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I see a dying tree, and it’s a fairly young one, so I pull away from Riley’s grip and walk to it. I lay my hands on the trunk and then put my nose to it, inhaling with my nose directly on the bark. I don’t know why it’s dying, but suspect there’s something missing in the soil here. That’s not something I would’ve known before. Is this something new for me? If it is, it means my already green thumb might get even greener.
“You okay?” Riley asks.
“Give me a minute, please,” I request.
And then I request enough of what the tree needs from nearby root systems. I can feel the difference, feel the willingness to give, the answering flood of energy ready to go where I want it, but I also do my best to communicate that I’d like permission. And I wait, listen, and focus on being open to the answer. I sense hesitation from one direction, acceptance from another.
I look at Riley, who is watching me with curiosity.
“This tree doesn’t have enough nutrients in the soil. Somewhere near here, there was some pollution if my nose is identifying it properly. Don’t know the details but I smell something’s ‘off’. My senses are more acute but I’m going to have to learn to translate them.”
“Faint car fluid scents,” Riley advises, nose twitching. “Someone might’ve driven in here and parked a bit. It’s kind of rough terrain comin’ in back on the road, so they might’ve sprung a leak somewhere and it leached into the ground.”
“So,” I explain, “If I weren’t thinking about the balance, I’d have the other trees fix this tree without giving it much thought. And it might hurt other root systems, other ecosystems, an anthill, or some other seedling that’s dormant and waiting for its turn to grow. But despite that I can do that, if I instead strive for balance, I’m asking for a little energy from a few places and listening for answers rather than just demanding it.”
“Yeah, baby. That makes sense.”
“If I were twenty-one and still super-green I could’ve seen this dying tree and if I had the powers I have now, I might’ve just directed energy here to fix it, not realizing what I could be breaking in the process.”
“Makes sense,” he says quietly. “But you talk a lot of fate, babe, and if fate made you identify me early, why would it want you to wait?”
“So I could learn patience, so I could get the thing I was missing inside of me to help me flourish without causing unnecessary harm to others.”
His eyes flash with understanding and he drops a kiss on my forehead.
I rub the tree trunk and send my thanks through my toes into the earth because though the tree didn’t get a giant surge of nutrients, it will get a trickle that I’m hopeful will help. And I’m going to help, too, by coming back here and checking on it, seeing if there’s anything else I can do to help.
I catch his hand again and we walk some more, quietly, until I get a familiar sensation. And I think that sensation comes from Riley. I think the way he can sense things in me is reciprocal. I feel more and more in tune with him as the days go by.
We’re here. Where it all went wrong.
I see him eying the rock he sat on with me on his lap. The air smells like apples and there’s an apple tree behind that rock.
“Is that from our apple? The one we shared from your lunch?” I ask.
“Maybe,” he says, staring at it.
I don’t know where the apple core got dropped back then, but it’s very possible it was dropped right here.
“The tree is young, the apples aren’t ready, but I really, really want to come back here later for some. I want to plant a tree in your yard from fruit that comes from it.”
“Our yard,” he corrects.
“Let’s go look,” I say softly and tug his hand toward the banks of the river.
He hauls me behind himself protectively when we get to three feet from the edge, and I loop my arms around his waist and peer around his warm, strong body. I see the water below, down about a three or four story drop. The water is calm. The river doesn’t look angry like it does in my dreams. Like it felt, for all those years in my mind.
“I wanna go in,” I say. “I wanna jump in.”
“Don’t be crazy,” he mutters staring down at the water while caressing my forearm that’s draped over his belly.
“Look how calm it is,” I say. “It’s not angry with me.”
He sighs. “I was pretty angry with it the last seven years.”
“This river didn’t deceive you,” I say softly.
“I swam the other day in it, trying to make peace with it. Swam this river my whole life. The water here connects to where the Arcana Falls are. I should never have been angry with it. It’s not what took you from me. You’re also not the one that took you from me. They were.”
