Once again, it is time to pull our roots and move on. A sense of déjà vu grips me as I plan where to go and how to go unnoticed. It is even more difficult now than the last time. As per the Vampires, we will need to take the back roads to avoid being seen or captured on the numerous cameras that dot the main roads. If it was just me, I wouldn’t have bothered. Once you have lived for a thousand years, you lose the wish to struggle for life. But there are young ones to consider. They were not around the last time, and I wouldn’t wish them to have the same memories we elders do—nightmares, I would call them.
It is difficult to believe that it has been four hundred years already. We were living in that quiet forest for thousands of years. The peace had made us complacent, and we hadn’t bothered to keep up with the world. Otherwise, we would have noticed when the river nymphs shunned the dirty waters and when the dead fishes started washing ashore. We were lulled into a false sense of safety, only to be rudely awakened by the sounds of horse carts.
There had been no warning, nor a declaration of war—they just fell on us with saws and axes. It was a massacre. They had picked the strongest and tallest of us first as we stayed limp in our places, still waking from our deep slumber. We were all stuck–our root had grown too deep, and our stems and branches were unmoving by the long disuse. It took us hours to get feeling in our roots, shake the soil around our feet and get away in the dead of night. We neither had the numbers nor the strength to retaliate.
The humans must have wondered where all the trees had all gone while they slept.
So many of us had died that night. Many others were gravely injured not capable of moving. We had to leave them behind to be chopped to pieces the next day. That day is still branded on our hearts for eternity. It took us decades to settle down in this new place; to start a life without fear; to stop waking up waving our branches like lunatics, fighting unseen enemies.
No, I wouldn’t impose those memories on our saplings. I wouldn’t be caught napping again.
As per what the birds have told, the humans plan to cut down and flatten this space where we live–they plan to build living spaces for their never-ending progeny. Well, they can take the land, but they wouldn’t touch us again. We can fight back—we have been practicing on windy days, moving our branches around and pulling out our roots to kick. But it is pointless. Humans will keep coming back with reinforcements. It makes more sense to move away. We will leave tonight.
Yes, we will need to push the young saplings to move—they are too intelligent for their own good and too sassy to deal with. They are moaning about the new place and adjustments, quoting a thousand reasons for why they shouldn’t leave, threatening us with tears. Well, they can cry and complain all they want once they are safe and alive.
The Vampires have offered to show us the way. These good people have always been our allies. They have been quiet neighbours who have slept hanging from our branches peacefully every day, leaving at night to eat and returning at dawn. Since they know their way around the city from their nightly hunts, it is easier for them to guide us than birds. The birds and squirrels will come with us, of course. They cannot let us leave with their nests and eggs and they cannot carry them elsewhere.
As the Vampires described them, the thought of the dark, smelly alleys infested by ghouls left me shivering. The narrow spaces with tall buildings on both sides will be a tight fit for most of us. Some of us may have scratches all over, others will have to leave branches behind. At least, we will live—if we make it to the end undetected, of course.
Because ghouls wouldn’t let us pass easily. We have denied them living space for far too long. But we could not associate with someone who moans all night, throwing things around and being a pest—there wouldn’t have been any sleep at all. So, of course, they will see this moment as a chance to vindicate themselves. They would probably fill our way and throw things around to create noise. Thankfully, the Vampires have promised to stand on our side adding to our numbers if the ghouls pose a problem. Together, we might win without fighting, which is imperative to our survival.
Because fighting will ensue noise and if the humans wake up and look out of the window, they will find an entire redwood forest standing on their backroad. There will be hell to pay!
So, we must go quietly. There is a “nature reserve” that the Vampires have told us about. They say that humans do not touch the trees over there—something about the law protecting the “nature”. It will be sad to lose the company of the Vampires eventually, though. They will have to return to the city and find new accommodations. The poor beings cannot survive too far from their habitat—as their sole source of food, an abundance of human populace is a must for their survival.
Also, they don’t fare too well around Fairies that apparently infest this nature reserve. I can already feel the little pests crawling up on my body, making home on my toadstools and throwing raucous parties all night. There will be no sleep.
Sigh! It will be a new territory and we will have to forge new alliances. Well, we will cross that bridge once we’re there. For now, we can just hope to survive.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 