The Weeping Willow

Harrison liked bringing girls to the tree.

Not because the tree was beautiful.

Though it was.

Not because the tree was old.

Though it was older than anything else in the forest.

Harrison liked bringing girls there because it worked.

At least, that was what he told himself.

The Weeping Willow stood alone in a clearing surrounded by blue-barked trees on one side and a field of golden flowers on the other. Its long branches hung nearly to the ground, swaying gently even when there was no wind. Tiny silver blossoms dotted its canopy like stars trapped among the leaves.

Most people never found it.

Those who did sometimes called it the Love Tree.

They rarely forgot it.

Harrison certainly hadn't.

He had brought six girls there over the years.

Maybe seven.

The number changed depending on how seriously he had taken the relationship.

He remembered every one of them.

He remembered where they sat.

What they wore.

The things they said.

The promises they made.

And eventually broke.

The tree had been beautiful every single time.

But this afternoon it seemed different.

Brighter.

Fuller.

More alive.

The blossoms appeared thicker than usual.

The leaves seemed greener.

The branches hung heavier beneath their weight.

If Harrison didn't know any better, he'd swear the tree was acting like a housewife preparing for the Pope.

He smiled.

"Do you see it?" he said.

Elle looked up from beneath the canopy.

"See what?"

"The flowers."

"They're pretty."

"They weren't like this before."

Elle laughed softly.

"How would you know?"

"I've brought people here."

The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Elle raised an eyebrow.

"People? You mean other women?"

Harrison immediately regretted it.

"Not like that."

She smiled.

"Uh huh."

Harrison laughed nervously.

The moment passed.

At least he thought it had.

Elle stepped closer to the tree.

One of the lower branches shifted slightly.

Just enough to brush the sleeve of her jacket.

Elle paused.

Then gently touched the leaves. Her eyes scanned the treetop.

The branch lingered.

Harrison frowned.

That was strange.

The wind wasn't blowing.

A blossom drifted downward.

Landing in Elle's hair.

She smiled.

For a moment the tree seemed to brighten.

The blossoms overhead appeared almost luminous beneath the evening sky.

Harrison stared.

He had never seen that happen before.

Not with anyone.

The thought bothered him more than it should have.

"You're staring," Elle said.

"What?"

"You're staring."

"I wasn't."

"You were."

She smiled again.

The same smile that always made him feel like she knew something he didn't.

That was one of the things he loved about her.

Or thought he loved.

Sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference.

A voice interrupted them.

"She's lovely."

Harrison jumped.

Neither of them had heard anyone approach.

A man sat upon a weathered stump beneath the willow's hanging branches.

The stump looked ancient.

As though it had been there longer than the surrounding forest.

The stranger wore dark clothing.

Nothing remarkable.

Nothing threatening.

Yet something about him immediately demanded attention.

His smile was warm.

His eyes were not.

Harrison frowned.

"How long have you been sitting there?"

The man considered the question.

"A while."

"A while?"

"A very long while."

Elle laughed.

The stranger smiled.

"You see?" he said.

"See what?" Harrison asked.

"She understands jokes. Probably why she dates you."

Harrison wasn't sure how to respond to that.

The stranger rose slowly from the stump.

The willow branches shifted overhead.

Almost as if acknowledging him.

"You noticed it, didn't you?" the man asked.

Harrison hesitated.

"Noticed what?"

"The blossoms."

Harrison glanced upward.

The stranger followed his gaze.

"She's blooming today."

"You talk about the tree like it's alive."

The stranger looked genuinely surprised.

“Of course it’s alive. All trees are alive.”

He paused.

“Except for the dead ones.”

A blossom drifted between them.

The stranger caught it.

Examined it.

Then handed it to Elle.

The branch above her lowered slightly.

Not much.

Just enough to be noticed.

The stranger smiled.

"She likes you."

For the first time all afternoon, Harrison felt uneasy.

He didn’t like the way the stranger looked at Elle.

It wasn't desire.

