch of little bitty insects crawling up and down its back, biting people who’re anywhere near it. Yea, this is one dumbass tree.”

He was ignorant. This time, rather than contorting myself, I completely turned my body around Shady, swinging my legs along with me, and sat upright while facing him. 

“You can’t get mad at the tree just because you got bitten by an ant that was crawling on it. It’s not like you absolutely had to lay your head on it anyways. There are plenty of other spots on campus for you to sit and snore as long as you want. If you were sitting on the benches instead, and the same thing happened, you wouldn’t blame the bench as if it suddenly grew a mouth and bit you. Not unless you’re stupid that is.” 

He thought about it, then shot back his reply. 

“Still the tree's fault for attracting the ants.” He said with a hint of wittiness in his tone. It was my junior year, and only now had I finally learned to hate a student who attended here. 

“Actually” a high-pitched voice chimed from behind me. The girl in the short jean shorts that I last saw lying on her stomach was now strutting over to where we were. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was wearing an extra-large blue t-shirt that read ‘Eagle Nation’ on the front in big blue and gold letters. Must be one of the athlete’s shirts - I wonder which one. She continued.

“It is your fault because you’re the one who went lying your head on a disgusting, uncleansed plant. That, along with lying on the bare ground where any and everything can bite you, sting you, and/or possibly even poison you. And FYI, poison and clear skin do not go together - in case you were wondering.” 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could this innocent living being cause so much hatred and disgust in people? I sucked in a quick breathe and was about to speak. 

“I’m sorry” Dylan inclined. He beat me to the punch. “But who are you?”

“Londyn Patterson.” She spoke her name as if it were obvious. 

“Wait, Patterson like...like Patterson Stadium?” Dylan responded.

“That’s right.” 

A slight smile peered on her perfectly symmetrical face. Dylan continued.

“Huh, guess that explains the big ass pink blanket. Looks like someone’s a germaphobe. What, you too rich to lay on grass?”

I didn’t agree with this Londyn girl and didn’t necessarily like her either with the way she spoke about Shady. But even with that, one thing was for sure - Dylan was a complete douche. 

“Ummm, nooo,” Londyn answered in the same obvious tone. “I just would rather not. And besides, my blanket kept me from being bit by insects. How about you?”

Dylan put his head back on the ground, staring up at the blue sky in silence. 

“Thought so.” Londyn chimed. 

“Hey Londyn” I began. Trying to hold back my irritation with both parties involved. 

“What do you have against trees? Are you not a fan of nature or something.”

She looked at me as if what I asked was the dumbest question she had ever heard. She closed her eyes, inhaled a deep breath, then opened her eyes and mouth simultaneously - getting ready to answer.

“Well for starters they attract rodents - which is absolutely disgusting. Secondly, they attract pests AND termites! Trees hide these termites, which eat up your house by the way, and pests are just absolutely disgusting. Anddddd, if that's not already bad enough, insects live inside them, coming out and crawling around all day every day. Does that answer your question?” 

“Relax Londynnn,” Dylan spoke sarcastically. “Your nonsense is gonna make that kid over there die of laughter.” 

I turned back around, contorting my body once more, locating the boy I remember seeing on his laptop as I walked over to Shady. He closed his laptop and turned his long-wiry body around to face the three of us. His legs and arms looked really long, and the palm of his hands broke off into five lengthy fingers. Unlike Dylan, he had nicely managed hair that was dirty blonde. He faced Londyn and began to speak. 

“I apologize, but your inquiry about this harmless tree and why it’s so terrible - it was just too much for me to bear.” 

Dylan began laughing. 

“Haha, you and me both.” 

“Well, on the other hand, I was also laughing at your logic. How it could possibly be the tree’s fault for you getting bitten by an insect.”

Dylan sat up and faced Boy 2, scowling at him. Londyn began.

“I don’t understand what was so funny about my statement. Was there anything incorrect?”

“Well...yes.”

“Oh really? How was I wrong then?”

“Better yet” Dylan interrupted “Since your Mr. Nature Boy in the flesh, give meee-” 

He paused for a second.

“How about five. Give me 5 reasons why this tree wouldn’t be better off as some brand new, freshly-baked sheets of paper.”

Boy 2 carefully stood up, placing his hands in his pockets, and began walking towards us briskly, while seemingly analyzing the tree.

“Not a nature boy, just Aiden. And to answer your question first Ms. Patterson, this right here is a White-Oak tree. Therefore, it is actually termite resistant.” He spoke in a solemn tone. He started again, keeping his eyes on Shady. 

“As for you Dylan, how about I give you ten reasons?”

“Knock yourself out “Just Aiden.” ”

Aiden looked unbothered by Dylan’s mockery. As if he didn’t even hear him. 

“Trees clean the air we breathe. More than half the water in this country comes from trees. They’re a sufficient and reliable food source for animals. Numerous cures and prescription drugs are derived from trees. They provide the shade that we’re all using as we speak, and have been using for the past hour or so, as well as providing shelter. They provide jobs to people all around the globe, which helps the economy. They can live anywhere between 100 to over a thousand years depending on the species. The White Oak, in particular, is the tallest one out of all the other oak species.” He stopped and looked down at Dylan, who returned to lying down with his feet propped up on Shady - yawning.

“And apparently, they make great footrests.” 

Aiden stood a couple feet away from Dylan, whose face still looked unconvinced. 

“Still think I’d rather have some money in my pocket from turning this into some paper.” Dylan responded snarkily while tapping his heel on Shady.

 “So what the air isn’t 100% clean, big deal. The only person that'd bother is probably Patterson.” 

I couldn’t take it anymore. I jumped to my feet and sucked in a quick breath. My sudden movement caught the group off guard - giving me their attention.  

“You are all missing the point. Trees are more than just plants that clean air, or give off shade, or even provide footrests. You can say all the scientific facts you learn in textbooks about trees, or even talk bad about them simply out of arrogance; but if you just put down the textbooks and remove the negative filters you have about nature, then you’ll truly be able to view this tree as I do. You’ll be able to see her beauty. It’s not about what they do for us but rather what they do on their own. Think about the times you’ve seen them change during the different seasons. In Summer their large and green, in Autumn they turn to elegant shades of red and orange, winter comes around and they catch the snow falling from the sky - creating a beautiful winter wonderland, and in spring they flourish once again. Trees are magnificent beings, not because of any predetermined notion you may have about them, but by simply being themselves.”

They stared incredulously, but I didn’t care. I sat back down in my regular spot, pleased at myself for not delivering any Ivan-like uppercuts, and reopened my laptop. Picking my earbuds up and placing them back in my ears, I could faintly hear Dylan making another sarcastic remark as I pressed play on my music - but it no longer affected me. I turned up the volume, began typing out draft 1 of my poem, and let the lovely sound of instrumentals gently take me and Shady away.