The Bleeding Tree

THE BLEEDING TREE

Family secrets can be devastating for some people and for other’s it’s a great source of understanding. I guess it just depends on the family and its secrets. I can remember all of the stories that my grandmother told me. The last story she ever told my cousin and myself was the one about the bleeding tree. “That tree holds the blood, sweat and tears of many people. It holds the dark secrets and can tell the tale of many tragic lives.” She said to us. “The blood of slaves, war heroes and the victims of the holocaust rest beneath the tree where roots grow. The tears of young women raped, beaten and left to die watered the ground to enable the tree to grow. The cries of babies born to mother of wicked love affairs and incest were the nurturing sounds the tree needed to grow complete.” My grandmother had a way with words.

The last summer I spent with grandma was the summer before I went off to college. I loved my summers with her. The country was so beautiful. The green hills and the fields were littered with various wild flowers of all colors. The smell was fresh and I could often smell my grand mother’s apple pies and peach cobblers mixed with the country air. It made for a very majestic experience. Grandma would get up early in the morning and pick fresh vegetables out of her garden which was huge and wonderful. I often wondered how she cared for that garden when we weren’t there to help her. I guess some things will always be a mystery. That summer I met a girl named Rita. She was a beautiful girl. She looked to be Indian. Her hair was long and raven black. She had big brown eyes and reddish brown skin. Rita looked familiar to me. I felt as if I had known her before.

She had asked me if I would meet her at Wingstonston hill she wanted to show me something. I was headed out of the door when loud black car pulled up in front of grandma’s house. Out of the driver’s side popped my cousin Danielle. A smile plastered on her face as well as mine. It had been three years since I had seen her. “Hey girl, what’cha got for me!” she yelled and I ran out to give her a big hug.
“What is up?” I asked
“Nothin’ what’s up with you?”
“I just thought I’d spend this summer with grandma before I head off to college.”
“You’re going to college? I’m so damn proud of you.”
“Thanks, how’s the job?” My cousin Danielle is two years older than me and she had taken on a job as a photographer. She went to school part time and did some photos part time. I have to say she was pretty good.
“Listen I’m on my way to meet a friend at Wingston hills, do you want to come?”
“Yeah I’ll tag along just let me holla at grandma.”

I watched Danielle go into the house. I was a little jealous of her because she had the pleasure of visiting grandma on a daily basis.
“When we get back we’re gonna have some southern fried chicken, fried green tomatoes, and some creamy buttered mashed potatoes. I can’t forget raspberry tea and…peach cobbler.” She said laughing. Grandma’s cooking was the best.

When we got to Wingston Hill Rita was waiting. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that I was an hour late.
“I’m glad you made it. I started to worry.” She said her eyes on Danielle.
“Rita, this is my cousin Danielle. I hope you don’t mind her tagging along.”
“No she’s welcome.” Rita started walking and we followed her. She stopped at the bottom of the hill and pointed at a huge tree at the very top of the hill. The tree stood beautiful and grand in all of its glory. The leaves were the greenest of all greens. The tree had something unique about it, it grew white roses.
“Is that roses?” Danielle asked in amazement
“Yes.” Rita answered.
“Roses grow on rose bushes; I’ve never seen a tree that spouts roses.” I said not really sure now where roses grew.
“This is the bleeding tree. There are some interesting stories relating to this tree. The stories go back centuries.”
“My grandmother has told us a few.” Danielle said. Then Danielle ran back to her car. I knew what she was going to get. Her camera, this was a shot that I knew she couldn’t pass up.
“I’m going to tell you a story that was once told to me.” Then Rita told us the story of a young woman who had fallen in love with a soldier. The young woman was married already but it was not a marriage of love but of convince. Her husband was a childhood friend and preferred men to woman but he could never tell his family his true feelings. She could no longer stand to see her friend suffer while trying to keep his feelings in so she decided that they should get married and leave the eyes of their families by doing that they both got what they wanted, he could meet his lover and she could get out of that town. The two got married and moved away. He went off to be with his lover and she made a new life for herself in the new town.

While out shopping she met the young soldier. She fell for him right away as he did her. They would meet late nights at the bleeding tree, often making lustful, sinful love beneath the tree. One night after making love the young woman told the soldier that she was going to have a baby. After hearing the news he was indeed very happy but then he would tell her something that shattered her world. He was married and had a daughter. He promised her that he would be there for her and their child. He would not leave her alone. The soldier was faced with a difficult decision he ultimately decided to go with the young woman and leave his daughter and wife behind. His wife hurt and betrayed cursed the couple and said that their happiness would be short lived and short lived it was. In her eighth month of pregnancy the soldier hanged himself, his reason, he just couldn’t live with what he had done to his family. They found his lifeless body hanging from one of the bleeding tree limbs.

The young woman of course was devastated. The young woman’s sister had decided that she would help her attend to the baby but the sister would arrive too late.

