Keeping Holiday (7 page)
Dylan turned back to the trees. “Who called me to come out of the cave?” he asked. “Was it a tree?”
The younger tree exploded in a burst of laughter. It shook all over as if at the mercy of a violent storm. The laughter continued for a full minute. The little tree’s father made several embarrassed attempts at stopping it, saying things like, “All right, that’s enough,” and “Come on, now, calm down.”
The laughter subsided at last with a final, “Oh my.” Then the little tree said quietly, as though to himself, “What does he think we are—
magic
trees?” and he giggled again.
“The Founder called you,” the older tree responded in a glad and grave voice.
The horror of the cave, the terror of thinking he would never leave it, the relief at finding himself outside, and the joy of reunion with Clare—all these had driven thoughts of Holiday clear out of Dylan’s mind. Now, with the mention of the Founder, desire for the real Holiday flooded over him again, with even greater intensity. His experiences in the cave, rather than discouraging him in his quest for the real Holiday, made him that much more certain that it must be well worth the price.
“The Founder,” Dylan repeated softly. If he was the owner of the big voice, Dylan wanted to find him more than ever. “Does the Founder live here in this forest?”
That set the little tree off again. “You must think this is a pretty big forest, if you think that it could hold the Founder!” it managed to gasp, in between outbursts.
Dylan had begun to feel somewhat annoyed with the little tree’s giggling fits. Its father felt the same way, apparently, for it now said, sternly, “That’s enough. This is really not the time to be silly.”
“I can’t help it,” the tree protested, “he has such funny ideas.”
“You will help it,” the father tree replied, “or I won’t let the squirrels play in your branches when they come later today.”
That produced an instant effect. The little tree made a noise as though it were choking on something—
another burst
of laughter
, Dylan thought—then grew silent. A slight tremble in its branches gave the only evidence of how great an effort this cost the little tree.
The older tree turned its attention back to Dylan. “The Founder doesn’t live here,” he told him. “This is his forest, though. He’s the one who planted it, right up against that cave. People who keep Holiday—and even many who don’t—enjoy the trees of this forest.”
Dylan and Clare turned to each other, their faces lit with the same idea that had just occurred to them both. “The trees on the way into Holiday,” Clare said.
“The ones that seem to smell more pine-y and to look more beautiful than trees at home,” Dylan added.
The little tree spoke up, its fits of silliness over for now. “They’re from here,” it said with pride. “Trees from the Forest of Life. All the trees in this forest are evergreens, and only evergreens. Pine trees, fir trees—trees that never lose their leaves and look dead. We’re evergreen trees; we are
ever
green, alive all the time, even in the dead of winter. We’re Forest of Life trees, we are,” and the little tree seemed to draw itself up to be an inch or two taller.
“Oh, then maybe this was where we were supposed to go,” Dylan said. “We were trying to get to the city of Holiday—the real one, you know, not just the fake one that we always go to for vacations—and we got to a gate we couldn’t open. There was a sign that said we needed Proof of LIFE—was it talking about this forest?”
The young tree emitted
the tiniest trace of a giggle, but quickly got it under control. “This
is
where you’re supposed to be and some little proof that you’ve been here is
exactly
what you need.”
“What kind of proof ?” Dylan asked, looking around him.
“Cut off a piece from one of my branches,” the father tree suggested. “Don’t worry—that’s one way plants are better than people. Cut a piece off of you, and it’s a real problem—cut a piece off of a plant and the plant just grows better. Here, look, this little bit of branch right here,” and it waved a branch.
Dylan took out his penknife and did as the tree said, although he could not help feeling that there was something wrong with cutting a piece from a tree that could talk. The tree, however, did not seem to mind in the least. Dylan put the piece of branch in his backpack, and asked, “And where do we go from here? You already said no one goes back into that cave once they’re out; how do we get back on our way to the real Holiday?”
“Go straight on through the Forest, and you’ll find, when the trees begin to grow scarce, a little winding bit of a road that will lead right to that same gate that required proof of life. Once you’re through that gate, you’ll find yourself in a part of a town that you won’t much like. It’s not Holiday, that’s for sure, but another little town just on the outskirts. Stay alert and watch out, because it’s not a safe place.”
“Is that the only way to get there?” Clare asked.
“It is for first-time visitors,” the tree answered. “Your goal is a pretty little park in that part of town. If you keep following the widest path, you can’t miss it. It’s a very pretty park, and perfectly safe, despite its surroundings. You can spend the night there quite comfortably.”
“Will the Founder be there?” Dylan asked. “Because that’s what I really want—to find the Founder so I can be authorized to get into Holiday whenever I like. And,” he added, “to thank him for getting me out of the cave.”
The little tree corrected him. “You don’t find the Founder; he finds you. He’s not just the Founder; he’s the Finder too.” The tree giggled, just a little. “That rhymed.”
“I know,” Dylan said. “I’ve heard it before.”
“But remember,” the father tree said, ignoring all the interruptions, “you must have a visitor’s pass or you can’t get into the park. And if you don’t get in the park, you might as well turn around and go back home.”
“Not a problem. We have visitor’s passes,” Dylan said, holding his up.
“No, but you have to have one when you get to the park,” the little tree said.
The big tree leaned over so that it was touching the smaller tree. “Don’t worry about it,” it said. “They’ll have what they need when they get there.”
“Well, thank you,” Dylan said, starting off.
“Yes, you’ve been tremendously helpful,” said Clare.
“And thanks for the piece of branch,” Dylan added, but he couldn’t be heard. The little tree could contain itself no longer and was laughing hysterically once more. “Did you hear what she said?” it was gasping. “We’ve been tremendously helpful. Get it?
Tree-
mendously!” And it roared with laughter.
T
hose trees give a whole new meaning to the words, ‘living plants,’” Dylan said, as he and Clare walked on through the forest.
“And the whole forest is like that,” Clare replied. “It’s like when you’re in the woods right after it rains and you see big drops hanging on the ends of everything, just waiting to fall. This forest is like that, only instead of drops of water ready to fall, it’s dripping with—well, with ‘aliveness,’ if you know what I mean.”
The cousins walked for a moment in silence, then Clare said, “In fact, I’ll be sorry when we’re out of this forest. The next place doesn’t sound nearly so nice.”
“True,” Dylan agreed, “but I’m sure it’s okay or the trees wouldn’t have sent us that way. Hey, look, isn’t that the gate up there?”
And sure enough, Dylan and Clare were coming out of the forest and were back at the gate that had refused them entrance earlier. This time, when Dylan inserted his pass and the gate asked for “Proof of LIFE,” he waved the pine branch near the screen. The gate clicked and swung open. The children stepped through.
Immediately inside the gate stood a bench next to a bright green stand with a box at the top. Large letters on the box’s lid said, “Take one.” Dylan opened the box and took one of the papers that were inside.
“Maybe it’s more directions about where to go,” Clare said.
“Not exactly,” said Dylan, reading the paper and seating himself on the bench. Clare sat too, and Dylan began to read out loud. “It says ‘Holiday’ at the top,” he began, “then it says:
Authorized Personnel will:
look out for the interests of others, not just for their own personal interests;
pay back good for evil;
do, speak, and think only what is kind;
keep tempers, emotions, and mouths under control at all times;
demonstrate forgiveness to the same person up to 490 times;