It was a rather odd-looking child who almost looked as if he were made out of clay.
"I fell from a branch," gasped Gerald, "and I--can't get up on this one."
"Looks like he needs help," said another boy who had appeared, a boy with rather strange pointed ears.
"If I was dangling from a branch like that, I'd want to be pulled back up," said a girl.
"So would I," added another girl.
To Gerald's gratification, a whole cluster of children had gathered and as many as there was room for took a piece of his arms or his hands and yanked him up to the branch. There, Gerald could see a red one-roomed school house. The branch seemed steady enough, so Gerald assumed the tree had not yet fallen.
The face of an old man stuck his head out of the door of the school house. He was wearing a white robe and a pointed cap plastered with paper stars.
"Where's my class?" he asked in a rather belligerent voice.
"Helping a sentient creature in distress," said a girl.
"If you was dangling from a branch," a girl repeated, "wouldn't you like it if somebody pulled you back up?"
"I most certainly would," said the old man, his face softening considerably. "And I suppose this is the specimen of humanity that the last tree quake brought us. How did you get up in this tree?"
"A turtle brought me," said Gerald, not expecting to be believed.
"Which one?"
"Tetrahedron."
Several children cheered.
"Tetrahedron? He's an all-right turtle if there ever was one. Welcome to my class!"
"Uh -- I'm looking for my friends who got lost just now," said Gerald.
"Then you can study how to find them, if that's what you want to know. Back into the classroom everybody!"
Gerald had hardly made up his mind that he wanted to enter a schoolhouse during such a time of crisis, but he couldn't think of any polite way to decline the invitation. The press of children pouring back into the school gave him little choice in any case. Once inside, Gerald could see that this was no ordinary class room. Some of the children were so fair they had to be elves. One of them was practicing a flute while another was knitting a garment. Other children looked more like little dwarves; even the small boys were sporting their first beards. A group of them was beating a piece of metal on an anvil. Gerald decided that the children who appeared to be made of clay had to be gnomes. One such gnome was shaping figures out of a pool of mud on the floor. Some of the children looked more human, among them a girl typing away at a laptop computer and a boy tinkering with the parts of a dismembered radio and a group of children studying parchment maps like the ones Sharon had saved from Tindy's Shop. Other children poured over books of various sizes.
"Uh -- are you a sorcerer?" Gerald asked the teacher.
"What makes you think I'm a sorcerer?"
"Uh -- the pointed cap with the stars, I guess."
"Oh that! No, I'm wearing my dunce cap."
"Dunce cap? Since when do teachers wear a dunce cap?"
"For teaching pupils like these, not to speak of taking you on."
Gerald smiled and let the old man clap a hand on his shoulder.
"New boy!" cried one of the girl dwarves.
"What you want to learn?" asked a young elf.
"We can teach you the cherry blossom mode in the golden cone musical system," said the elf who had just stopped practicing his flute.
"Want to learn how to forge the primal elements of the universe?" asked a girl dwarf from the forge.
"Want to learn how to make tadpoles out of the primal soup?" asked the gnome.
Gerald scratched his head.
"I -- want to find my friends. They got lost."
"Nice outfit you've got!" jeered a boy.
Mortified, Gerald tightened his bath robe.
"It's a nice bath robe," said an elf-girl, obviously trying to make Gerald feel better. "And I really like your moccasins."
Gerald wasn't sure that he wanted to have girls going crazy over his bath robe and slippers, but there wasn't anything he could do besides be embarrassed about it.
"How did you lose your friends?" asked a boy who was already pulling a thick book off a shelf and leafing through it.
"It's a long story," said Gerald.
"Make it short," said a dwarf-boy.
"Make it long," said an elf.
"It started when two guys took my breakfast and arrested me," Gerald began.
"Arrested you?"
"A bandit!"
"A desperado!"
"A pirate!"
"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Gerald cried.
"Aw, shucks," said a dwarf-boy in the ensuing silence.
"Did you go to jail?" asked the elf-girl who had complimented Gerald on his bath robe.
"No. That was yesterday. Today, a dragon came by my window and flew me away before they could put me in jail again."
Too late, Gerald realized the children would likely ridicule him for saying that, but no such thing happened.
"What kind of dragon?" asked a dwarf-boy.
"It had green eyes," said Gerald.
The children cheered.
"Then what happened?"
"We -- tried to find out if my friend Sharon got arrested, too and --"
Gerald clapped a hand to his mouth.
"The dragon! I think the dragon catchers caught him!"
Suddenly everything was in a commotion in the class room as some children chanted: "Save the dragons!" and other children tore pages out of books to look up references on how to save dragons. Without warning, the school shook and the children screamed. Gerald was thrown against a book case on the wall. Volumes upon volumes fell on top of him and the nearby pupils.
