Owen’s Tree

Owen’s Tree

Owen never enjoyed parties. They were packed, chaotic, and full of adults feigning interest in each other’s lives. Younger kids were free from it. Instead, they scrambled around, screamed for no reason, or demanded a piece of cake before lunchtime. His ears rang from all the commotion.

 Outside was quiet. Whenever his eardrums quivered, Owen snuck away into the woods. He never ventured far; he wanted to know when lunch was served. Three years ago, he tied a purple ribbon around the lowest branch of a tree, his tree. Now, he knew it by sight. Its branches held his weight. Owen scaled the tree to the thickest branch, as close as he could get to the top.

His house was his sole view now. Partygoers were still coming. They brought food wrapped in tinfoil and presents hidden underneath layers of multi-colored tissue paper. Everyone eagerly awaited the guest of honor. Up here, Owen escaped from whatever happened below. He was an explorer, a pioneer, a king, or a burglar planning how to get into his house undetected.

Down there, his head rattled from reminders, distractions, and heartbroken adults. His mother made him dress up in a collared shirt and the tie his grandparents gave him. Her eyes were puffy and red as she adjusted Owen’s tie. His father lectured him on his manners, then hid in the study. Owen heard muffled crying from the stairwell.

His grandfather phoned the family a couple days ago. Owen was to help plan Grammy’s surprise during the party. Grandpa apologized for his hoarse voice. Grammy’s voice was forcefully cheerful on the phone.

“Owen, I can’t wait to see you! I’m making your favorite. It’s extra-chocolatey. Only the two of us can have it. And don’t worry, I’m feeling much better.”

A lump formed in his throat. Why didn’t he say something? The elevation made it harder for him to breathe, so he told himself. Maybe it was time to go back, face Grammy. He had to tell her, and today could be his last chance. Owen spun around towards the trunk, put one foot on the branch below, and began his hurried descent.

A slow series of cracking made his hair stand up.

Owen’s heart skipped a beat. His hands no longer felt the rough branches. His stomach dropped, and his body was featherlight. The world around him blurred. The sky and treetops raced to the heavens, farther from him. There was a resounding snap. Something near him crashed into the bushes. Leaves twirled to the earth from above. Grass prickled his skin.

He faintly heard kids shrieking and adults chatting away. No voices came closer. Everything hurt and felt numb all at once. His eyelids struggled to stay open. It was even harder to breathe now. All he could do was turn his head to the side. A purple ribbon danced in the wind before his unfocused eyes.

He didn’t climb his tree.