That would have been easier to understand.

The man looked at her the same way someone might admire a painting hanging in a museum.

Not something to possess.

Simply something worth appreciating.

For reasons Harrison couldn't explain, that irritated him.

The stranger seemed unconcerned.

He brushed a hand across the weathered stump.

The Willow's branches swayed overhead.

A few silver blossoms drifted downward.

One landed beside the stump.

Another landed on the stranger's shoulder.

He didn't remove it.

"Do you know what this place is?" he asked.

"A tree," Harrison said.

Elle sighed.

The stranger smiled.

"A fair answer."

"It's a willow tree."

"It is."

"An old willow tree."

"It is also that."

Harrison folded his arms.

The stranger looked amused.

"It wasn't always alone."

Something changed in the Willow above them.

The branches rustled softly.

Almost nervously.

The stranger rested a hand on the stump.

"This was once a pair."

Harrison looked down.

At the stump.

Then back toward the enormous tree.

The realization struck him immediately.

"Another willow?"

The stranger nodded.

"Once."

The word carried a sadness Harrison hadn't expected.

The Willow's branches drooped slightly lower.

A tear fell from somewhere high above.

Elle watched it strike the ground.

"What happened to it?" she asked.

The stranger looked at her.

Then at the stump.

Then upward through the canopy.

For a moment he seemed to be listening to something.

"How?" he finally asked.

Elle frowned.

"What?"

"How do you think it happened?"

She considered the question.

"A storm?"

The stranger smiled.

"No."

"Disease?"

"No."

Harrison shrugged.

"Lightning?"

"No."

The stranger's smile faded.

"Let's say mankind."

The words settled heavily in the clearing.

"Mankind?" Elle asked.

"In its endless pursuit of forbidden fruit."

The Willow shivered.

The branches whispered together overhead.

A sound remarkably similar to mourning.

The stranger noticed.

His expression softened.

"There were once two trees."

He spoke quietly.

As though telling a bedtime story.

Or delivering a eulogy.

"One offered knowledge."

Harrison rolled his eyes slightly.

The stranger ignored him.

"The other offered immortality."

A blossom drifted downward.

The stranger watched it fall.

"Ancient things. Older than kingdoms. Older than empires. Older than most stories."

The clearing seemed strangely quiet.

Even the insects had stopped making noise.

"The first tree was coveted."

"Why?" Harrison asked.

The stranger smiled.

"Because knowledge is power."

That answer seemed obvious.

“It always is,” the stranger said.

Another tear fell from the Willow.

Then another.

And another.

"They came looking for answers."

The stranger's gaze drifted toward the surrounding forest.

"Kings."

A branch swayed.

"Scholars."

Another branch.

"Priests."

The Willow rustled.

"Collectors."

Something in his voice changed when he said that word.

Collectors.

The title carried weight.

History.

Resentment.

Harrison didn't understand why.

But Elle seemed to notice.

"What kind of collectors?"

The stranger laughed softly.

"The worst kind."

The Willow trembled.

The stranger's hand remained resting on the ancient stump.

"One nasty Collector came believing everything could be owned."

A pause.

"He collected paintings."

A blossom fell.

"He collected relics."

Another blossom.

"He collected secrets."

The branches stirred.

"He collected wonders."

The stranger looked at Elle.

"Eventually he decided to collect knowledge itself."

The Willow sagged.

As though exhausted by the memory.

Harrison shifted uncomfortably.

The story suddenly felt less like a fairy tale.

More like something that had happened.

The stranger seemed to sense that.

His smile returned.

Not kindly.

Not cruelly.

Simply knowingly.

"The Collector found the Tree of Knowledge."

The clearing grew still.

"And he took it."

Harrison blinked.

"Took it?"

The stranger nodded.

"Branches. Fruit. Bark. Leaves. Every piece. Save for this stump."

The Willow's branches shook violently.

Silver blossoms rained from the canopy.

Elle looked upward.

The movement felt emotional.

