This tale is a continuation of the adventure to find our missing Aunt Matilda.
Read part one, where we search in Salem 1692 here.
Read part two, where we search in Space 2696 here.
Read part three, where we search in a Cyberpunk World.
Matilda is Missing: Part 4
As I turned the controls on the wrist of my Timesuit, I felt the world slipping away. It was the sensation of falling within a dream. Then it was over and I found myself standing in the warmth of the sunlight.
The skies were pure blue as far as I could see in every direction, and the land was verdant with life. The birds sang and the insects clicked and buzzed. There were large flowers and sporadic trees along a stream of crystal clear water. I walked to the edge and could see to the bottom through the slow moving currant. I watched small fish dart between rocks as they swam.
I took a deep breath, letting the clean air fill my lungs and exhaled a relaxed breath for the first time in entirely too long. I considered how long I had been searching for my Great Aunt Matilda. Time gets a little slippery when you’re traveling around through it. I realized it had been at least a day since I slept, and I decided to lie down on the grass in the afternoon sun.
I didn’t realize that I had fallen asleep until I heard a voice say, “hello.”
I startled upright and looked around. If my coordinates on the Timesuit were accurate, I should be the only person here. I didn’t see anyone or anything and decided that it was just a voice from a dream.
“Hello!” said the voice again.
My eyes shot open once more and I tried to lock them onto the sound.
“Hello!”
Finally, I spotted it. I just didn’t believe it.
“Hello!” the voice said, and this time I was watching it. The sound was certainly coming from a small dragonfly, perched on a pink Angelonia bloom.
“Hello?” I replied.
“Hello! Welcome!” the dragonfly said.
I gazed at the insect, wondering if I was still asleep and dreaming. “Can you speak? Or is my mind playing tricks on me?”
The dragonfly shifted. “Of course I can speak. All of the creatures of the Earth can speak. What sort of creature are you?”
“I am a human,” I said.
“Oh… a human.” The dragonfly seemed to consider this. “I’ve never seen a human before.”
“Well, I’ve never seen a talking insect before,” I said.
“Never?” the dragonfly asked. “Are there no insects where you come from?”
“There are plenty of insects. I’ve just never talked to one before.”
“That sounds rude. Unless… Do they not know how to speak?”
I considered the question for a moment. “They certainly speak. I think maybe I just never knew how to listen.”
The dragonfly seemed a little stunned by my response. “You didn’t know how to talk to the creatures of the Earth?”
“No,” I confirmed. “You’re the first one I’ve ever had a conversation with.”
“Who do you talk to then?” the dragonfly asked.
“I talk to other humans,” I said.
“That must get lonely,” the dragonfly said.
“It’s not lonely. There are many other humans where I came from.”
“It’s good that there are many. You could have as many as a hundred humans to talk to!” the dragonfly said.
“Oh, there are way more than a hundred humans in the cities,” I said
“How many humans live in the cities?” the dragonfly asked.
“It varies. Some cities have several million humans living in them.”
The dragonfly fluttered its wings. “How do they all fit!?”
“We build large structures that are many times taller than the tallest trees. They each live on different levels of structures like these in the largest cities.”
“How do the trees and grasses and fish and insects live in structures that are so tall?” the dragonfly asked.
“Oh, they… don’t.” I blushed. “The structures are designed only for humans.”
The dragonfly fluttered its wings again. It was quiet for a while. “Will you follow me to see the Grandmother? I think she will want to hear about these cities.”
I followed the dragonfly into the forest. The deeper in we went, the older and more densely packed the trees became. The tall growth gave way to a grove of Contorted Beech trees. At the center was an especially ancient looking one with an extra wide trunk and gnarly, twisting branches spreading wide and low.
The dragonfly approached it and landed on one of the lower branches that curved almost to the ground. “Greetings, Grandmother,” it said.
A wind blew through the canopy and the leaves began to rustle, and in the rustle I heard a voice. “Greetings, Dragonfly. And greetings, young human.”
A bolt of excitement passed through me as I realized I was going to be able to speak directly to a tree. “Greetings, Grandmother.”
The wind rustled again and the Grandmother said, “you are very very early, young human. What brings you here?”
“I have been searching through time for my missing Aunt Matilda,” I said.
“I doubt you’ll find her here,” the Grandmother said, “I believe you are the only human on Earth right now.”
“I was expecting that. I came here searching for a bit of rest after a series of misadventures.”
“Rest is something we can provide,” the Grandmother said. “Come closer, young human, I have a gift for you.”
“A gift?” I asked the Grandmother tree. “What sort of gift?”
The wind rustled through her leaves to allow her to speak. “Look to my roots, find the one exposed and warming in a beam of sunlight.”
