Under The Oak Tree -- Read Novels & Stories

She photographed my mother in the garden chair with her coffee, reading, not posing, simply there in the June morning in her garden, the way she was every June morning. She spent a long time at the oak. The June oak was fully leafed — the tree in its complete summer version, the canopy dense and specific, the light coming through it in the particular way of light through a mature tree in full leaf, complex and dappled and changing as the branches moved in the small June wind. She stood under it for a while. I watched from the kitchen doorway. My father came to stand beside me. We watched Anna stand under his tree in the June light and neither of us said anything for a while.

I turned left, and there on the ground was a tiny old book that described the path the old woman had told me about. Quickly, I began to trace it, following the book's guidelines. I had walked a little farther, my feet aching and my body growing more exhausted, when I finally saw it—the Whispering Oak standing tall, its bark twisted into faces, whispering softly as though alive. And there it was—the veil. I pressed it, and it opened slowly, creaking like ancient wood. Before long, I was inside the oak tree. The wind had stopped blowing. Everything was suffocating—dark and scary.

"I have my eyes on you" I scoffed. What is it with this witch? Her eyes on me? I can't believe her gut. But then again, what does Jo's mean. "I know what happens beneath The Oak." The compound was popularly known as The Oak. We have the Lady of the oak who was Sumaya, as well as the princes of the Oak. The servants and the slaves of the Oak who were also known as the Oak's commodity. But how could anyone claim to know what happens beneath The Oak? It sounds absurd. Especially the fact that their couldn't be anything beneath the plantation or the numerous chambers.

I doubled down by crying out, “Would he give you a happy pat on the back if you allow something to happen to his unborn pups due to too much heat?” “No please, go on please. But at least let me escort you to make sure you're safe.” He offered. I bent over and cried out again, adding some convulsive shakes to the drama. “Ah, please just go quickly!” He conceded. I smiled out of the corner of my mouth as I left him. Fool. It wasn't such a long walk before I saw the oak tree described by the note-sender. I couldn't see anyone there. I went closer till I got to the tree itself. I stood there, looking around.

Suddenly, they were all healed. Meanwhile in a different scene, The other faceless figure, the one who had ventured into the forest, moved with a quiet determination through the dense undergrowth. Sunlight dappled through the leaves, but the air was heavy with a sense of foreboding. The figure walked with a strong sense of determination towards a specific tree, an ancient oak bearing strange orange fruit. He reached out and gently placed his moon chain against the trunk of the tree. The forest floor trembled. The surrounding trees seemed to sway in unison, as if acknowledging a powerful presence of the moon chain.

Cat's last email replayed over and over in my mind like a sinister song, highlighting the shadows in Lachlan's past that seemed to loom over me. Then, I saw it: a grand oak tree, its gnarled branches stretching skyward, beckoning me closer. I didn't understand what it was doing here on a desert island. And more than that, how did Cat tell me to meet her at an oak tree just yesterday and here was an oak tree. What the fuck was this?

Standing in the place, Callum and I look at the tree. The words "This isn't over," inscribed into the bark, throbs in my thoughts like a horrible premonition. I'm convinced Callum can hear the beating of my heart in my chest. I can't take my eyes off the message; it appears to be mocking us and demanding that we take action.

They walked in comfortable silence, the only sound being the rustling of leaves and the soft creaking of tree branches. Meanwhile, under the sprawling oak tree near the soccer field, Tyler's friends huddled closer, their voices barely above a whisper as they planned their next move. The darkness seemed to amplify their intentions, casting long shadows that stretched like grasping fingers. The tree's branches loomed above them, its leaves rustling ominously in the wind.

I knew he was supposed to be here. Thinking he was yet to come, I sat under the oak tree and waited for him. I kind of see why he liked this place, the cool breeze brushing against my skin was so calming, and the leaves on the oak tree rustled with the wind. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, enjoying the calm environment. I think I was too engrossed in how good I was feeling that I did not know when I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I had slept, but when I woke up, I was moving in the air, my eyes immediately flew open, scared I was being kidnapped.

hummed in her chest. “No” trembled in her head. But her feet answered for her, moving before she could talk herself out of it. They walked behind the shed toward the quiet path that led to the row of old oak trees. The sounds of volunteers softened behind them until there was nothing but the rustle of leaves and the crunch of gravel under their steps. They stopped beneath the largest oak, the one that towered over the rest like a guardian. Jaxon shoved his hands in his pockets the same habit he had when he was nervous, though he’d never admit it.