Explain It Like I'm Tree

Graves

The sheepish grin returned as the kid scooted over. "Christopher. And, thanks."

Vivi sat next to him and looked across at the headstones. Lightning jolted her spine and she shot to her feet, her heart pounding as her field vision narrowed to one headstone.

Lewis Finch.

"Um?! What? D'you see something?" Christopher looked wildly around as Vivi tried to collect herself.

"Sorry. This is Finch... not Pepper... I just... I had a... Lewis. Lewis Pepper, though. He died, too. Just had a start." She forced herself to sit again and tried to smile. "Common name, eh?"

Christopher shrugged. "Maybe? I don't know any other Lewises at school."

She jerked her chin at the headstone. "Did you know your family Lewis?"

He shook his head. "No. He's an uncle that died way before I was born. I'm here for her," He pointed at the headstone just to the right of Lewis. "She's my Mom."

Edith Finch.

Christopher dug the tip of his sneaker into the dirt. "This is the end of the cemetery, with all my parents'-aged people here. It goes backwards through the family if you follow the path back to the swing."

"I'm sorry about your Mom." Vivi sighed. "Just you and your Dad, now?"

He shook his head. "No clue who he is. No hints in here, either." He lifted the worn notebook in his lap. "Mom was alone, and she died when I was born. Left me this journal and a house key, that's it."

Frowning, Vivi hedged, "Don't take this the wrong way, Christopher, but you're here without an adult."

"...yeah... they'll probably come looking for me here, soon. I've hitchhiked over here lots of times already. I probably still have a couple hours."

"They who?"

He fidgeted in his seat. "Foster parents. Or police, if they don't feel like coming to get me themselves."

"Jiminy swimming rootbugs, Christopher!" Vivi dragged her hands over her face. "If they find you with us, then we're going to be in worse trouble than you. We can't do a job like this!"

"I'm sorry! I really am, but I need help. If you don't help me, then I'll be next!" Christopher's face twisted. "You gotta help me. Please. I don't wanna have this hanging over my head! I don't wanna end up here, too!"

Vivi scrubbed her face a few times with her hands, then took a deep breath and faced him. "Okay, first off, what exactly do you have hanging over your head? What's this all about?"

Standing, he grabbed her hand and towed her back to the statue of the man standing stalwart atop the roof of a sinking house. "It started with him. This was Great-grandfather Odin. He was coming to America to get rid of the family curse, but he didn't want to let go of the family house, so he loaded the entire thing onto a ship and sailed it here." Christopher turned, pointing out into the harbor. "At low tide, you can see parts of it sticking above the water. It sank there."

Vivi stared out at the calm waters. That was not a promising start to the family history. From there, the story only got stranger.

A new house built in sight of the sunken remains of the old. The unfortunate death of a young child soon after completion. A series of deaths in every generation, following a strange pattern that kept one sibling in each generation alive long enough to reproduce, then killed that one off, too. No rhyme or reason to the cause or age of death. A house that slowly sprawled out and upward with each new addition to the family. Rooms progressively sealed off with each death, each converted into a private shrine complete with journals, poems, photographs, and articles detailing each death. The matriarch, Great-grandmother Edie, living to a ripe old age, watching over every death until her daughter and granddaughter fled the house, leaving her to die alone.

"The rooms are all sealed up," Christopher concluded, "but there's a way into each one. Mom drew me a map in here," he held up the journal, "and I've been in them all and read all their stories, just like she did. Most of 'em knew there was something wrong, but nobody agreed what it was. Some thought we had a monster. Some thought it was a curse. Some just... I don't know. Didn't care enough to keep living, maybe? We had one get away! Uncle Milton vanished. Went missing. There's no note, just a flipbook he drew that makes it look like he walked through a door that he drew himself and poof!" Christopher splayed his fingers out, then shrugged.

Vivi chewed her lip, mulling through the story in her head. "So. You're the last one?"

"Unless Uncle Milton comes back somehow."

"So, what do you think is going to happen to you?"

"I'm probably gonna live long enough to have a kid or two, then something bad is gonna happen to me." He turned back to his mother's headstone, looking sick. "Then they'll squeeze me in next to her. Or start a whole new section? Probably a new section. Then it'll happen to my kids. And then their kids, and their kids..." he turned back to Vivi. "Please, please you gotta help me. There's gotta be a way to make it stop. Great Gramma didn't bother, but there's got to be a way to kill it."

Vivi stared at the headstones in front of her, thinking. According to Christopher, Lewis and Edith Finch were about my age when they died. How long does Christopher have left? It could be six years, it could be sixty. It depends on when he has kids and how many. What happens if he chooses not to have kids? Is that the solution? No, no, focus, Vivi. I need to get Mystery and Arthur in on this. Whatever this is, we have to banish it and banish it fast. Preferably before the police get here. Or, maybe we hide and come back later and do the job after Christopher gets picked up. Maybe we can do this one pro bono. If anyone needs a break, surely it's this kid—

A howl shattered her thoughts. She raised her head just as Mystery leaped over the back fence, bounding down the path in his full-sized seven-tailed glory. Christopher screamed, falling off the bench as Mystery skidded in front of Vivi.

She gulped, turning to Christopher. "I can expl—!"

Teeth clamped onto the back of her sweater, swinging her around and onto Mystery's back. Instinctively she clung to his mane as he drew his legs together. A moment later they were flying through the air. He sprang from the edge of the cemetery back to the broken-down swing. Another leap cleared the fence, and then he was tearing up the winding drive, away from the house.

"What the fish—!" Vivi nearly bit her tongue on the words. She clung tight with one hand and swatted the side of Mystery's neck with one hand.

"Need your bat!" he barked. He skidded to a stop next to the van. "Get your bat now! It has Arthur!"

Vivi's blood ran cold. She slid off his back and flung open the van, rifling through their gear. "What?! What's got him?"

"The tree! The tree's got him! It's swallowing him up!"

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Note: I say "Oh, it's only going to be two chapters" and then they all go and pull this. I did NOT plan for this, it just happened. I also did not plan for a cohesive story at the start, but it's pulling itself together. It's so weird, I spent probably over a year totally unsure of how to deal with this Edith Finch section, and then it just begins hitting me. This is part of why I find it worth it to sit and wait out my periods of uncertainty on how to handle a story. Sometimes that means a year goes by, but then the words. Just. Flow. And it is the best feeling in the world.