The winds were cold and fierce. The howling of the dogs blended with the slow but loud whistle of the wind. The young woman pushed against the force of the wind trying to get to the tree. She and the soldier had decided that since the tree held so many of their fond memories why not share in the birth of their child. The young woman would stop only long enough to breath through the pain and would continue walking barefoot in the cold to the tree. Her hands were numb and so were her feet. The falling of icy rain made matters worse but she was determined to have that baby under the bleeding tree. She climbed the grassy hill. Her hands filled with clumps of grass by the time she got to the tree her pain was like thunder pulsating throughout her body. She could feel wet warmth coming from her loins and a crushing urge to push. Her screams and moans would go unheard as the thunder was loud and unmerciful and so was her pain. Her nails dug deep into the bark of the tree, she dug so deep that her fingers began to bleed. Her tears were not from the pain of giving birth but that of a broken heart. With her final push came the cries of a baby. A little girl. She did love her baby but the child would remind her of him, he who had left her when he said that he would stay. She had to do something. There it was a stone as big as the baby’s head. She picked it up and turned away as she brought the stone down on the baby’s head. The young woman then dropped the stone, got up and headed down the hill.

The next day the young woman was found by the side of the road and lying next to her was another baby girl. The young woman had bled to death but the baby was fine. They later discover the dead baby and buried it underneath the tree. The baby was given the name ROSE. It was after that that the tree stated to grow white roses.

I could see sadness in Rita’s eyes as she told the story. I think I even saw a tear. It was like the story held some personal meaning for her. Rita was so into telling the story and I so interested in hearing that neither one of us noticed that Danielle had climbed the hill and was taking pictures of the tree.
“Danielle, come on!” She turned as if my calling to her scared her. She came running down the hill.
“Man I just got the strangest feeling. Something sad ya know.”
The rest of our day was spent shopping and talking about our childhood. Rita had left us shortly after we left our tour of the bleeding tree. That night I told grandma and Danielle the story about the young woman, the soldier and both babies. Grandma seemed a bit disturbed by the story “I’ve never heard that one.” Grandma said scoffing down some peach cobbler. I just changed the subject because it bothered grandma and Danielle didn’t seem to care.

“Hey, Tasha, Sean and I are having a late lunch tomorrow. He’s bringing his twin brother Scott wanna come?”
“Yeah, I’d love to.”
“I figure we would have our picnic up on that hill. Ya know where we were today. It’s nice, it would be perfect.”
“You’re right.”
“Call up you friend Rita. She should come too.”
“O.K.”
Everything was set for our picnic. Rita said that she would meet us at the hill. That night I could not sleep. I had the unbelievable feeling of dread and sorrow. I had a tough night of sleep that night. The next day started out as planned. The guys came to pick us up and we headed off to the hill for our late lunch picnic. When we got there Rita was already there. I could see by the look on Scott and Sean’s faces that they were mesmerized by Rita. Danielle noticed too and she was not too happy about but she did behave herself. The food was delicious and the scenery was even better. The birds were chirping and the sky was blue and the tree it seemed to have more roses on it than it did the day before. The wind started to pick up a bit.
“Shhh…” Danielle said. “You hear that?”
“It’s just the wind.” Sean said
“No, what happened to the birds?” I said “Their not chirping”
All of a sudden we were surrounded by an eerie silence. The sky went from a gorgeous blue to a blood red. I stood up and looked around. The wind was blowing hard now and was followed by a freezing chill.
“We better get out of here.” Scott said.
The sky went from a blood red to a pitch black in seconds. The beautiful scene we had moments ago was now a distorted nightmare. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. The wind had blown all of our stuff away. I turned to grab Danielle when Rita grabbed me and pointed to the tree. I saw Danielle running up the hill towards the tree. Lightning flashed across the sky blinding me. I feel back and noticed that Sean and Scott had disappeared. I opened my mouth to scream for Danielle but the words escaped me, nothing came out. I could see that Danielle stood at the top of the hill with a woman, a young woman. As the lightning flashed I could see the two struggling at the base of the tree. I looked for Rita and she stood looking at me with sad eyes and bloody tears and by her side were Sean and Scott. They stood like two little boys ready to be punished for some misdeed.

The sadness that filled my heart and soul brought me to my knees and my stomach was in knots. I looked up to my cousin and saw that she was still struggling with the woman. The icy rain fell on me shocking me and making me scream so loud I swear that the world could here my cry. I stood up and started toward my cousin when Rita grabbed me by the waist and threw me down with such hard force it knocked the breath out me.
“It’s just ghost. Let the scene play its self out. You can’t change it, let it be.”
“My cousin is up there, now let me go!!!”
“No!!” Rita’s voice got deeper and her eyes were now black. She was too heavy for me to move. The lightning flashed and then all was black. When I woke up I saw Danielle coming down the hill. She didn’t look at me even when I called to her she just kept on walking as if she were in a trance. Rita, Scott, and Sean were gone. I looked at the tree and it stood on that hill unfazed by the passing storm. I gathered my strength and nerves and caught up with Danielle and we walked home in silence.

Danielle had left the next morning without saying a word. I don’t even think she slept at all that night. I did here her crying and talking to grandma. I’m sure she told her what had happened. I sat at the table that morning. Grandma came and sat down beside me. We were silent the whole morning. Grandma didn’t tell me anything about her and Danielle’s conversation the night before. As I was getting my things together she gave me a letter and asked me not to open it until I got home. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and sent me off with some of her delicious peach cobbler. The ride home I was so anxious to read the letter. Finally I opened the letter and began to read. I learned that my grandma was the twin that escaped the hands of her heart broken mother. Had the young woman lived she would have killed my grandma as well. Grandma said that she had been given the name Lilly but she preferred to use her middle name Ann. Grandma did admit that she had no idea who Rita was and how she knew so much about her past. Two weeks after reading the letter grandma died and we had her buried beside her sister Rose. Now Lilies and Roses grow among the leaves on the big beautiful bleeding tree.