The Tree
Demons and Trees
"Beloved, gaze in thine own heart
The holy tree is growing there;
From joy the holy branches start
And all the trembling flowers they bear.
The changing colours of its fruit
Have dowered the stars with merry light;
The surety of its hidden root
Has planted quiet in the night;
The shaking of its leafy head
Has given the waves their melody.
And made my lips and music wed,
Murmuring a wizard song for thee,
There the Loves a circle go,
The flaming circle of our days,
Gyring, spiring to and fro
In those great ignorant leafy ways;
Remembering all that shaken hair
And how the winged sandals dart
Thine eyes grow full of tender care;
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.
Gaze no more in the bitter glass
The demons, with their subtle guile,
Lift up before us when they pass,
Or only gaze a little while;
For there a fatal image grows
That the stormy night receives,
Roots half hidden under snows,
Broken boughs and blackened leaves.
For all things turn to bareness
In the dim glass the demons hold,
The glass of outer weariness,
Made when God slept in times of old.
There, through the broken branches, go
The ravens of unresting thought;
Flying, crying, to and fro,
Cruel claw and hungry throat,
Or else they stand and sniff the wind,
And shake their ragged wings: alas!
Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:
Gaze no more in the bitter glass."
--from "The Two Trees" words by William Butler Yeats
She looked around the empty room. There were no signs that he had ever been there. She thought for a moment that it had all been a dream, or, even worse, a cruel trick of her own mind. Or maybe she had died, and this was a game death was playing with her.
She shook off all these thoughts. She had something to take care of. She had to focus.
But she still felt as though her mind might wander. She had to imagine she was in the danger room, or fighting one of her enemies.
Good. That's good. Start with somethin' you've done before, somethin' you know you can handle, something that's nearly second-nature, she told herself.
You've gotta look inside yourself, she remembered him saying. She laid down on her back again and stared at the ceiling. It was such an uninteresting thing to look at, and with nothing to distract her eyes, she just figured it would make it easier for her to look inside.
It is inside of me. Whatever it is that's holdin' me back. Ah know that now. Got to fight with whatever it is that's holdin' me back. No. Not fight it. Reason with it. Or try to, anyway.
She thought she could feel him confirming her thoughts, pleased that she was taking the first steps.
So, he can see mah thoughts, too, then? Ah well, it maybe it's a good – no, gal! Focus. All right, sugah. Now what?
**You notice anyt'ing unusual, chere?**
No. Wait. Yes...Ah haven't run across any of your memories. Ah usually do, and if Ah absorbed enough of ya to be *seein'* an' *feelin'* ya, Ah must've gotten a few.
She almost scolded herself again for not concentrating, but she seemed to get the feeling that this was the correct course of action.
She hesitated a moment before starting to search. They would be right on top, she knew that, fresh in mind as they were, and not difficult to find at all, and that wasn't what was stopping her. She had had very bad experiences with his memories in the past, and she wasn't sure she wanted to go through that again. The more she resisted though, the more he seemed to pull, and the more she seemed to hear something inside here – and she was no longer sure if it came from herself, or from him, or both of them – to trust him.
Well, he did warn me that it might hurt. Besides, even if it does, you can't have pleasure with the pain, right?
She was expecting the worst. She still remembered glimpses of memories she had obtained in the past. Indeed, she had all but gone crazy the last couple of times she had absorbed his memories, and was convinced that the bulk of the nightmares that sometimes plagued her were his memories surfacing from her subconscious. She didn't see why this time around would be any different.
She hit the feelings first. They shrouded the memories themselves, and were always the easiest to find, no matter whom she was dealing with. Much to her surprise, though, she didn't get lost in a sea of guilt, anguish and self-loathing as she had in the past.
She dug deeper, to the specifics. She paused to remind herself that whatever she saw, that even if the memories were hers now, they didn't really belong to her. This wasn't her life she was looking at, so don't get lost in it.
And with that, she let the memories pass over her consciousness.
There were no Mauraders.
There were no terrifying villains.
There were no run-down theatres.
There were no assassins.
There were no other women.
The memories she had absorbed.
Or had he given them to her?
They were all of her.
Every last one of them.
Silk dresses.
Late-night visits.
Thimbles.
Shattered glasses.
A broken necklace.
Motorcycle rides.
Chocolate candies.
Intimate conversations.
Secret places.
Last cigarettes.
A dark cave.
Dazzling, sea green eyes.
There was a bit of sadness surrounding it all, especially at those moments where they were the closest.
Those moments where he yearned to touch her the most.
And in his desperate yearning, she realized her had touched her
He had made love to her, so many times, she realized, with a mere glance.
That look of love that she had come to recognize, that had become so familiar to her.
He had touched her.
Not physically.
Deeper.
He had truly touched her soul.
And she had touched his.
He loved her, he really loved her, and even the sins of his past didn't seem quite so bad because of it.
They faded in comparison to what he felt for her.
