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hat abomination, that quintessence of impurity, that extravagant showcase of grotesqueness that lingered up and up into hideous formations unthinkable near the heart of Blackberry Forest was sometimes called Evil’s Fingers. At other times it was remarked as The Tree of Death, The Gate to Limbo, Evil’s Treehouse, and many more phrases designed to stimulate the imagination. These titles were, we regret to say, deserving, and there was much evidence in support of the fact. There was a greenish mist that hung around and about the immediate vicinity of the thing. Then, too, there were an unusual number of disappearances taking place in Blackberry Forest in relation to it. It was said that if a person were to come in close contact with the aberration, he’d be lost in limbo forever. This is something that many a Blackberry villager, as well as other inhabitants of foreign lands, had taken to heart. But the children didn’t heed the warnings. And little Timmy Hutchinson was one of those children.
It was around midday in early October. Timmy’s recreation for the day began when he spotted a little gray rabbit near the threshold of Blackberry Forest. The rabbit was quick, but Timmy managed to keep up. He chased it for several minutes until finally, and quite unexpectedly, he found himself tumbling into a pit. Looking down at his leg, he saw that he’d sprained his ankle. With an effort, he stood on his healthy leg and cried desperately for help, but none came during that first hour. In fact, none came during that first day.
He slept his grief away, hoping that the next day’s cries would carry to the ears of a passerby. He woke to the sun shining down upon him, and resumed his cries for help. As the day wore on, hunger plagued him. And now (can you believe it?) he began to feel thirsty. It seemed as if all these misfortunes were mounting up against him in an effort to further dampen his already sunken spirit. But he would not have to wait much longer for that help. A man, a giant of a man really, was making his way through Blackberry Forest with an axe in his hand. He was looking for the right spot to cut for firewood, when he chanced upon the boy’s cries. He sought out the voice and found Timmy at the bottom of the pit.
“Just hold on a second there, young lad,” said the giant of a man with a motion of his hand. “I’ll be right back.”
He returned, let down a rope and the boy soon climbed out.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much!” said Timmy hoarsely. The man noticed the limp in Timmy’s walk.
“I see you hurt your ankle. Why don’t you come back to my place and I’ll bind up your wounds?”
“Oh—I don’t know,” said a hesitant little Timmy Hutchinson. “I’ve been away from home for more than a day. My parents must be worried about me.”
“It won’t take long,” said the man. “I’ve got soup cooking over an open fire. What do you say?” The man’s last comment was too big of an enticement for little Timmy Hutchinson and he agreed to go along with the man. As he was leaving, Timmy noticed that he had come remarkably close to Evil’s Fingers. He saw the apparition standing tall and mighty above the other trees, that characteristic green mist hovering about it. The giant of a man was nice enough to carry little Timmy Hutchinson all the way to his cabin. When they got there, he bound up Timmy’s ankle, and brought the young lad an appetizing cup of apple cider. The man watched him.
“Aren’t,” began little Timmy Hutchinson, “aren’t you going to eat anything, mister?”
“Oh, I can eat later. There’s something that I have to do in the forest. Will you be waiting here when I get back?” Timmy nodded.
The man left Timmy to himself. It didn’t take long for him to finish his meal and when he did, he looked around the man’s cabin, taking note of all of his possessions. He noticed a bookshelf that was placed against a wall in the living room. He saw books dealing with the fantastic, such as pixies, elves, dwarves, and all manner of fantastical things. After that he found the bedroom and jumped on the bed. He fell asleep speedily and had one of the quaintest, queerest dreams in recent memory. He dreamt he was in the forest, standing before Evil’s Fingers and that he was having a conversation with the tree!
“All of them,” said the tree.
“All of them?” was little Timmy Hutchinson’s reply.
“Yes,” said the tree. “All of them. Bring them all to me.”
“And then what?”
“Then things will be made clear.”
“But the grown ups, they’ll try to stop me.”
“Sneak and do it.”
“Sneak? You want me to sneak and do it?”
“Yes. Sneak and do it. Bring them all to me.”
The boy awoke in the middle of the night, wondering what was real and what wasn’t. The dream seemed so true, so life-like. He then noticed that the giant of a man was standing in the doorway with his arms folded, looking at him. |
Mr. Theodore Hutchinson and Mrs. Marie Hutchinson were in a state of stupor. Their son was missing. He had been missing for more than a day. Mrs. Hutchinson asked the nanny, Granny Weatherall, when was the last time she’d seen him.
“I last seen little Timmy, if I recall correctly, yesterday morning. He said he was going outside to play and I didn’t pay too much attention to it.”
