Her

As I woke up one morning, last week I found the bedroom strangely quiet.

The alarmclock hadn't gone off so I turned to my nightstand and picked it up. Still some time left to have a good nap. But why did I wake up? I wondered. An uneasy feeling started to grow in my stomache so I focussed on myself staying calm. What had awoken me?

And then it dawned on me. It was so quiet, uneasily quiet. The usually regular breathing of my husband was missing.

Striken with terror I slowly turned around, preparing myself to have a corpse lying next to me. I frowned.

In the place of my husband lay a man shaped tree with facial features. The blanket covered most of its body but the wooden head and the branches emenating from it were a most horrible sight. I screamed in terror but it became worse. It opened its lids and brown woodenstructured eyes turned to me. I understood that this was my husband as I recognized his look und lost it completely. The world went dark as I fell into oblivion.

It must have been a while since I came to and the shock of seeing my husband still as a tree didn't struck me down this time. But it shook me nevertheless.

There was no mouth to talk to me, not any more movement than just a rustling with his leafcovered branches and the movement of his eyes.

A mixture of sadness, guilt and relieve resulted in a maniac laughter that turned into uncontrollable crying.

More out of habit I leaned against this wooden man in my bed and bitter tears dropped onto the crusty bark. He rustled with his twigs and as I looked up, I saw a drop of resin leaving the corner of his wooden eye. Swallowing more tears I rose and turned to action. I dunked a large amount of towels in our tub, draw back the blanket and covered his bare roots with the wet towels.

He needed to stay hydrated as I didn't want him to dry out. The leaves on his head started to move and I felt his gaze resting upon me. Surely there was anger in his wooden eyes. He was getting impatient.

I left the room as fast as I could, went downstairs to grab the shovel and go into our garden.

I started to dig. The ground was hard and dry as it hadn't rained for weeks and the handle of the shovel was moving merciless in my hands, tearing my skin down. My muscles started to hurt, I wasn't the most fit person and digging a large and deep hole wasn't one of my regular exercises.

There was just one goal I had to achieve. Keeping my husband alive.

At one time I heard my neighbours voice calling out, but I didn't care. I was way too much into digging. The pain in my hands and muscles had turned into a background noise. My mind was blended out. Dig! Dig! Dig! That was all I could think of.

Suddenly a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. I jumped, scared and on the edge of the next breakdown. The shovel was taken from my hands, I was turned and I faced the concerned look of my neighbour. Not being able to speak after this ordeal he had interrupted, he placed me on the bench on our porch and stepped inside the house. Distant, I heard his dark voice calling for my husband but there was no answer. Then it went silent.

Finally I came to my senses and a sharp breathtaking pain burned in my hands. As I looked down, I saw torn skin, ripped from the flesh beneath. Blood dripping down from the open wounds. My heart stopped and i swallowed down a new wave of panic. There was no time for this! I reminded myself. My husband needed to be set in earth in order not to die.

But now as I was out of my digging frenzy there was no way of me continuing to dig that hole. Desperation grew inside my chest, forming a bit lump in my throat. I thought I would suffocate on my own despair but at that moment, my neighbour stepped out. Pale and silent. A gush of wind moved the trees and we heard the rustling of the leafs. It was like a call of the trees. A reminder to us that no time had to be wasted. My neighbour took the shovel and started digging. I watched him silence, too tired to move. My whole body had gone numb.

After another hour the hole was deep enough. My neighbour climbed out of the hole and approached me. Sweat was running down the side of his face and his shirt. He nodded to me and I got up.

Together we mounted the stairs to the bathroom where we tended the wounds on my hands.

The disinfectant burnt like hell but it seemed like the only real thing in this whole cursed day. It was my anchor in a sea of madness. I clunged to this sensation like a drowning person on a safeline.

