Loneliness
by Edward Rodosek
Martin Shawer walked uphill
by Edward Rodosek
Martin Shawer walked uphill
along the only path to the top of Rocky Hill and helped himself with his stick. There was no hurry at all. Such walks were, for him, the only way to forget how alone he'd been. Like always, through all long years since his wife had passed away. On relaxing walks like this, he remained alone--but he felt less lonely than usual.
During his walk, a tiny twig of some bush struck his face, almost knocking down his spectacles. Martin smiled inwardly; then he was still treading too fast.
Gradually, there were not trees or bushes any more, nor even grass. The stony ground he was treading over was smooth, without any crack or lump. The ascent wasn't steep, but it was so long Martin got weary of it with time. Once or twice, Martin was tempted to return, but then his stubbornness prevailed.
A good hour later, Martin managed to creep up onto the top of Rocky Hill. He sat down on a flat area shaded by a big tree. Some soft lichen thin as a letter paper covered the even stony ground.
“Hello and welcome here by me, being!” Some strange voice sounded... It sounded like inside Martin. Although it was unbelievable, that sound must have been from the big tree, for no one else was there.
Martin needed some time before he could answer to the big tree. “Being? What a strange word. I'm a man. And what... I mean who... are you?”
“Well, I'm a tree--an oak to be exact,” said the big tree. “Ah man, you don't know how happy I am to have a company after such a long time.”
Martin managed somehow to get over his surprise. “Hello to you too, big tree. Okay, I'll pretend I'm really capable to hear you and to talk with you.”
“Why do you say pretend? Of course you can that.”
Martin shrugged his shoulders. “Look, maybe we could have a little chat while I'm resting. But then I have to get back down the hill.”
“Ah no, don't leave me so soon! I wish to ask you for a tiny favor, man.”
“Don't call me man; my name is Martin. May I call you Oak?”
“Sure. You know, my appeal for that tiny favor is very important for me, Martin.”
“Don't explain,” Martin broke him off. “You just tell me what tiny favor you have in mind.”
“Well, I like to have a steady company so I wouldn't be so lonely. Soon, before I'd dry up and rot. You know, to be alone all the time is really hard.”
Martin sighed. “Tell me about that. I could write a book about loneliness,”
“In that case, you understand me. I wish... I long for someone like me--the company of my own child.”
Martin gazed at Oak. “That shouldn't be a problem. As far I recall you oaks breed with your acorns. In autumn you should simply throw off several of your-”
“But I kept doing that every autumn, year after year, as far as I remember.” Martin could feel despair in Oak's message. “However, all of acorns fell into the abyss or rolled downwards on the slope so I've never seen them again.”
Martin opened his mouth and then closed it again.
“Look, Martin,” said Oak. “I'm not able to move, but you are. I beg you, be so kind and try to find somewhere around me, a tiny hole or crack, will you?”
“I should try to find--what?”
“A small hole, a crack, a crevice, something where at least one of my acorns would find the place to live.”
Martin cleared his throat. “For heaven's sake! How you dare call this--this impossible task a tiny favor?
Oak stayed silent.
“Okay, you won. I could try to find something--something of such a kind.”
“Oh, thank you so much, Martin!”
“I still haven't much hope of finding what you need. Nevertheless, in case I'd try to help you--what should I do?”
“The wind blows usually at late afternoon, so more than likely a dozen or two of my acorns would fall down soon. It'd be enough if you catch up one or two before they'd tumble downwards and put them into a... What you might find. For all the rest the nature would take care.”
As to command, it started blowing and Martin stuffed his pockets with acorns of various sizes.. Then he took his cell phone out of his pocket, fetched a deep sigh, and crouched next to huge Oak's trunk.
*
“Martin”, asked Oak, “why you don't you take down your sunglasses to see well?”
“Shut up!” growled Martin with unexpected harshness. He was sorry right away, but he didn't apologize to Oak.
He decided to search systematically. The tiny lichen might cover what Martin wanted to find, so he had to examine by feeling the entire surface. He had to do that in bigger and bigger circles around Oak, moving his cell phone two or three feet outwards after each searched circle.
Martin finished the first three or four circles fast, but then he got along slower. Soon, his legs hardly managed to move in squatting position. Then, he tried to kneel, but that was even worse.
He had to sit down on the damp ground repeatedly and, with time, he was resting more than searching. Soon afterwards, his foot slipped and by the fall, he hurt his elbow. That was too much for him.
“I'm really sorry, Oak, but I'm too exhausted to continue searching. I've done everything I could, do you agree?”
“Of course, Martin. I'm aware you couldn't find something that doesn't exist.”
“Now I have to set out downwards. I missed the last bus home long ago so I'll call a taxi. Where is my cell phone?”
Martin bowed down--but now his cell phone wasn't anywhere. A nice mess, indeed.
