Under The Oak Tree Season 2 Novels & Stories

We sit on the porch. The stars are out. The air is warm. --- The second day, Rick works in the garden. He pulls weeds. He waters the roses. He checks the soil. He talks to the oak tree. I watch him from the bench. "You talk to the tree," I say. "So do you." "How do you know." "Chloe told me." "Chloe talks too much." "Chloe talks exactly the right amount. You are just bad at receiving." "I am not bad at receiving."

Then the old oak began to fall. She drove deep into the course, pushing past the marked boundary into the older growth where the trees were close together and the ground was uneven and roots broke the surface in long tangled lines. I watched her go and felt something tighten in my chest that I recognized as the specific unease of someone doing something unnecessary in unstable terrain. The sound came first — a deep crack from somewhere in the older growth, the particular tearing sound of a root system giving way after years of dry rot underneath. Then the old oak began to fall.

The oak tree leafed out over four days — Tuesday the buds, Wednesday the first unfurling, Thursday the specific tender green of new leaves fully open, the canopy restored. The ribbons were partially hidden again, as they were every year when the leaves came back, the twenty-two years of them — the new ribbon her mother had tied in November, the ribbon Anya had tied at the solstice, all the accumulated years of marked moments — held by the tree in the private way the tree held things when it was in full operation. She stood under the oak tree on the Thursday morning and looked up through the new leaves at the sky beyond. She’d been doing this for twenty-two years.

As we slipped into the back of the SUV, a black sedan turned into the circular driveway. Deloris nodded toward the car. "Suzanna," I offered. "I was concerned." "Jane said he wouldn't be here. I trust her." "Nice woman," Nox said, adding with a grin, "with terrible timing." Even though winter was approaching, most of the giant oak trees held tight to their leaves. The moss never went away. It was the other trees on the property that stood like skeletons, their flesh gone, leaving only the naked bones. I sighed as the tires bounced upon the cobblestones. A glance out the back window revealed only dried leaves blowing in our wake.

“Well, looks like we’re stuck here together for now. We need to figure out how to get off this place.” Nora nodded weakly. “Do you think anyone’s coming for us?” “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But we can’t sit around waiting.” I got to my feet, my legs were shaking but I tried to maintain composure. “Let’s find food or water. We’ll need strength to survive.” I offered her a hand, and she took it, her grip surprisingly firm. I scanned the horizon, my eyes settling on a cluster of trees swaying gently in the breeze. My heart lifted at the sight of their green foliage, dotted with vibrant red fruits.

“Alright! Alright! My bad! I know you don’t do your niece! That’s completely incest!” The girl laughed as she received a stern look from Silas. I bowed my head. I just looked at the noisy dry leaves whenever I stepped on them. Do they have a relationship? The girl was just laughing at his irritability. They seemed used to each other. “What tree is this?” I asked while touching the big tree we stopped at. “Oak tree,” the girl replied shortly and stood beside me. We were out of the forest, but this area still seemed to belong to the homeowner. There was not a single person in sight, and only one type of tree was planted. The environment here is pure green—with dark green grass, big oak trees,