They paled in comparison to what they had.
The things he had done in his past still weren't right.
They never would be, no matter how hard he might wish it otherwise.
But he could live with himself.
Because he had found someone to be with.
Someone to love him, despite what she knew of his past, and those events could finally become just that.
The past.
And the pain and guilt and anguish and self-hatred that had haunted him for so long no longer overwhelmed him.
The change in him was amazing. Never before had she imagined the depth with which someone could change. And it was all because of her. Never before had she imagined how anyone could have such an affect on another person. How she could have such a profound affect on his soul. She had never thought so highly of herself to be able to say she could change a man's soul. She knew he had changed, but she never imagined the change had gone so deep – never imagined that she could save anyone from themselves as she had saved him. But she had, without even realizing it.
That was it. That was the hidden strength he had spoken of. If she could change him so profoundly, she could certainly help herself. She owed it to him – to herself – to do whatever it took to do it. Now, to find it herself.
As Hank might say: "Aye, there's the rub!" All right, sugah. Ah know what Ah'm lookin' for. Now take me past all those people.
She felt him surround her, like a great, big, warm blanket, and they floated past the seemingly endless bunch of people and mutants. She could see them, but they acted as though she wasn't even there, just as he'd told her they would. Their voices, which usually seemed to pound on her ears whenever she ventured this far into her mind, were muffled by the blanket he had provided her with, she imagined. Soon, they were past all the ghosts in her head, their voices their memories, their images fading out behind them.
They reached a desolate landscape. The whole setting was murky, discolored with an unreal, nightmarish feel about it. Nothing seemed solid and she felt as if she was wading through a marshland. The sky was covered in clouds so thick and dark, she couldn't tell if it was day or night. Everything seemed so barren, so lifeless, so glum, so melancholy. A fog seeped everywhere around her, creating an eerie chill and keeping her form seeing too far ahead of her. She was deep in her psyche now, and it bothered her how bleak and uninviting it was. She had seen the inside of a lot of lonely, twisted, confused minds before, but it never really occurred to her that her own mind could be so muddled. She knew she had some things she needed to work out; she acknowledged that she wasn't the most mentally stable person in the world. But she had always attributed it to all the people she shared her mind with. It never occurred to her how deep the problem really went. That their confusion could become her confusion and seep so far down.
It's your own fault, gal. Been ignorin' the problems too long, now.
She reached out for her companion, and while she could feel him there with her, a pillar of strength in a world where nothing seemed solid, she knew he could do nothing else for her anymore. It was all up to her now. But that was okay. He was there for her, and that's all she needed him for.
Before long, she could sense a presence of some…things, coming closer to her, and before long, they became visible through the mist. They were monsters. Horrid-looking things, with talons and sickly yellow eyes and fangs dripping with acidic saliva that seemed to have a chemical reaction with the ground when it hit. Some of them were on all four's, some on their hind legs, while still others had three, or even eight legs. Some had beaks, some had pig-like noses with tusks protruding out from their lips. Some had feathers, some had coarse-looking hair that she imagined were razor sharp at the end, while still others had scales or a shell-like casing, plate-like structures. One had what looked like porcupine needles along its shoulder blades and upper back and still another appeared to be a still-deteriorating mass of bones covered in rags. Their bodies were deformed, broken, twisted. One stood out form the others as a completely, ordinary-looking human – for even she knew that monsters come in all forms.
She had names for every last one of them. Anger. Doubt. Frustration. Destruction. Self-loathing. Confusion. Hatred. Envy. Panic. A pair of Siamese twins, Pain and Anguish. Despair. Agony. Lust. Misery. Hopelessness. Desolation. Loneliness. Desperation. Pride. Distress. Sorrow. Vanity. Regret. Guilt. Shame. There were dozens more, each one more appalling than the other. And of course the biggest and most hideous of them all. Fear. Materializing out of the fog, they seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. And they terrified her.
They took a moment to contemplate her, ominously sizing her up with their unnatural eyes before suddenly swooping down on her, grabbing at her.
A strange kind of battle ensued, and she fought off the creatures as best she could. She twisted and struggled to evade their violent grasps, putting a blow of her own in here and there, and yet, somehow, the more she thought she hurt them, the more power they seemed to have over her. It was as if they were feeding off her both her actions and her emotions.
She began to panic. If they were to destroy her here…
No. Don't panic.
The more she frightened she became, the more terrifying they seemed to become.
C'mon, gal, you've faced some pretty scary lookin' thing befo'.
The greater hold they seemed to have on her.
This should be a piece o' cake.
The more they seemed to cling to her.
Just remember your trainin'.
No. She was the one clinging to them.
Let go, gal. Just let go.
She couldn't talk to them. Reason with them. This was a world that knew no words. Only feelings ruled here.