Not natural.

The stranger watched the reaction.

The sadness in his eyes surprised her.

"He believed knowledge could be possessed."

The stranger looked at the stump.

"Perhaps he was right."

A long silence followed.

The Willow's tears continued falling.

Soft.

Steady.

Endless.

"What happened next?" Elle asked.

The stranger smiled.

A very small smile.

"The same thing that always happens."

"What?"

The stranger's gaze shifted toward the living tree.

“Knowledge revealed the existence of another.”

The Willow immediately stiffened.

The branches drew inward.

Protective.

Fearful.

The stranger gently patted the ancient stump.

"Her."

For the first time Harrison noticed something.

The stranger kept referring to the tree as if it were a person.

Not an object.

Not a plant.

A person.

The realization made him uneasy.

The stranger looked up into the canopy.

And for just a moment...

The Willow seemed to look back.

"The Collector desired immortality. All that knowledge and only one lifetime to enjoy it."

The words came softly.

Almost tenderly.

"As men always do."

A cold breeze passed through the clearing.

The Willow's tears fell faster.

"He came here seeking ownership."

The stranger chuckled.

A sound that somehow made Harrison less comfortable.

"That was his mistake."

The stranger looked at Elle.

Then Harrison.

Then the Willow.

"Knowledge may be possessed."

His hand rested against the bark.

"Immortality cannot."

The clearing fell silent.

The stranger smiled.

And the smile that appeared on his face was the first truly frightening thing Harrison had seen all evening.

"Would you like to hear what happened next?"

The Willow shuddered.

As though it already knew the answer.

"Yes," Elle said.

The answer came immediately.

The stranger smiled.

Of course it had.

Stories demanded endings.

Even the sad ones.

Especially the sad ones.

Harrison shrugged.

"Sure."

The stranger nodded once.

Then looked up through the hanging branches.

The Willow trembled.

Not violently.

Not with fear.

With dread.

As though it knew exactly where the story was headed.

As though it wished it could forget.

“He arrived much like everyone else.”

The stranger’s voice became distant. Not because he was remembering. Because the tree was.

“The Collector stood where you’re standing now and asked how immortality worked.”

A branch lowered, its leaves brushing the grass.

“He wanted measurements. Records. Samples. Fruit.”

The Willow shuddered.

“He couldn’t understand that immortality isn’t an object. One is either immortal...”

The stranger crossed to the Willow and rested a hand against its bark.

“...or one is not.”

The Willow seemed to lean into his touch. Like a wounded animal accepting comfort.

The sight made Elle strangely sad.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

The stranger looked at her.

Then smiled.

"I invited him to play a game."

Harrison frowned.

"A game?"

"Questions."

The stranger nodded.

"Just questions."

The Willow rustled uneasily.

The sound reminded Elle of someone holding back tears.

“The Collector loved questions. He thought every answer belonged to him.”

The branches drooped lower.

“I told him there was only one way to possess immortality. He would need to become one with it.”

The Willow shivered.

“He agreed.”

The words hung in the air.

Simple.

Terrible.

"He what?" Harrison asked.

The stranger nodded.

"Immediately."

The Willow's branches stirred overhead.

The movement felt restless.

Uneasy.

Ashamed.

The stranger looked up.

"You didn't want to."

The words were spoken to the tree.

Not to them.

A branch lowered.

Just slightly.

As if answering.

"No," the stranger agreed softly.

"You didn't."

The clearing fell silent.

Even Harrison stopped fidgeting.

Something about the exchange felt intimate.

Like listening to two old friends discuss a shared tragedy.

"What happened then?" Elle asked.

The stranger's eyes moved toward the ancient stump.

Toward the missing tree.

Toward a wound centuries old.

"The game began."

The Willow's branches shifted.

Slowly.

Almost reluctantly.

"The Collector sat beneath the canopy."

The tears continued falling.

"I asked him questions."

The bark creaked.

"He answered."

A branch lowered.