Mrs. Hutchinson went to all her neighbors (including some she disliked) but none of them had any idea where he was. And so Mr. and Mrs. Hutchinson sat in the parlor of their estate, worry encapsulating their thoughts.
“But what can we do but pray?” said Mrs. Hutchinson.
They then heard a knock at the door. Mrs. Hutchison went to answer and was thrilled when she saw her boy, but was a little put off to see the man who had, apparently, brought him home.
“Oh Timmy, Timmy, Timmy, don’t you ever, ever, ever do anything like that again! You had us losing our minds over you.”
“I fell, ma, but this man here rescued me,” said little Timmy Hutchinson hoarsely.
“Well, I must thank you,” said Theodore Hutchinson. “Mister—Mister—”
“Oh, you can just call me Paul.”
“Well, we’re certainly indebted to you. Would you like to stay for dinner? Granny Weatherall, our nanny, is preparing a scrumptious dinner. Roast lamb I hear. Would you like to join us?” Little Timmy Hutchinson tugged at Paul’s slacks but he wouldn’t have any of it.
“No. I have to get back to my cabin. But thank you for your offer.” Theodore Hutchinson nodded and Paul said goodbye to Timmy and his parents.
The next few days for the Hutchinson house seemed normal enough. As time went on, however, Granny Weatherall began to notice odd happenings with little Timmy. She approached Mrs. Hutchinson one pleasant afternoon and spoke her concern.
“Madame, have you noticed anything—how can I put this—” She paused for a brief moment. “—anything odd about Timmy?”
Marie Hutchinson looked at Granny Weatherall wide-eyed. “Why? Is there something wrong that I don’t know about? I mean, he seems perfectly fine to me.”
“Well, Madame Hutchinson, it’s just that he seems rather exuberant, or jovial, especially with the other children.”
“The children?” began Marie Hutchinson. “Interesting. That doesn’t sound like little Timmy at all.”
“No, it doesn’t. He’s always been the type of boy that plays by himself.”
“How long have you noticed this?” said Marie Hutchinson.
“Oh,” began Granny Weatherall, “I think it started right after he came back from falling in that pit. Yes, I’m almost sure of it. Ever since that fateful day he’s been associating with the other children of Blackberry Village more and more.” Mrs. Hutchinson thought on this rather strange occurrence for some time.
That night, when little Timmy Hutchinson came home from play, Mrs. Hutchinson called him into the parlor and questioned him. She asked him what was going on. He confessed that he didn’t know what she was talking about. She then asked him why it was that he had become what she termed “social". His answer came out much faster than what she anticipated, giving her the impression that he knew what she was going to ask before she even spoke it.
“We’re playing, mother. It’s a game called forest pirates. Do you wanna know how to play?”
“I told you before, Timmy, that I didn’t want you going out in the forest, particularly near that tree. The thing is evil.” Timmy shrugged his shoulders and said, “If you say so. Can I go now?” Mrs. Hutchinson was at a loss for words. But she determined that she would talk the matter over with her husband.
When he came home, she said, “There was something I wanted to talk about. Timmy’s been acting a little strange.”
“Define strange.”
“Well—he’s become social.”
“Social? With whom?”
“The other children, Teddy.”
Theodore thought on this for some time. “Maybe I’ll have a talk with him.”
“I already did that.”
“You did? What did he say?”
“He said that they were playing ‘forest pirates’, whatever that is.”
“Well then, maybe that’s what they’re doing,” said Mr. Hutchinson.
“Yes, but why does Timmy possess the sudden urge to play with other children?” Then she brought up the idea that his peculiar actions might be linked to Evil’s Fingers.
“Please, Marie! Please! Don’t mention that abomination in this house.”
“I’m just saying that I think he may have been influenced by it. Many a Blackberry Villager can attest to the evil in that thing. What if it’s gotten to Timmy?” |
The next morning came swiftly and Mrs. Hutchinson (as it was discussed) forsook going to work and took a carriage to Mayor Braddock’s estate. When she got there, she knocked and after a time was greeted and welcomed inside. She then climbed an extravagant flight of stairs and made her way to Mayor Braddock’s office. A lone assistant was situated just outside in a secretarial room and, as Mrs. Hutchinson was making her way to the door, she sought to impede her progress.
“I’m sorry, but Mayor Braddock is busy and can’t be bothered at the moment.” Mrs. Hutchinson was more than a little perturbed to hear this. She then drew herself up for a response.
“He’s busy you say? What kind of busy?”
“He’s planning his remarks for the village meeting that is to be held in two days’ time.”