I found the root, which had a hollow knot on the top to create a small basin that had filled with amber water.
“Yes,” she said, “that’s the one. Old Wind has helped guide a few select leaves into that pool of water. Namely, chamomile, stevia, and geranium.”
“It’s… tea?” I said, surprised.
“Pretty close to tea, anyway,” she said, and seemed to be smiling.
I bent and drank from my cupped hands. The tea was warm and pure and had a potent but pleasant earthiness unlike anything I’d tasted before. “Thank you,” I said, sitting and leaning with my back against her trunk.
“You are welcome, and welcome to stay as long as you need to rest. How do you like the Garden?”
“It’s glorious,” I said. “It’s enchanting and delightful. I get to see the Earth as it was before civilization and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever imagined. It is truly a paradise.”
The Grandmother was quiet for a long time before asking another question. “The Earth has changed by your time, hasn’t it?”
I sat in the shade of the Grandmother Tree’s leaves for a long time and listened to the sounds of the forest around us. Then she used the wind to rustle her leaves and said, “the Earth has changed by your time, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” I admitted with a sigh. “The humans have built cities and mined many of the natural resources. They did it to tame nature and make their existence more comfortable, but in truth, the Earth I know is not nearly as pleasant as this.”
The Grandmother seemed to sigh in return. “I was afraid I foresaw that state of the Earth.”
“Do you see the future?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “Not like you mean, anyway. The future spreads and forks and twists. It takes different bends and turns and influences the myriad decisions of all of the living spirits and the chance situations they find themselves in. There is no set future, only the potential of different branches. As a tree, I am merely an expert in understanding the paths of branches.”
“That’s incredible. I had no idea that nature was so wise before I came here,” I said.
“You’re from a time and place that doesn’t know how to communicate with nature. Now that you know, you may find you can understand it better in any time and place,” she said.
“Wait. You said there is no set future. But, I’m from the future. Both of those can’t be true,” I said.
“You are from a future, young human, not the future,” she said.
I sat with that, letting the implications wash over me. “If there are many, then they could be changed, couldn’t they?”
“In a way, yes, the futures could be changed,” the Grandmother said.
“How can I change my future into something better? Something more like this?”
I had bid farewell to the Grandmother Tree and the little dragonfly and set off to find a nearby glade, where the Grandmother said I might find one who could help me answer my question of how to make the future a better place for humans and nature alike.
I hiked for what felt like a mile before I found it, a green clearing in the dense woods. I entered it and felt a change in the energy of the air around me. It was like stepping outside from a quiet house. The wind blew in gusts around the ring of the glade, catching leaves and tumbling them through the air. The leaves swirled and swayed and then seemed to start to dance around the edge of the tree line.
As they approached, my eyes deceived me into seeing the face of a man. I blinked and looked again to see that it was, in fact, a man with a face made of swirling leaves and foliage. He stopped frocking and stood face to face with me. “Greetings, human,” he said.
I took the chance that my recognition of him was correct and said, “hello, Green Man.”
His eyes widened, and he twirled around to the other side of me. “Ah! So they do still know of me where you come from! The trees have whispered ahead that the Grandmother has sent you to ask for my advice.”
“I do. I come from a future where the Earth is all steam and machines and feels dismal compared to this paradise. I want to help make it into something better.”
The Green Man’s foliage swirled apart in a gust and collected in his form on the other side of me. “Aaah. Yes, there are some dismal futures ahead.” He spun and shifted again, and I turned to face him. “But, there are many more bright ones ahead than dark. You say you would like to change yours?”
I watched the shifting swirling form of leaves and foliage that was the Green Man. “I would like to change my world,” I said. “I want it to be a more hospitable place for humans and nature alike.”
“All it takes is a seed,” The Green Man said as he held out an acorn between us.
“An oak tree can change the future?” I asked.
The Green Man laughed. “No, human, a seed of hope. In order to change the future into something better, you must first hold the hope of what you wish the world to be. From there, your actions will support your vision of the world you want.”
“I’m afraid I am a little short on hope currently. I’ve been trying to locate my lost Aunt Matilda, but so far, the only thing I have found is a lot of trouble,” I said.
“Then, I shall give you the secret to hope.” The Green Man twirled around to whisper near my ear. “Gratitude.” He appeared in front of me again. “In order to unlock the full power of hope, you must bring your focus to the gratitude you feel for all that you already have.”
“But, I don’t know what I have to be grateful for,” I said.
“This, I can see. Would you like to know what you have to be grateful for?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then, I will show you,” the Green Man said. “I will show you a future in which anything you have now would be considered the finest of luxuries.” He reached out and spun the cuff controls on the wrist of my Timesuit. “I will show you what the Earth would look like without me.”