"And with every answer..."

Another branch.

"The Willow learned what sort of man he was."

The branches swayed uneasily.

Like hands remembering something terrible.

The stranger's smile disappeared entirely.

"The Collector did not notice."

A long branch descended from above.

Stopping several feet from the ground.

"He was too busy answering."

Another branch followed.

Then another.

Then another.

Elle found herself staring.

The branches were moving now.

Not toward them.

Simply moving.

As if the story itself had awakened the tree.

The stranger noticed her concern.

"It's alright."

The Willow immediately stilled.

Obedient wasn't the right word.

Comforted was.

The realization unsettled her.

"The Collector answered every question."

The stranger looked upward.

"Greedily."

A branch brushed the trunk.

"He spoke of what he owned."

The bark creaked.

"What he had taken."

The branches shifted.

"What he planned to take next."

The tears fell harder.

The stranger's expression darkened.

"And eventually..."

A pause.

"He revealed himself."

The Willow groaned.

The sound came from deep within the trunk.

A sound of sorrow.

Not anger.

Sorrow.

The stranger closed his eyes briefly.

"When the truth was finally known..."

The branches began descending again.

Slowly.

Painfully slowly.

Like a memory the tree wished it could stop reliving.

"The Willow became hungry."

Harrison swallowed.

The stranger opened his eyes.

"No."

He shook his head.

"Hungry isn't the right word."

The Willow shuddered.

The tears nearly became rain.

"It became desperate."

A branch wrapped around empty air.

Demonstrating.

Remembering.

"It had spent centuries starving."

Another branch coiled.

"Centuries alone."

Another.

"Centuries grieving."

The stranger rested his palm against the bark.

"And then..."

The Willow trembled.

"It discovered something could fill the emptiness."

The clearing became silent.

The branches froze.

The tears continued.

Always the tears.

"What happened to him?" Elle whispered.

The stranger looked at her.

The sadness in his eyes felt genuine.

"He was embraced."

The answer surprised her.

The stranger glanced upward.

The branches responded.

Several lowering around him.

Gentle.

Careful.

Like hands.

"The Willow wrapped itself around him."

The branches tightened slightly.

"He struggled."

Another branch.

"He screamed."

Another.

"He begged."

The trunk groaned.

"But the Willow held him."

The branches slowly lowered.

Toward the bark.

Toward the trunk.

Toward the heart of the tree.

The bark creaked.

Then split.

Not violently.

Not monstrously.

Simply opening.

Making room.

Elle felt a chill crawl down her spine.

The stranger's voice dropped almost to a whisper.

"The Collector wished to become one with immortality."

The opening widened.

The darkness inside seemed endless.

"So he did."

The branches lowered.

The bark closed.

The Willow's tears fell.

And fell.

And fell.

The clearing remained silent for a long time.

Finally Harrison laughed nervously.

"That's pretty dark."

The stranger smiled.

A small smile.

A knowing smile.

"Oh, that's not the dark part."

The Willow shivered.

And for the first time that evening...

It seemed hungry.

The stranger smiled.

Harrison didn't.

Something about the way he had said it bothered him.

The stranger returned to the ancient stump and sat down.

As though nothing unusual had happened.

As though he hadn't just described a man being absorbed into a tree.

He folded his hands.

"Would either of you care to play?"

Harrison laughed.

"A game?"

"Just questions."

The stranger's smile returned.

"People enjoy questions."

The Willow shuddered.

A blossom drifted to the ground.

Elle looked uneasy.

Harrison noticed.

"It's fine."

She wasn't convinced.

Neither was he.

But backing down felt childish.

The stranger didn't seem dangerous.

Strange.

Certainly.

Dangerous?

No.

"Fine," Harrison said.

The stranger nodded.

"Excellent."

The Willow groaned softly overhead.

The sound carried sadness.

Not warning.

Not quite.

Something else.

Something older.

The stranger leaned forward slightly.

"Do you love Elle?"

Harrison smiled immediately.