After this, we walked to the bedroom. My heart was stopped as I saw him lying on the bed. Slowly his wooden eyelids rose. Dried resin crumbling on the bark. How did he feel? Was he still alive somehow? For the first time I wondered about him and a sudden pang of guilt filled my mind. I had to shut these thoughts out. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to carry him outside. The idea of him being fully aware of this transformation brought me again to my limits. My neighbour seemed to sense my rising panic and touched me again with his heavy warm hand. No word left his lips. He just pointed me to the head and he gently put his arms around the lower stem of my husband.

I bowed over the wooden face of my husband and placed a gently kiss on where I thought his forehead might be.

I shoved my bandaged hands under the untidy whizz of branches and together we manage to lift him. My neighbour moves his roots above the end of the bed and I follow by tripping over the soft matresses of our bed. The roots go smoothly through the door but then we had to shift the angle and I had to lift my husbands top, to not crush the fragile roots at the wall opposite of our bedroom.

We managed to get out of the bedroom but the stairs are steep and narrow. My neighbour goes first. He takes all the weight and I wonder if he will manage not to fall. Another tragedy would be fatal, I think and in my mind I see him topple over, rushing down the stairs, crushing his neck buried by the tree that was my husband. Was this the punishment? No, no, I may not think like this.

We managed the stairs without fatal incidents and cross the living room.

The door to the porch was open and warm and golden summer sun flodded the room. Birds were singing and children playing. The sounds of their joy hovered over the gardens like a cheery cloud of happiness.

As I was to cross the door, some of the twigs were caught in the frame and broke. No twitch, no move but I still was scared.

Drops of resin appeared on the broken ends and another wave of guilt washed over me. How could I let this happen? I wondered.

My neighbour and I gently placed my husband in the hole and while I was holding his stem, my neighbour shoved back the earth.

After our work was done, we took a step back and gazed at him.

My neighbour finally put his arm around my waist and put a kiss on my hair. Whispering almost inaudible „You did the right thing.“ And again tears filled my eyes and I nodded „I know, but it still hurt.“ The embrace that followed was warm and strong and together we walked back into the house.

Him

I didn't sleep well that night. Something was disturbing my sleep. At first I just wondered why my limbs were starting to stiffen. Probably because of too much exercise, I thought. It was a strange dream. I was asleep and somehow aware of my sleep. My head started to feel very strange. This strange stiffness had reached my hair and it was growing stiffer and stiffer and at the same time expanding. And my toes! They seemed to spread out, too. Suddenly I was aware of two hundred tiny little toes that were connected to each other. And the blanket must have fallen aside as I felt a cold draft of air brushing against my toes. Distant whispers filled my mind. Strangely rhythmic and alien. It dulled my wondering mind into a deep and furthermore dreamless state.

The gentle touch of sunlight awoke me. Dizzy and very numb with sleep I enjoyed this somewhat enhanced feeling the sunlight caused. It felt refreshing, wonderfully energizing. I felt so much more alive than ever before in my life. My hair seemed to become alive, turning to the sun, filling my body with energy. Today would be a great day. I felt so sure. Today I would apologize to Becca and finally agree to the appointment she had made. I want to put things right. Damn, Becca was the best thing that had happened to me.

A movement next to me made me open my eyes. I wanted to turn but there was no muscle responding to my will exept my eyes. I looked into the terrorstruck eyes of Becca. What was the matter? Why was she staring at me? Why didn't she say anything? I wanted to tell her about my paralysis but another horror was to dawn upon me. I couldn't even find my mouth.

She gave a loud scream and collapsed next to me, leaving me all by myself. I couldn't even move my head to look at her. Only in the far corner of my eyes I saw her long dark hair curling on her pillow. Again I tried to move my arms, but wondered at the same time, what arms exactly were. Arms, arms, I rolled this word around in my mind. What were arms? I was curiously aware that I should know what arms were but the concept of arms had completely left my mind. I dozed off, wondering about this.

As I came to again, I saw Becca leaning over me. Her eyes filled with sadness. I tried to talk to her but all I could do was moving my hair. A soft rustling sound filled the room and suddenly Becca broke down first laughing, then crying violently. Fear rose in me. What had happened to me that my wife reacted in such a way? Why couldn't I move? Why didn't I recall what arms where.