"Better learn what's tumbling the schoolhouse!" cried a boy.
"Maybe this book has it," said the gnome, opening a book that had fallen in the mud with his muddy hands.
"I've got a computer program for it," said the girl at the terminal.
"The thunder and lightning mode might tell us," said the boy with the flute.
Gerald held up his hands.
"I can tell you," he announced.
His voice could not be heard over the clamor.
"Say it louder," the teacher prompted.
"I CAN TELL YOU!" Gerald yelled.
The class room fell silent as if a compact disc had been suddenly shut off.
"They are trying to chop down this tree."
The children gasped and looked at each other.
"Who?" asked the gnome.
"Them! I don't know. It's just them!"
The commotion this time was worse than the time before. The gnome examined his pool of mud as if the answer were there. The elf who was knitting examined the garment in detail. Other children pawed over the books that had fallen during the last quake.
"I KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Gerald yelled. When the class room became silent once more, Gerald added: "I think." A couple of children giggled, but they remained silent. "We need to collect all the pine cones and hazelnuts and fruits and flowers that we can."
"Who said so?" asked a boy who had practically fallen into the large volume he was reading.
"The Tree told me," said Gerald.
"Best reason I can think of," said the teacher. "Better go out and get the pine cones and hazel nuts and fruits and flowers before it's too late."
With whoops of delight, the children poured out of the school house, some of them still carrying lap top computers or books. The gnome scooped up a handful of his mud, the elf her knitting, the dwarves their forge, the flute player his flute, and a group of children their parchment maps.
"The Tree never said anything to me," one elf-boy muttered.
"You think the tree should get chopped down for that?" a girl chided him.
The boy blushed, shrugged his shoulders, and ran for the nearest pine cone. Children tumbled over each other in their frantic efforts to pick off as many pine cones and nuts as they could. In the confusion, Gerald almost forgot to pick a pine cone for himself. He couldn't help but think of Sharon, and he hoped she was okay and hadn't fallen out of the tree altogether and gotten hurt, or worse.
"Thank you for going to school on my branches and playing on my branches and for gathering my fruits," said the Tree.
The elf-boy who had complained about not being spoken to almost fell off, he was so frightened by the deep voice. The tree was jolted once again, spilling children and books and computers all over the branches. An elf girl took a hold of Gerald to keep him on his feet and other children supported each other as best they could. The next jolt knocked the school house off its branch and it fell through the leaves down further than any of the children could see.
"Fifty-three-point-forty-three years of teaching lost!" cried the teacher.
"Nothing is lost," said Gerald.
"How do you know?" asked the teacher.
"A dragon told me that -- the one with green eyes."
"Thank you for not falling off," said the Tree. "Please pardon the inconvenience of my instability as my beloved enemies chop me down."
The Tree's words were almost lost as it shook so hard that a tornado could have struck it. This time, the tree toppled over with everybody and everything along with it. The fall was just long enough for Gerald's mind to fill up with horror and helplessness. But Gerald and the children were not smashed into smithereens. They landed, bounced high up in the air, bounced again and again and finally settled into a gigantic net held around the edges by an army of firemen and many other people who must have come from all over the world and from all periods of history. Gerald was certain he saw the two men who tried to arrest him that morning and the dragon catchers among them.
"We got them!" one of the firemen cried. "We got the whole lot of them!"
The other firemen gave out a thunderous cheer. Branches of the fallen Tree hung over the children so closely that they could reach for more pine cones and hazelnuts and fruits and flowers before they were torn away. When Gerald saw the Mack truck off to the side with the dreaded inscription: PARAGON DRAGON CATCHERS, he cried out, but his warning was drowned out by the screams of the children and the cries of jubilation from the firemen.
"That Tree won't tell us what to do any more!" one of the men cried.
"Now I can plant my buildings where I want them!" cried another.
The firemen wrapped the net around their captives and carried them over to the truck. The open back panel gaped like a black hole. The firemen thrust them all into the truck, and slammed the panel shut. Then the truck took off with a roar loud enough to fill several worlds.
Gerald expected to be crammed in with the children and the dragons like sardines in a can. Instead, Gerald found himself floating in a sort of fog. He put his hand to his glasses, suddenly wondering if they were still on, but they were still in his place in spite of all the tumbling he had been through.
"SHARON!" Gerald called out desperately.
He heard nothing. Gerald took a few steps in the mist, wondering if he was going anywhere at all, or if there was any anywhere any more. With another cautious step he bumped into someone or something.
"Watch where you're going!" a woman squealed.
"I can't see anything!" Gerald protested.