"Of course."

The stranger nodded.

The Willow remained still.

"What do you love about her?"

Harrison laughed.

"She's beautiful."

The stranger waited.

Harrison continued.

"Smart."

Silence.

"Funny."

More silence.

The stranger smiled.

"Anything else?"

Harrison frowned.

"What do you mean?"

The stranger tilted his head.

"What makes her Elle?"

The question lingered.

Harrison opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

The Willow stirred.

Just slightly.

The stranger noticed.

Elle noticed too.

For the first time all evening, Harrison felt uncomfortable.

The stranger smiled.

"Perhaps another question."

Harrison nodded.

Relieved.

"Have you ever hurt someone you loved?"

The answer came quickly.

"No."

The Willow immediately trembled.

A tear struck the ground.

Then another.

The stranger said nothing.

He simply waited.

Harrison shifted.

"What?"

The stranger smiled politely.

"Nothing."

The Willow's branches lowered slightly.

Harrison looked upward.

The movement unsettled him.

The stranger asked another question.

"Have you ever wished someone dead?"

Harrison laughed.

"Everybody has."

The stranger nodded.

"A fair answer."

The Willow moved again.

The branches seemed closer now.

Harrison wasn't sure if he was imagining it.

The stranger's smile never changed.

"Have you ever helped them along?"

The laughter stopped.

The clearing became silent.

The Willow's tears fell harder.

Harrison stared.

The stranger stared back.

Patient.

Waiting.

"That's a weird question."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

The stranger nodded thoughtfully.

Then looked toward the Willow.

"You see?"

The branches shivered.

The stranger smiled sadly.

"I thought so too."

Harrison stood.

"I think we're done."

The Willow groaned.

A low sound.

Like disappointment.

The stranger remained seated.

The branches whispered above the stranger. He tilted his head, listening.

Then he said, “Your mother was expensive.”

The world stopped.

Harrison froze.

Elle looked at him.

The stranger's expression remained calm.

Almost sympathetic.

"Medical care often is."

The Willow trembled violently.

Tears rained from the branches.

Harrison's face drained of color.

"What did you say?"

The stranger tilted his head.

"You wished she would stop suffering."

Silence.

"You wished the bills would stop."

The branches lowered.

Slowly.

"Eventually you realized both problems shared the same solution."

Harrison stepped backward.

"No."

The stranger smiled.

"No?"

The Willow groaned.

The sound felt wounded.

Heartbroken.

The stranger continued gently.

"As I understand it, you adjusted a dosage."

Harrison's breathing quickened.

Elle stared at him.

Confusion.

Fear.

Disbelief.

The stranger's voice remained soft.

"So much pain."

A branch lowered.

"You told yourself it was mercy."

Another branch.

"You told yourself she would have wanted it."

Another.

"You told yourself many things."

The Willow's tears became a downpour.

Harrison stumbled backward.

"Stop."

The stranger nodded.

"As you wish."

The branches paused.

For a moment hope flickered across Harrison's face.

Then the stranger asked:

"Would you like to discuss the other one?"

The hope vanished.

The Willow shuddered.

The blossoms began falling in sheets.

"What other one?" Elle whispered.

Harrison couldn't answer.

The stranger did it for him.

"The young man."

The tears continued.

"The one who wasn't what Harrison expected."

A branch wrapped around another branch.

Twisting.

Coiling.

Remembering.

Harrison backed away again.

The stranger's voice remained calm.

Almost kind.

"You became angry."

The Willow groaned.

"You became frightened."

The branches lowered.

"You became violent."

The bark creaked.

"And then..."

The stranger sighed.

"You became a murderer."

Elle stepped away from Harrison.

The movement was small.

Only one step.

But Harrison noticed.

The Willow noticed too.

The branches descended another foot.

The stranger watched quietly.

"She didn't know."

The statement wasn't a question.

Elle shook her head.

"No."

The stranger nodded.

"I didn't think so."

The Willow wept.