A soft touch at my side interrupted my swirling thoughts and I returned to myself. I realized that it was Becca. She was still crying. Usually I couldn't stand when she cries but now...now something was different. It was like..it was like it couln't reach me anymore. Instead of yelling I now wanted to comfort her, drying her tears, console her sorrow. All I could do to gain her attention was to move my hair. Again that soft rustle. Did my hair always sound like this?

She looked up and to my own surprise I felt a thick drop of resin leaving my eye.

Her tears stopped suddenly and she jumped off the bed. There had been a decision in her eyes. A spark of hope ignited in myself.

Surely Becca would call the doctor to find out what happened to me. She had seen that I was unable to move.

To my utter disbelief I heard the water being turned on in the bathroom. Did she want to take a shower? Why didn't she call the doctor?

Minutes that went like eternitys passed and she finally returned with a large bucket in her hands. I watched her as she stumbled into the room and a sudden memory flashed up. Becca in the kitchen, carrying a large bucket to clean the floor. Why hadn't she taken the smaller one, as he had told her to? She had stumbled and fallen over with the whole thing. He had been so angry? But why? He now wondered. What had made him so angry?

A gush of cold air dried his toes to a dangerous extend, as she pulled back the blanket. She had made it without spilling any water from the bucket. And out of nowhere I was so proud of my beautiful, loving wife. I felt a refreshing wave washing over me, as she carefully wrapped my toes with wet towels. It felt great. With joy I rustled my leaves, thankful that she took such a good care of me. I had been dehydrating without really noticing. She jumped and hurried out of the roo, without even daring to look at me.

A wave of shame washed over me. Why had I been so impatient with that charming creature? She was such a devoted wife. Taking care of me even now, as I was not able to move an inch.

Warm sunlight shining on my leaves and wet towels keeping my toes nice and wet I gently dozed off.

Heavy footsteps approaching awoke my floating mind.

Hazily I opened my incredible heavy eyelids. My mind was filled with sunshine and the evergoing circle of breathing.

Our neighbour had entered the room and rounded the bed. His face was a wooden mask. Nothing showed any of his emotions, except the soft flicker in his eyes. He knelt right next to my head and I felt his breath brushing my leaves. His voice was only a whisper but all the emotion that lacked his face was in his voice. He hissed the words like an angry snake. „You will never raise your hand again you bloody bastard. She has suffered more than enough. Becca didn't think that this spell would work, but it turns out, that you got what you deserve.“ A wave of embarressement again washed over me. Another memory surface from below. Beccas eyes, widened in fear and pain. Blood dripping from a cut on her lip. The pulsating sensation in his knuckles from the punch he had delivered at her. Why? Why have I been so angry? Such a blurried mind. She had talked to someone. I didn't want that. I didn't want to loose Becca. „We will plant you in the garden and Becca will be happy, free from you. Finally able to live.“ Yes, I thought. She will live and I will rot in garden. Nothing I had done to that beautiful woman could be undone. Something had been done to me, I realized. Why should they plant me in the garden? Why not bury?

Our neighbour rose and left the room without another word. I was left behind and my mind was slowly decreasing.

Becca was back! Her lips touched my bark and I could feel the warmth of her body. She would take me back. Turn me back into a human being. I was so wrong. She must see my reget.

Her hands were touching my branches as I was suddenly lifted at my roots. What had happened to her hands?

They carried my out of the room and the journey clearly wasn't a pleasant one, but feeling Becca next to me was such a relieve. She would stay with me. I had seen it in her eyes when she had kissed my bark.

She hold me the whole time, when our neighbour finally covered my roots with delicious watered soil. Such a peaceful moment. Just her and me for eternity.

I barely noticed her leaving my side.

I see her standing with him, watching me. He takes her in his arms. This are arms! I understand. My mind is growing weak. It doesn't matter anymore. My leaves are turning to the sun and I am finally whole......I am sorry, Becca.

Makari Silver

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