“Well, it just so happens that I have urgent business with him.”
“I’m sorry, but he told me specifically to prevent any, and I repeat, any and all entrance into his office. You’ll just have to come back another time.”
Mrs. Hutchinson became infuriated. “Tell him that Mrs. Marie Hutchinson requests an audience with him. Tell him that she has some very urgent business to discuss. Furthermore, tell him if he doesn’t respond positively then the Hutchinson household will be forced to back his opponent in next Blackberry Village election.”
The secretary went and stayed for a brief amount of time. She then came out with a smile and said that Mayor Braddock had agreed to see her. Mrs. Hutchinson smiled a rather pretentious smile and gingerly made her way into Mayor Braddock’s office. He was a corpulent and gay gentleman, and seeing Mrs. Hutchinson enter into his office did not, initially, upset him.
“Ah, Mrs. Marie Hutchinson of the Hutchinson estate. How pleased I am to see you looking so lovely, as you are often wont to look. Look at you! You are just as splendid and as fantastic as you could possibly be. How have you been?”
“Life has been kind enough to me, Bradley.”
“And just how is that son of yours, little Timmy? You know, I’m sure that was really a hard and trying time for you and Theodore, not knowing where your son was and all. And what about that noble Paul fellow? You know, we really ought to give him an award or accolade for what he did. Why, if it wasn’t for him who knows how long little Timmy Hutchinson would have had to endure that trial. In fact, we could even name it after him and all those who receive it from then onwards would be the recipient of the ‘Paul, the Giant’ man of the year award. Uh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! That would be something, wouldn’t it? Uh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
It must be noted here—as can be easily perceived—that Mayor Bradley Braddock was quite the conversationalist.
“Timmy is fine. At least that’s what I would have said before he fell in that pit. The truth is, there’s something about him that’s bothering me and that is why I have sought you out.”
“So all is not well, you say? Really? Well, that’s too bad. Tell me, then, what’s bothering you?”
“Well,” began Mrs. Hutchinson, “you may or may not see this as a huge or glaring peculiarity, but myself and Granny Weatherall feel that little Timmy is behaving strangely with the other children. He’s playing with them, something he never used to do.”
Mayor Braddock said a plethora of hmms and ahhs.
She went on. “I came to you today to ask whether there have been any other strange reports concerning the children of Blackberry Village. I think,” began Mrs. Hutchinson, and here she was hesitant to continue, “I think it might have something to do with Evil’s Fingers.”
“Evil’s Fingers?! Oh, dear me! I do hope, Missus Hutchinson, for your sake and the child’s, that this has nothing to do with Evil’s Fingers. People have turned up missing because of that thing. It has the power to send people straight to limbo. Oh, dear me! Dear me indeed. You mustn’t speak that name here, here or anywhere. It’s unseemly to do so. It attracts the green mist, I’m almost sure of it. Oh, dear me! Dear me indeed!” Bradley continued on with his rant for some time.
“Mayor Bradley Braddock, you still haven’t answered my question. I contribute to your re-election campaign, so the least you could do is answer my question in a timely fashion, so that I may take my leave of you. Have there been any strange reports concerning the children of Blackberry Village?”
Mayor Braddock drew himself up in preparation for a response. He was sincerely hurt by Mrs. Hutchinson’s ranting and raving.
“In response to your question, I will say that I have heard of children behaving what you would call ‘strangely’. There has been a sudden surge of children turning up missing for a few hours, most confessing that they’d become lost in the forest.”
“Interesting,” said Mrs. Hutchinson.
“Yes, it is. But that is all I know. Now if you will excuse me, I must get back to writing my address for the bi-monthly village meeting. Good day to you, Missus Hutchinson.”
“Good day, Bradley Braddock,” said Mrs. Hutchinson as she stood and made her way to the exit. Mrs. Hutchinson went home and waited for her husband to return from work.
Little did they know, however, that an event was about to happen that would change the course of history for all of Blackberry Village and its neighbors.
The next morning came swiftly. Mrs. Hutchinson went to Timmy’s room and was perturbed to find that he wasn’t there. She made her way down the elaborate staircase to the ground floor and into the kitchen. Granny Weatherall was making biscuits for breakfast.
“Have you seen Timmy, Granny Weatherall? He’s not in his room. Has he come down here at all?” Granny Weatherall turned around and shook her head.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Hutchinson went to answer and saw an old friend, Darlene Fields.
“Oh my God, Marie! Have you or your son seen Christie? She’s been missing since late last night.” Mrs. Hutchinson was at a loss for words. Her mouth was opened but no words were coming out. Finally she managed something.
