The Boy and The Tree

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                    The leaves crunched under his feet as he walked into the woods

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                    The leaves crunched under his feet as he walked into the woods. He was in the mood to think. To think over the argument he just had. And to think about other things like how his watch rested to heavily on his wrist or how there were 62 seconds to every minute, meaning he was always two seconds late. How no one seemed to mind. How people instead got strung up over other things, like secrets. And how he held the biggest secret of all- He had walked right into a tree. Not just any tree, however. It was Henry, his favorite climbing tree.  Charlie looked up at Henry. There were plenty of grooves and notches. Thick sturdy branches, just within reach. Henry was a goose maple. His leaves were a perfect green, and were big enough to cover his face. There was a hole in the bottom of the trunk where people tapped for maple in the spring. He couldn't wait to carry the heavy buckets that would be filled with the sticky, sugary liquid. He felt sad that he would essentially be drinking Henry's blood but he was sure Henry would forgive him.

                    He had found Henry a few weeks ago, when he had needed to see the trees and remind himself that there was good in Hawkins. Ever since he had come to Hawkins, he hadn't felt like himself. Maybe because he was actually comfortable with himself for once. This time his parents were accepting and understanding. He didn't have to hide under his bed anymore when family friends came to the house. No, he was right there in the living room, speaking politely to the adults and causing trouble with the kids.

                    There were people all over in the town who already suspected. There was eyes that always watched. There were nice people as well, however. Eyes that slid past, and let Charlie become a part of the blur that was COMMUNITY.  There was Hopper, the polite police man who always affectionately ruffled his hair when the boy got a flat tire. There was Steve, the nice boy who lived next door, and babysat him sometimes. He always gave Charlie a cherry popsicle once he was done with dinner. Charlie always let the sticky water run down his chin, as he watched Steve stare at his brother with moony eyes. There was Joyce, the kind lady at the store and understood that sometimes you need Christmas lights in the middle of July. She was a nice lady and she sometimes saw him at the hospital, but she never mentioned it. There were also people he didn't like. There was a boy named Connor, who didn't seem to understand the phrase "FUCK OFF!" Connor also called him a lot of names, names that a gay kid shouldn't be hearing from kids. Or adults, for that matter. There was Nancy, the girl Steve was dating. She was just stringing him along. She was the reason Steve was still harboring under the delusion that he was straight. There was a police officer named Simon Simmonds, who always stared too long at him, no matter how much he glared. The officer also had a stupid ass name. There were good and bad in every town, but this town was unlike any other town, for reason's he was about to find out.

                   Charlie had been sitting in the tree for a while when he spotted the boy.  He was lost and obviously confused. His hair was a perfect chocolate brown and the boy was short. The boy was almost dwarfed by the soaring trees and their overhanging branches. Charlie had always admired the beauty of nature and the boy seemed perfect residing in it. He was like an elf. Maybe he didn't compare in height but it was in the way he moved. The boy moved, taking his step while looking around him in awe, gliding through the leaves as though he was nothing more than a dream. And then Charlie firmly decided that maybe he liked the boy. The boy walked on, oblivious to the fact that he was the center of attention to another person. The boy had stopped right under his tree, and as Charlie leaned out to get a better look, the branch snapped.

                     Screaming and failing, Charlie landed on top of the boy. The boy screamed, the sound echoing off the trees. "Shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Charlie said, sitting up. On the boys lap! Charlie blushed and rolled off the boy. Amidst all his movement, he heard the boy croak out. "I'm fine, just a little winded." He flopped onto the grass, looking up at the trees for a second. He whispered. "Thank you, Henry." Henry had lead him to his first interaction with The Boy. Admittedly, Henry did it in a very peculiar way but trees don't think all that much like people. "What was that?" The boy wheezed. Charlie propped himself up on his elbow, smiling down at the pink faced boy. "I was talking to Henry, the tree who I was climbing on."

                    "Oh," The other boy remarked. "Are you crazy?" Despite what the question suggested, the boy didn't seem all that concerned with the answer. It seemed more of a habit than an actual question. It actually seemed a normal response to someone who named trees. Considering for a moment, Charlie replied, "Not as far as I know." The boy mulled it over for a moment. "Okay. So that tree," Here he pointed at Henry, "His name is Henry?" "Yep, and that's Drusilla, Cecila, Marvin, Rick, and thats Marge." He pointed to each on in turn and finally pointed to an old withered tree. "I go to her for comfort." The boy sat up, leaning back on his hands. "I'm in need of some comfort right now." Charlie hopped up and helped the boy get to his feet. They walked over to Marge, their hands parallel to each other. The boy stepped up onto the branches. 

                      They climbed and climbed in silence. The unbroken silence stretched between them, filling the air with mystery and wonder. If someone told him Marge was magic, he would have told them that he already knew. Everytime he climbed Marge, he sat in serene silence, looking out over the trees. This was where elves would feel at home. As the wind moved past his face, he looked at the boy who had his eyes closed. His hair fluttered, the same way Charlie's heart did in that moment. The breeze blew the scent of apples and wood smoke. He could see Mr. Bradley piling logs, staring up the fire. They were probably going to have a bonfire that night.

                      He didn't know how long he stayed up there, but as the sky started to darken they made their way down. "See you soon?" Charlie asked. The boy nodded and Charlie nodded back. As the boy pedaled away on his bike, he looked over his shoulder to look at the boy. Then suddenly Charlie hit his forehead. He hadn't gotten the boy's name. And that boy was cute, even if he did have a bowl cut. That night, Charlie wrote in his journal. 'Remember the boy and the tree.' As he said his goodnight's to his family and his neighbors, he slipped upstairs and looked out at the stars. "Forget the tree." He said out loud, into the night. "Just remember the boy."

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 27, 2018 ⏰

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