The Neighbor–Chapter 3

Did Alex come here often?

Were there other places?

Is this real… am I really and truly here?

“Yes,” I heard Alex’ voice in my head. “Yes. You are. We are.”

But it wasn’t real, because I did not see my hands, or my feet. It was not real because I did not see a sky.

“Of course it’s real. Look down. Look for your feet and you’ll see they are where they’ve always been. Look up and you will see the sky.”

I dared not look down, or up. What if Alex were wrong? What if I were lost, or stuck somewhere? What if I no longer had a body?

“And my heart… my heart always beats fast when I’m scared or worried or uncomfortable. I’m scared, very scared. So why can’t I hear my heart? Ha?”

The breeze had become wind, stronger, blowing through my hair, and my face, rubbing on my skin.

I heard the words I said to Alex, about the sky, about feet, about reality… but what I said to myself was different. Two words—No fear—two words I repeated to myself whenever I felt like this.

It was something I did not like. Fear. That feeling of tumult toward anything around or near me. Fearing my friends, or my parents, or my school, my teachers, my homework. A lousy grade. A snicker from a jerk. I did not want to be afraid, not here, not with Alex.

There was some help. Even through all that struggle inside me, from way down, I saw a helpful smile. I would be safe, with Alex around. Right Alex? I wanted to ask, but the question too, from behind it, had fear snickering at me.

Other words came to me, my own voice reminding me. Com’n, it’s only steps, only a tree; and I have done much harder, I’ve climbed many trees, so many that this could not be counted as climbing.

“Your heart is there. It’s all there.” They were Alex’s words. They moved my attention from my words. “You’re scared because you can feel what’s across, its magnitude, and what it would require of you. It’s scary because of the change that will come to you, leaving an older self behind.”

Thanks Alex, very helpful. Very helpful indeed.

I wanted to be an adult. I wanted to sound like an adult. Maybe then I would scare fear itself, would scare it away from me merely by being an adult.

I tried to look across. There was nothing but the log and deep endless and empty space all around it.

“There is nothing,” I said. Another attempt from my shadow, the part that hides and wants nothing but to squirm under covers, behind walls.

“Do you want to keep going, or should we go back?”

I laughed a short not-really-a-laugh, “I am not a coward, Alex.” A different part of me. The part I liked. The part that reminded me to say No Fear. The part that too often got me in trouble.

“Let’s keep going then. Let’s go up the steps.”

“Who made the steps?” Maybe I could at least slow it, slow Alex. Maybe that would help.

“You and I of course,” Alex replied without slowing one bit. He was on top, now four times higher, four times taller. I cranked my head to look at him and almost gulped. It was high and big, this log. A log in the middle of nothing. A log connecting two worlds that seemed so far from one another.

Take the first step. A deep breath, closed eyes. Then take another.

The first step is the hardest. Something one of my teachers would say.

But it wasn’t. The second step was just as hard. The third was even harder, higher, farther from the ground.

My breath grew shallower. Then I felt Alex’s hand on my shoulder. Safety? Was it now safer with Alex closer and by my side?

“We can do this. Let’s walk together.”

Yes. Together.

What was I thinking visiting this neighbor all alone?

But I like Alex.

Life is so confusing. Why is it so confusing?

Alex held my right hand and led us along the log. It was so wide I could not see its edges where it rounded off and down. It might as well have been part of some floor.

“What kind of tree was this any way?” I asked Alex, still holding my hand.

“Have you seen a Redwood, or a Giant Sequoia?”

I thought for a moment. They must be some kind of trees. I supposed giant. I hadn’t heard of the name. Not something we studied.

“Probably not,” I replied.

“Well. Those are big trees. And they live for centuries.”

“Then this is, or was, one of those trees?”

“Not quite. Same lineage, but much older, much bigger. More like a petrified tree from another age. Tens of thousands of years old, maybe hundreds of thousands.”

It was still scary. In the middle of nothing, on top of nothing. Still holding Alex’ hand, I looked around but could see nothing except the log, and Alex. “How come I cannot see anything? It’s like it’s suddenly all too dark, just when we got close to this tree-bridge.”

“Let’s sit for a moment.”

I looked up at Alex, unsure if I really wanted to stop there. “Here? On the tree? A petrified tree?”

“Sure,” Alex replied, and without letting go of my hand, bent down and sat.

Okay. Okay. I repeated to myself, breathing.

“It’s dark because it’s scary. Try not to be. This is all part of Creation. And Creation is always on your side. So you don’t have to ever let being scared slow you or stop you.”

“I don’t like that.” I didn’t, because what about jumping off the log, would this Creation thing be on my side then?

“I know you would not jump, that would not make sense.”

“But why is it so dark, Alex? Why doesn’t this Creation make it bright?”

“It is dark. It’s hard to see, I know. But whenever being so scared makes everything around you this dark, remember to listen, and you will hear beautiful music. And whenever being so scared is so loud that you cannot hear anything, try to smell what’s around you and will sense all of the most beautiful aromas the world has.”

“And if I cannot see or hear or smell, then what?”

“Then wait for its touch, on your skin, like a breeze, like something your mother might do.”

I wanted to believe Alex. I wanted to listen and hear music. I tried. I tried to focus on sounds. “I’m trying, Alex.”

“Okay. Try. I will be right here next to you, with you.”

It seemed like it was becoming even darker. Darker and darker. I did not want to see it—this darkness—taking over, so I closed my eyes, so I would not notice it. I tried to listen, to find the music that Alex said was here. But there was only humming. It was as if it came from the tree, from the log. A little more than humming, like a heartbeat, up and down. But different from my heart. My heart was like a drum, quick and thumping. Here it was humming, slow, repeating. A little louder, then a little softer. A little louder, and a little softer. It slowed me. It calmed me. It got closer to me, as if it were a person I knew well walking, approaching, all the while playing an instrument. I felt myself wanting to cry, not weep, just to let a couple of tears roll down.

“Is that the tree, Alex?”

“It’s Creation. The tree is part of Creation.”

Creation had a beat, music!

“Creation is alive, present, with us, with you, and me.”

I swallowed. Because if Alex were right, that Creation was on my side, through thick and thin, then…

Could it be so?

“It is so.” It was Alex’ voice again. “One other thing. Very important.”

“Okay. What’s that?”

“Just as Creation is on your side, it wants you to be on its side.”

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