The Willow Tree

Chapter 6: Further Inspection

Warm water rained down over my head and down my bare body. I leaned forward slightly with my right palm flat against the tiled shower wall. Elbow bent and touching the wall that housed my bar of soap and shampoo, I stared at the decorative tiles as if they would aid in some way.

My encounters with... ghosts, had been nothing less than confusing, yet exciting and intriguing all at the same time. Each one had contributed to the new book I was writing, except now I was learning to pace myself for the next meeting of inspiration.

Proper sleep showed signs of gradually returning to my life, which I welcomed with open arms as my level of anxiety had become overwhelming. My body didn't feel good and my mind was playing tricks on me.

As I stood under the water in the shower, I felt as though the things impeding me were now fading outward in my peripherals to the point where they would no longer exist, nor concern me. I had started to become unstable, yet I seemed to be pulling away from it now. A confirmation of my sanity was still needed though.

Having something to look forward to was motivation for me. My new story was now that vessel, however strange it was to be writing about something only I saw at night by myself. People probably wouldn't believe me if I told them about my experiences, so I thought it be in my best interest to just accept the inspiration and create something unique.

Once I finished meddling in my own mind, I removed myself from the thought-freeing environment the shower had created. I wasted water as I stood there each time, thinking about new stories, playing scenes in my mind, going over past events in my life. Sometimes regret would slip into the mix, but I couldn't change the past. Any missed opportunities, or actions that could have been different. Everything was permanent – unchangeable.

It was a typical sunny day, one that started earlier than most of my recent days over the past few weeks. I had showered, eaten breakfast, dressed in something comfortable, yet I didn't know what to do with myself. Being left alone like I was by the ghost last night had brought me to a weird place. It may have been a ghost – one I didn't know – but its effect on me...

Pushing off from the kitchen counter, I walked straight to the phone on the wall to call my only brother. He would understand, he knew what it was like to live far away from everything; be alone.

As I pushed the numbers on the keypad, I wondered if he would even answer. I had lost track of the days, so there was a good chance he would be at work. When the numbers finished dialing, the phone rang a couple times before he answered.

"Hello?" His familiar voice was reassuring.

"Hey, what are you up to?" I asked.

"Not too much, just taking a break from working in the garage. What's up?"

I sighed. "Not too much," I replied, "same old shit."

"Even after the move?" he asked.

"How did you know?" I scrunched my face as I headed back over to the kitchen counter, leaning back against the rounded edge.

"Dad told me earlier in the week when I called him. About time you moved out."

"Yeah... not that I'm enjoying it though."

"Now you know how I felt when I first moved out here."

"Yeah," I replied slowly, eyes wandering around the kitchen. "But... not just that."

"Buy a dog, you'll be fine. Or find a woman to sleep with. That always works for me."

A short laugh slipped out. "Because we both know I'm like you." I rolled my eyes as if he would see.

"Whatever, do what you want." He brushed it off as usual when he suggested sleeping around and I turned the idea down. Younger brothers...

"What I want is to sleep and not feel crazy." I let out a breath, then stared at the fridge.

"I don't sleep all that much," he confessed. "Unless it's on the weekend of course. As for feeling crazy, join the club. Life is pretty screwed up. But you already knew that."

I did. I didn't want to admit it though, nor did I want it to stay that way.

"Your definition of crazy is not the same as mine. You ever see ghosts?" The question came out quicker than I anticipated, but it was asked.

"Ghosts? Like... dead family members visiting you, or some shit?"

"I guess you could say that."

"I dunno... can't say I've seen any ghosts of our grandparents before." His voice became calm, slow, as if he was considering the idea of it happening to himself.

"Yeah, well... I should get going." Defeated, feeling as though the call didn't serve the purpose I had hoped for.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed. Silence filled the air, but there was no click from either one of us hanging up. "There are crazy people in this world, some really screwed up ones. I think I'm pretty messed up. If you can see ghosts though..." He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully for once. "I guess that's kind of cool. I wouldn't mind seeing a family member again who has died." I never expected him to sound so sincere.

"Well," I laughed, then sighed. "I'll let you know if anything 'cool' happens again. Talk to you later."

"All right, bye."

"Bye."

Hanging up the phone, I wondered if what he said at the end of the call was exactly what I needed to hear. Whether I was dreaming or not didn't matter. My own brother thought the idea of seeing ghosts was cool. We had lost family members who were taken far too soon, so I guess it made sense that he wished to have another chance to see them.

I stared at the phone in its cradle for a minute, then snapped back to my current predicament. The sun-filled kitchen wasn't where I wanted to be. Turning the corner, I quickly walked down the hall toward the front door, where I laced up my shoes.

My hand grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, then I pushed the door open and stepped outside. A gentle breeze rolled across the porch and hit me. I felt alive. I took a few deep breaths in, then slowly made my way down the two steps from the porch to the stone driveway.

Car, baking in the sun, I passed by it without much thought. It was a good thing I bought something so old since it wouldn't be driven often; the dirt and bird droppings still collecting on the hood.

The willow tree always beckoned me, but I didn't mind one bit. I succumbed to its persuasion every time, not caring if it was day, or night. There was something about this tree, I just needed to figure out what it was.

Stopped underneath the branches and leaves, I inspected the trunk. It looked different in the sunlight, not just the colours being brought to life, but... something I couldn't quite explain. There was a feeling, or energy emitted from it that was opposite from the one at night. As I placed my hand on the bark to inspect it further, I felt as though the tree was full of life.

At first I removed my hand slowly, then quickly as my hand revealed something carved into the bark. There was a heart shape with initials inside of it: a j and an s, a plus sign between the two letters. Maybe there was more to this tree than I originally thought.