"That doesn't mean I can see anything!"
"I'm sorry," Gerald apologized, swallowing his exasperation with the woman as best he could, "Did I hurt you?"
"Well, come to think of it, not really. I guess I'm not hurt at all, but no thanks to you."
"Did you get arrested for -- making friends with dragons or something?" Gerald asked.
"I don't know what they put me in this paddy wagon for. I was just minding my business planting flowers and next thing I knew, somebody threw this net all round me."
"I'm sorry," said Gerald.
"It's a sorry mess they've made of this world."
"What's left of it," said Gerald. "Uh -- got any flowers with you?"
"Well, now that you ask -- yes, I do. Want a look?"
The woman sounded kinder. Gerald fumbled in the fog until he felt a flower pressed gently into his hand.
"It feels nice," said Gerald. "I wish I could see it. Smells nice, too."
"It's the most beautiful begonia I've ever grown. I'm so glad you like it."
"Would you like to see my pine cone?"
"You've got a pine cone?"
"Yes, from the Tree. I got it just before the Tree got chopped down. Here!"
Gerald found the woman's hand and put his pine cone into it. He thought perhaps he could see the beginning of a golden glow from the pine cone once the woman touched it.
"Why this is the most beautiful pine cone I've ever seen," said the woman. "You sure know the right trees in this world."
Gerald felt the mildest of jolts under his feet, and then he felt as if he were standing on something more substantial than a fog of mist. Looking down, Gerald could see a pair of blue eyes shining up at him.
"Is that you, Tetrahedron?" asked Gerald.
"No," was the reply, "I'm Tropologistic. Tetrahedron is my cousin. We're looking for each other and you're welcome to ride me as I search."
"Thank you."
Gerald felt a gentle movement as the turtle ambled about through the fog. Gerald reached for the woman he had just been talking with and called out to her, but he received no reply. He still had her begonia and she had his pine cone. Gradually, Gerald saw other pairs of lit eyes appearing out of the mist. Some were green, some blue, some red, some orange, and there were other colors besides. Gerald hoped he would not be confused about which creatures told the truth and which did not. As the creatures came closer to together, Gerald heard the sound of many voices, some of them human, others sounding like turtles and dragons, and others he couldn't identify.
"SHARON!" Gerald called out.
He wasn't sure his voice was carrying as other people were calling out to loved ones as well. He listened for Sharon's voice, but didn't hear it.
"SHARON!"
"Right here under your turtle's nose," Sharon replied.
"Why didn't you say so?"
"I tried."
Indeed, it was hard to hear Sharon even now over the voices of so many people lost in the Mack truck.
"Were you hurt when they chopped down the tree?"
"No, I fell into the net. Did you?"
"Yes, I did. But first, I landed on a branch with the strangest school you ever saw. Kids were playing flutes and playing with mud and --"
"You should have seen the school I landed on," said Sharon. "It was a school of fish. There were bass and perch and walleye and baby salmon and wise old salmon."
"In a tree?"
"In a cosmic tree you have to have everything," Sharon replied, rather condescendingly. "At least, that's what the wise old salmon said. Did you ever get another pine cone or something?"
"Yea. But I gave it away. I've got a begonia a woman just gave me when I gave her the pine cone."
"I think that will be good enough."
"Sharon!"
"Sharon!"
"Mommy! Daddy!"
Another turtle, this one with yellow eyes, came up next to Sharon. With so many bright eyes of dragons and turtles, it was beginning to be light enough to see people's faces.
"I was so worried about you!" Sharon's mother exclaimed.
"And I was worried about you!" Sharon cried. "I was worried about me for that matter."
Gerald stood with his hands in his pockets while Sharon's parents fussed over their daughter.
"We have been looking for your parents, too," said Tetrahedron to Gerald, "but they've been too busy for us to get their attention."
"Typical," said Gerald, downhearted.
Fortunately, Sharon's parents finally noticed Gerald and started to talk with him as well, so he didn't feel quite so lonesome.
"This sure is the biggest paddy wagon I've ever been in," said Sharon's father.
"It didn't look so big outside," said Gerald.
"I know!" Sharon exclaimed. "Maybe it's like that prison you stumbled into."
"What do you mean I stumbled into it?"
"I didn't just get there by a mistake to free somebody who wasn't even there yet," Sharon retorted.
"Children!" Sharon's mother intervened. "Isn't it silly to argue about something like that when the world has come to an end?"
Gerald began to wonder if he was still inside the computer program he had fallen into, but that question didn't seem relevant enough to pursue further.
"And we have to do something about it before it's too late," added Gerald.
"What can we do if there's no world left?" asked Sharon's father.