“Actually, I haven’t seen her nor Timmy. Would you like to come in? Granny Weatherall is making us some breakfast biscuits.”
“So your son’s missing too? I’m sorry but I have to decline your offer. I have to find my daughter.” Darlene scampered away and Marie noticed that toward the horizon there was a good many people in the streets, seemingly in perplexity. More and more concerned parents came to her door and she began to realize the horrible truth. The children were missing! All of them had disappeared overnight.
The next day came, and the children of Blackberry Village did not return to their homes, and all agreed that it was the evil influence of the tree that had done it—that cold, malicious, malevolent, disgraceful thing that was entrenched in evil. That unclean thing. It had taken the children. And now Mrs. Hutchison had a new topic for the bi-monthly meeting.
Night fell. The search party had given up for the day. Everyone filed into the village hall where the meeting would take place. Mayor Braddock called for everyone’s attention.
“The fifth village meeting on the calendar will now commence.”
But before he could speak further, he was interrupted by Mrs. Hutchinson of the Hutchinson estate. “We don’t have time for the pleasantries, Bradley! We want our children back!” Everyone erupted in riotous agreement.
Mayor Braddock tried to calm them.
“Please! Let me finish! I was going to say that this is a special meeting in light of recent events. Yes, we all want the children back. But how do we go about doing that?” There was silence for a short while.
Mrs. Hutchinson saw this as her chance to speak her mind.
“If we don’t confront that tree, we’ll never see our children again!”
“Come now,” he said, “it may turn out to be something completely different. We don’t have to be rash. Let us reconsider our course of action, for who knows what may happen to those that oppose Evil’s Fingers. Standing in opposition to Evil’s Fingers is not standing at all. It is foolishness.”
“The path may be blind,” said Theodore Hutchinson, “but we could at least try. We may be sacrificing our lives but in an effort to save the lives of our children I think that it is a noble crusade.”
“Come then! Let us go find axes and uproot Evil’s Fingers!”
Everyone stood up and headed for the exit, ignoring Mayor Braddock’s plea for order. It didn’t take long for the villagers to rally in the square. A good many had axes, the others would simply go to watch the destruction of Evil’s Fingers. Their cries were deafening as they made their way through Blackberry Forest. Darkness had—as it has already been told—descended. That characteristic green mist that hung around Evil’s Fingers now surrounded the entire forest.
When they got to the spot, the tree looked just as menacing as ever. It was a towering, foreboding thing. The cries had ceased. Everyone was attempting to take in just what it was they were attempting to do.
Finally, someone struck the thing with his axe. But imagine his bewilderment when he discovered that his axe did not produce the desired effect. It was true. He had struck the thing, but no hurt was done. Mr. Hutchison then made the attempt but with the same lack of result. Then Mrs. Hutchinson noticed something. There was someone standing to the side of the mob, observing.
“Paul?” she said. “Is that you?”
“You can’t destroy it,” said Paul. “It’s as much a member of your community as you are yourselves.” Everyone looked at him.
Mayor Bradley said, “I told you that it was useless to oppose Evil’s Fingers. Now the thing will have its revenge. It’ll gobble us all up and send us to Limbo!” Mayor Braddock was eccentric and had to be told to shut up.
“Paul?” began Mrs. Hutchinson who was now wondering what it was that he was doing here. “Where’s Timmy?” she continued.
“I’m here, mom!” Timmy and the other children were standing along to the side of the mob. All those who had missing children began to celebrate as they reunited with their loved ones. The green mist then began to evaporate and the tree began to change all at once. It took on the color of whiteness and those hideous formations that reached high into the sky began now to become what many perceived as harmonious. Paul then began speaking to the mob.
“Evil’s Fingers is more than what any of you know. It is a gateway to a fantastical world. The reason there have been so many disappearances is because people have discovered how to go through that gateway and have elected simply not to return. Such is the splendor that awaits on the other side of Heaven’s Tree.”
The villagers then began to see all manner of fantastical things in the sky (things that they considered fables), such as dwarves, and elves, and pixies, and trolls, and even dragons. They then began to see majestic kingdoms, castles and white towers that reached high into the sky and landscapes brimming with greenery. The villagers were awestruck and unmoving.
Paul said, “If you are still unbelieving then come for yourself. See what waits on the other side.” He moved toward the tree and the closer he got, the less visible he became. Everyone gasped.
Mr. and Mrs. Hutchinson, led by their son, began heading toward the tree.
And that was the end of that despised thing we call Evil’s Fingers, and the beginning of the majestic wonder that Blackberry Village and its neighbors call Heaven’s Tree. |
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