No. Not if she didn't let them. She took a moment to collect herself, to muster a detached defiance to face them down. It was a strange experience. Whereas most enemies she was used to fighting would take advantage of the moment she seemed to take her mind away from the battle at hand, these demons faltered and began to lose their grip; their power. It was quite an encouraging sight, and was just what she needed to bolster her confidence. They couldn't hurt her if she didn't let them, and as she stared them down, they no longer appeared so imposing, so big, and so terrible. They seemed to morph right before her eyes, their coarse features softening, their misshapen bodies correcting themselves. After a while, and with no small amount of effort from her behalf, the demons no longer looked nearly so hideous, and she kept at it until every last one of them – including Fear – became down-right docile. Indeed, she could almost laugh at herself for having been so frightened of these beings not too long before, some of which had become rather cute little creatures.
With that, she let them be. She knew she could never completely rid herself of them, but she had broken their hold on her. They were no longer a threat to her.
She looked around to realize that the haze had thinned and she could see most of the land that lay out before her. It was still pretty gloomy, but it was more solid now, more real, not the surreal, washed-out terrain it had been when she first arrived. Her eyes became aware of something off in the distance, and Instinct directed her toward it, telling her that this was what she was looking for. This was her Strength.
It was a very small, very dead looking tree.
This is my Strength? she thought.
Or at least that's what she would have thought not too long ago. Indeed, not too long ago, she would have been very discouraged, and even a little annoyed at the sight of this "Strength," but things were different now, and so she took a closer look.
On one of the top branches, on the opposite side of tree, she spied a juicy looking fruit.
There was life in it yet. But how to tap into that. To make it grow. Well, this was her mind, after all, and if she could face down those monsters, she could do anything.
Aight. Those monsters were the bad. This is the good. So what's good about me?
She began to recall the conversation she had had earlier. You're passionate…you trust me…I can trust you…no one knows me the way you do…I can be open with you, honest to you…to myself when I'm near you…someone…who could help me…someone beautiful to share my soul with…she cares for me...she's willin' to listen to me…share her life with me...it makes me feel like a better person for it…
She began to recall the things she had absorbed earlier that night. Silk dresses…late-night visits…thimbles…shattered glasses…a broken necklace…motorcycle rides…chocolate candies…intimate conversations…secret places…last cigarettes…a dark cave…dazzling, sea green eyes…he had touched her…he had made love to her…with a mere glance…he had touched her…not physically…deeper…he had truly touched her soul…she had touched his…the sins of his past didn't seem quite so bad…they faded…they paled…what they had…he could live with himself…the pain and guilt and anguish and self-hatred that had haunted him for so long no longer overwhelmed him…because he had found someone to be with…someone to love him.
She could love. She could trust. She could touch another's soul. She could be loved. She could be trusted. She could let someone else touch her soul. She could be intimate without even touching. She could make someone else want to be a better person. She could make someone else's existence better simply because she cared.
As she recalled these things, realized these things, the life began to spread throughout the tree and the once dried-up, shriveled little shrub had become a great tree right before her inner eye. Leaves appeared on the branches, blossoms materialized and were replaced by fruit. The trunk and branches grew, and the leafy cover spread upward and outward, seemingly pushing away what was left of the cloud cover in the process, revealing a beautiful, starry sky above, blocked now only partially by green leaves. She let the branches and roots reach far out into the spaces of her mind, and the whole terrain seemed to come alive with it. The tree itself seemed to resonate with its own subtle light and soft sound and the chill that once shrouded the environment gave way to a calming, inner warmth. She let it penetrate so deep that she her body could physically feel the changes take place. Starting somewhere around the vicinity of her abdomen, she could feel a light burning sensation that gave way to a tingling feeling before spreading out through her body until it seemed to pour out of her fingers, toes and the top of her head. It was incredible.
Rising on the horizon of her mind, she could see what she could only describe as a sun, but that seemed more brilliant and less harsh at the same time. It filled the sky with the most beautiful, most brilliant colours she had ever seen. The brilliance gave way to a starry blanket on the opposite horizon. The scene stayed like that, a perpetual sunrise in her mind, a balance between opposites – between light and dark, pleasure and pain – with one gradually fading into the other.
When she felt she was finished she looked around. She had created a beautiful image in her mind, a wonderful place for the demons to hang out and the tree to flourish. And she had done it all on her own. She was more than just satisfied with herself. She was happy.
Her work was done, and she could leave without having to deal with all the muck that had taken her so long to get through when she came. And when she reached the upper levels of her mind, her Love was the only one still there, waiting for her to return. She didn't wonder where everyone else had gone. When she had let go of her demons, the sludge she had muddled through earlier, the sludge that had tethered them down, had disappeared, freeing them all from her psyche, letting them go with everything else. She no longer had to awkwardly share her mind with anyone else unless she wanted to. She no longer had to worry about someone ripping her mind to pieces from within. She no longer had to worry about someone taking over her body, using it against her, against those she cared about. She was in control of her mind, of her emotions, her power. Her mind was finally blissfully quiet. Peaceful. It was a wonderful feeling.