"We have pine cones and hazelnuts," said Sharon. "Maybe we can plant them."
"In this dense fog?" Sharon's father asked.
"And you still have your maps?" Gerald asked.
"At your service," Sharon replied, holding up her bunch of scrolls.
"You know," said Gerald, "if they cut down the Cosmic Tree, then there probably isn't a Mack truck left.
"So?" said Sharon.
"So maybe there can't be any boundaries at all."
"That could be a problem," said Sharon's father.
"If there are no boundaries, then we're all free," said Sharon.
"Violent Violas and verissimo vocalizing! If it isn't Gerald the fugitive from injustice himself!"
Riding on a dragon was Mrs. Vivaldi with her husband and Antonio.
"Gosh!" Gerald exclaimed. "Looks like everybody 's here!"
"Nobody is lost," said the dragon.
"Not even the guys who chopped down the tree?" Gerald asked.
"They looked pretty lost to me," said Sharon.
"You know what I mean," said the dragon.
"Not really," Sharon confessed.
"Come one! Come all! Bring your hazelnuts! Bring your pine cones! Bring your flowers! Bring your fruits! Come to the Deepest Lake of the World!"
That voice belonged to the teacher from the red school house. He came by riding on a dragon and summoning everybody. Indeed, the turtles and dragons, most of them with one or more passengers were all gathering by the edge of what indeed did appear to be the Deepest Lake in the World.
"There's the new boy again!" cried the elf girl, the one who had liked Gerald's bath robe.
"Good thing you came along so we could get our pine cones," said the boy who had been upset about the Tree not speaking to him.
Meanwhile, several fish swam around Sharon and rubbed themselves affectionately against her shoulders.
Several of the children were seated on a dragon with red eyes. Some of them were leafing through what was left of the books after the fall of the schoolhouse. Others were typing away at their desktop computers. The flute player was there, practicing his flute. The gnome was shaping a tree out of a pile of mud. The dwarves pounded on their anvils and another group of children unrolled their maps.
"Is everybody here?" cried the school teacher, starred dunce cap still on his head.
"YEA!" was the thunderous response.
"As you know," the school teacher continued, "the Cosmic Tree was chopped down, which is a cause of inconvenience and misdirection that must be corrected. The Ancient Salmon at the bottom of this lake has volunteered to swallow all pine cones, hazel nuts, flowers, fruits, and seeds of every kind. The Ancient Salmon also needs all the books, pages of books, primal elements, primordial slime and maps that we have salvaged. Then he will give birth to the new Cosmic Tree. Everybody ready?"
"YEA!"
"One! Two! Three!"
On the count of three, Gerald threw his begonia, Sharon her pine cone and all her maps. All others who had gathered by the side of the Deepest Lake in the World threw in what they had brought. The hazelnuts and pine cones and fruits and flowers and books and maps gave off an explosion of color great enough to fill many worlds.
"This'll be the best cosmic tree we've ever had!" exclaimed an elf.
"Those guys thought there wouldn't be a cosmic tree anymore," giggled one child. "Will they ever be surprised!".
Gerald almost felt happy enough not to miss his parents, but he couldn't help but hope that a turtle or dragon would get their attention some day.
When the explosion of color was at its height, the head of a fish many times the size of a whale broke the surface and opened wide its mouth. It swallowed all that had been offered for the new cosmic tree, and then swam back down to the bottom of the deepest lake in the world, leaving darkness behind except for the glittering lights of the dragons' and turtles' eyes.
"Will we have to wait long?" Sharon asked her mother.
"I don't know, dear."
"I don't know how you keep time in a place like this -- if it is a place," said Sharon's father.
Gerald tried to be patient, but it was hard. He didn't like not having a cosmic tree. Still, he didn't want his impatience to show, so he took a deep breath and waited. As he waited, he began to realize that, after the frantic episodes of the past two days, it was nice to stand quietly and not do anything.
The flute player began to play a tune. Then a string quartet started in. Even guitars and drums joined in. Then some voices. And more voices. Gerald started singing a new song of his own:
I am waiting for the new
tree to bloom
I am waiting for the end
of doom.
I am waiting for the break
of dawn,
The dawn as fresh as a fawn.
"Very good!" exclaimed Antonio.
"Not bad," said Sharon.
"Sing it again," said an elf.
"It wasn't much," said Gerald.
"Sing it again and it will be more," said a girl dwarf encouragingly.
So Gerald sang his song again as others joined in with him:
I am waiting for the new
tree to bloom
I am waiting for the end
of doom.
I am waiting for the break
of dawn,
The dawn as fresh as a fawn.
As the music grew louder, the first leafy branch of a tree broke the surface of the Deepest Lake of the World.
THE END