"I still think he made it up,” the boy said, admiring the enormous, stately tree, “I don’t care if Canada is another country, Daeja, the trees there probably don’t look like this.”
“I swear, that’s what he told me, Ty,” the girl cheerfully answered from behind, brushing past the last few bushes concealing the creek. “Dad said he brought it here from his homeland. That the tree was meant to be a gift for my mom. He didn’t say he got it from Canada, but I’m thinking that’s where they both met.”
“Maybe when we’re older,” the raccoon kit countered, a lighthearted grin greeting the lynx at the water’s edge, “we can go to Quebec and find out for ourselves.”
“Sounds like fun,” she concurred, reacting to the boy’s warm smile with a genial—albeit more reserved—grin of her own. “It’ll be nice to go on more adventures when we’re old enough to drive.”
“It won’t be long before we’re all in high school. At least, that’s what my dad said, but he doesn’t really get it. He acts like all that time will just fly by.”
“Remember what Jakub said?” Daeja asked, inducing memories of their mutual friend, the badger, and what he said jokingly about “crossing the finish line first” as it were, “’Silver and bronze ain’t half-bad. Don’t worry, kids, you’ll get there. In time.’”
The lynx and raccoon erupted with raucous fits of laughter.
“That’s such crap! If we play by those rules,” the boy blithely hollered, “then Jakub always wins.”
“Yeah,” the girl considered, “he can’t help being a month older. It’s not like a race.”
“Right? It’s not like some Pop Warner trophy you can earn.”
“Now could you imagine if Naomi was the oldest? She’d never let you forget.”
Snickering, the boy’s mind fixed on the wolverine, “You’d never hear the end of it.”
Tyson and Daeja had spent most their young lives exploring the forest interior, but all those summer days filled with free time could never reveal a more special place than this oasis. Even though, at eight years-old, there was still many more carefree summer days for them to experience inside this hidden domain, the forest would never offer them a better discovery.
This tree—wherever it came from—didn’t truly belong here in Iowa, but that fact was of little consequence for either of them. It provided both children with much valued love and protection. That was what mattered most. It would sound silly to suggest as much to anyone unfamiliar with the tree—this peculiar oak and willow hybrid—but Tyson could feel its warmth underneath his left palm.
The energy radiating from its colossal black trunk and indigo branches was inexplicably comforting. It was akin to having one’s body enclosed inside a sheltering aura. Truthfully speaking, this entire area seemed to teem with an ethereal energy that made one feel secure. The air one breathed was always perfumed with the sweet scent of lilac and lavender and the cool breeze carried in its current the euphonious symphony of birdsong.
“I love coming here,” the raccoon kit remarked, almost whispering as he observed the tree’s luminous veins rising toward the top in bright blue rivulets. “This place always makes me feel safe.”
“That’s probably why they planted it here, Ty,” said the lynx, laying her left hand just next to Tyson’s. “It made them feel safe to sit under it. I’m sure it reminded my dad of home.”
“Yeah, that weird part of Canada with all the shiny, alien trees.”
And as the two shared more laughs, an astounding incident reoccurred. It was an affair that elicited more much in the way of awe than apprehension.
“Look! They’re doing it again,” she gasped, studying the jewel’s intriguing glow.
The necklace Tyson had given her about two weeks ago for her birthday had not acted so abnormally until she’d given the boy his own birthday gift just hours prior. Since then, every so often, both Daeja’s necklace and Tyson’s bracelet would burst forth with a strong yet soothing display of white light. It would ebb and flow periodically, but the actual triggering event was still unknown and out of reach. But for some reason, the white light always gave way and shifted color to that of a bright blue reminiscent of the same hue as the water which fed into the tree.
Tyson clutched his left wrist, examined the engrained metallic insert of his bracelet and asked, “What do you think it means?”
“The woman said they were made for each other, right? Maybe they react this way when we get them to work together,” Daeja posed.
Blushing as they both took their seats on an adjacent log, the boy discreetly peeled back the bracelet to reveal a single note neatly marked on the leather surface in silver Sharpie:
You will always be my squid. – DJ
“Thank you, Daeja. I really love this bracelet,” the raccoon kit sheepishly confessed. “And now that we both have one just like the other,” he paused, ”we’ll never really be apart.”
It was then that the young lynx gave her friend the greatest smile she’d ever given him. Daeja was not one to smile too fully, but when she gave it everything her introversion would allow, it positively stirred the soul to action. It made the boy’s heart flutter with excitement to even look upon it. For Tyson, watching her smile now was like glimpsing into the heart of the Sun.
“Happy Birthday, dumbbutt.”
“Thanks for the cool gift, you scalawag,” the boy lobbed back, flashing his eyebrows.
“If anyone here’s a scalawag, it’s you, Ty,” she shot back.
“Fine. We can both be scalawags. Happy now?”
“Yes,” said the lynx, gazing into the boy’s mirthful eyes with earnest affection as the smoldering white light turned blue, “you could say that.”
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