Explain It Like I'm Tree

Graves

It wasn't far to the base of the tree, but every step closer heightened Mystery's misgivings. The journey from the middle landing of the front stairwell to the top wasn't more than a minute's walk, but Arthur's face had closed down like a fortress by the time they reached the top.

"We can get at it over here." Arthur gestured to the right and turned aside just before they reached the porch. There was a smallish garden area at the top landing, fenced off up to the house. The picket fence was just below waist height, clearly intended as only a mild discouragement.

Mystery pawed at Arthur's leg. "Arthur, are you sure? It feels..." he ended his sentence with a growl and a whine.

"I know. I feel it too." Arthur's voice was tight. The tips of his fingers were trembling. "And I want to turn around and run right now."

That was more than enough for Mystery. "Then we go. Vivi can make apologies for us and some other group will be hired to deal with it."

Arthur shook his head and took another step toward the fence. "Can't."

The fur on Mystery's back stood up. "Can't?"

Arthur winced. "No, not can't. Won't. Have to go. It's screaming."

"Screaming? Arthur, what on earth—"

Arthur hooked a leg over the fence and slipped over. Mystery wasted no time vaulting it. "Arthur, you're the one that said we turn back the second it's over our heads! Arthur, at least reconvene with Vivi! We're split up!"

"I know what I said." Arthur wasn't walking so much as drifting toward the tree, his hand outstretched. "It's screaming. Nobody's listening. I can hear you, I can hear—"

"Don't touch—!"

Arthur's right hand rested on the trunk. A moment later, a thorn sprouted through his hand. Blood ran down the roots before he could draw breath to scream. Bark enveloped his hand and surged up his arm.

................................................................

The outside of the garage was nothing special. There were a few rotted siding panels and garden tools propped up along the wall. There was a rather large doggie flap in the door that Vivi could have crawled through to get inside. Would have crawled through, if she'd found it fifteen minutes ago. Now, she just stared at it, kicked it once or twice to watch it swing, then turned away and walked further back.

Large wooden fence between her and the backyard? No problem. She dragged a wobbly, sun-brittled plastic chair over with her foot. With a single fluid motion—designed to leave her weight on the chair as briefly as possible—she stepped up with her right leg, sprang, hooked her left leg up and over the fence, and straddled it. She plopped down on the other side, feeling momentary relief to have a barrier between her and Arthur.

Her mouth twisted at the bitterness of that thought.

Another tree flourished here. Hanging from a major limb was a crooked, wood-slat swing. Vivi frowned, batting at it. It hung at her head height, wound all the way around the limb. "Should fix that. Nobody could get up there to sit in it," she muttered, passing underneath.

A decrepit picket fence that could no longer pass for white lined an abrupt drop off. Vivi's eyes widened as she took in the view. It was impossible to see from the front, but the house was directly on a shoreline and the back overlooked a gorgeous bay view. Sunlight glinted off the calm waters, gently washing back and forth on the short, stony beachfront. A half-collapsed pier pointed haggardly out into the bay. A seagull glided overhead, harassing a few wispy clouds across the sky.