And wept.

And wept.

Not because it was hungry.

Because it knew.

Because it always knew.

Because now Elle knew too.

And somehow that made the tragedy worse.

Harrison looked around wildly.

Searching for an escape.

The clearing seemed smaller.

The branches lower.

The shadows deeper.

"You can't prove anything."

The stranger smiled.

"No."

The Willow groaned.

"I suppose not."

A branch touched Harrison's shoulder.

He screamed.

Not from pain.

From realization.

The game had never been questions.

The game had been answers.

The first branch wrapped around Harrison's wrist.

Gently.

Almost lovingly.

Harrison tore free.

The second caught his ankle.

The third his waist.

The fourth his arm.

The Willow cried harder.

The tears poured from every branch.

Every leaf.

Every blossom.

Harrison fought.

Kicked.

Screamed.

Begged.

The Willow continued to weep.

The stranger remained seated.

Watching.

Not smiling.

Not celebrating.

Simply observing.

As though witnessing something inevitable.

"Help me!" Harrison shouted.

His eyes locked on Elle.

"Elle!"

She didn't move.

The branches wrapped around his chest.

His legs.

His shoulders.

More and more.

Until he looked less like a man and more like something being returned to the earth.

The Willow groaned.

A terrible sound.

A grieving sound.

The sound of something forced to become what it never wanted to be.

The stranger closed his eyes.

"You always make me watch."

The branches tightened.

Not cruelly.

Sadly.

Harrison's screams became muffled.

Then distant.

Then barely audible.

The bark of the Willow split open.

A narrow opening appeared.

Not a mouth.

Not a wound.

Simply space.

Waiting.

The branches lowered him.

Slowly.

Tenderly.

Like pallbearers carrying a coffin.

The Willow's tears soaked the ground.

The stranger watched.

The tree wept.

Harrison vanished into the darkness.

The bark closed.

The clearing became silent.

Only the tears remained.

Falling endlessly from the branches overhead.

The stranger rested a hand against the trunk.

"I'm sorry."

The Willow shivered.

As though accepting the apology.

Or perhaps offering one.

Elle stood alone beneath the canopy.

The tears continued to fall.

The stranger rose from the stump.

Neither spoke for a long time.

Finally she asked:

"Was any of that true?"

The stranger smiled sadly.

"All of it."

The Willow groaned softly.

She looked toward the place Harrison had disappeared.

Then down at the keys still clutched in her hand.

At some point she had taken them.

She wasn't entirely sure when.

Maybe before.

Maybe after.

It didn't matter.

She simply knew she wasn't giving them back.

The stranger noticed.

Of course he did.

His eyes lingered on the keys for a moment.

Then on her.

Then on the tree.

A smile touched his lips.

Small.

Thoughtful.

Like a farmer smelling rain on the wind.

"Interesting."

Elle frowned.

"What?"

The stranger merely shrugged.

"Nothing."

The Willow stirred overhead.

Its branches swaying softly.

Watching her.

She turned toward the path.

Toward home.

Toward tomorrow.

Toward whatever came next.

The stranger did not stop her.

Neither did the tree.

She stepped beyond the stump.

Beyond the tears.

Beyond the shadow of the canopy.

Then something touched her cheek.

Elle stopped.

A single branch had lowered behind her.

Not enough to hold.

Not enough to claim.

Just enough to brush softly against her skin.

The touch lingered for only a moment.

Then the branch withdrew.

Elle looked back.

The Willow stood silently in the clearing.

Ancient.

Lonely.

Grieving.

Its tears continued to fall.

Yet somehow it looked less hungry now.

And far more sad.

She raised a hand to the place the branch had touched.

Then quietly walked away.

The stranger watched her go.

The Willow watched her too.

Until she disappeared down the trail that wound across the uneven ground

And for just a moment—

Just one brief moment—

the ancient tree seemed to remember what it had once been.

The Willow was still a Love Tree.

It simply no longer remembered how to survive as one.