He crouched again and examined the ground around him. Nothing. At that instant, it flashed across his mind--when he fell his foot kicked something and that couldn't be anything else than his cell phone. He widened a bit the circle of searching, his hand slid over the velvet-like surface--and suddenly his fingers plunged into it.
Now his entire hand was in a hidden crack, which was narrow but deep for his fingers couldn't reach either its bottom or his cell phone.
*
“You know, Oak,” Martin sighed and wiped his forehead, “that kind of drudgery is not suitable for my age anymore.”
“I know, Martin,” Oak answered, “I'm aware of that and I'm mighty obliged to you for your effort.”
“I think I've done everything in according to your instructions,” Martin said. “At the bottom of the crack, I put rotten leaves, on them five or six your acorns and some scraped lichen. All that I watered with countless palms of rainwater from the nearby depression. I bet at least two or three of your babies will spring up next year.”
Oak's message was confused. “Ah, Martin, I couldn't find the proper words for-”
“Don't search for them; there was enough and to spare of searching today.” Martin giggled. “Take good care of your offspring, Oak. If I'd manage to keep my health over the winter I'd come here next spring again, to congratulate you, proud daddy.”
He reached his hand and patted Oak's rough bark.
“See you then.”
“Till we met again, my friend! And--and good luck.”
“I've a hunch you have still something on your mind. Well? I haven't time all night.”
“I know, Martin, you're probably tired of my questioning. But I still wonder-”
Martin sighed. “You wonder--what?”
“Why do you set out now in the pitch-dark night? We could light a fire again, sit close by it, and talk about everything until the down. Tomorrow morning, at daylight, you could get down much easier.”
Martin grinned, fixed his black glasses, picked up his white stick, and made the first semicircle in front of his feet.
“I know you mean well, Oak, and I'm grateful for your concern. You know, for my kind of people the bright day isn't any better than the dark night.”
}
~~~~~ <~
}
Bio
Edward A. Rodosek is a Construction Engineer, Senior Professor in Faculty of Construction Engineering, Ljubljana, Slovenia, European Union. Beside his professional work he writes science fiction. He is author of four novels and twelve collections of short sci fi stories in Slovenia. More than fifty of his short stories have been published in SF magazines in USA, UK, Australia and India. He has recently published in USA the collection of his short stories: 'Beyond Perception'.
During his walk, a tiny twig of some bush struck his face, almost knocking down his spectacles. Martin smiled inwardly; then he was still treading too fast.
Gradually, there were not trees or bushes any more, nor even grass. The stony ground he was treading over was smooth, without any crack or lump. The ascent wasn't steep, but it was so long Martin got weary of it with time. Once or twice, Martin was tempted to return, but then his stubbornness prevailed.
A good hour later, Martin managed to creep up onto the top of Rocky Hill. He sat down on a flat area shaded by a big tree. Some soft lichen thin as a letter paper covered the even stony ground.
“Hello and welcome here by me, being!” Some strange voice sounded... It sounded like inside Martin. Although it was unbelievable, that sound must have been from the big tree, for no one else was there.
Martin needed some time before he could answer to the big tree. “Being? What a strange word. I'm a man. And what... I mean who... are you?”
“Well, I'm a tree--an oak to be exact,” said the big tree. “Ah man, you don't know how happy I am to have a company after such a long time.”
Martin managed somehow to get over his surprise. “Hello to you too, big tree. Okay, I'll pretend I'm really capable to hear you and to talk with you.”
“Why do you say pretend? Of course you can that.”
Martin shrugged his shoulders. “Look, maybe we could have a little chat while I'm resting. But then I have to get back down the hill.”
“Ah no, don't leave me so soon! I wish to ask you for a tiny favor, man.”
“Don't call me man; my name is Martin. May I call you Oak?”
“Sure. You know, my appeal for that tiny favor is very important for me, Martin.”
“Don't explain,” Martin broke him off. “You just tell me what tiny favor you have in mind.”
“Well, I like to have a steady company so I wouldn't be so lonely. Soon, before I'd dry up and rot. You know, to be alone all the time is really hard.”
Martin sighed. “Tell me about that. I could write a book about loneliness,”
“In that case, you understand me. I wish... I long for someone like me--the company of my own child.”
Martin gazed at Oak. “That shouldn't be a problem. As far I recall you oaks breed with your acorns. In autumn you should simply throw off several of your-”
“But I kept doing that every autumn, year after year, as far as I remember.” Martin could feel despair in Oak's message. “However, all of acorns fell into the abyss or rolled downwards on the slope so I've never seen them again.”
Martin opened his mouth and then closed it again.
“Look, Martin,” said Oak. “I'm not able to move, but you are. I beg you, be so kind and try to find somewhere around me, a tiny hole or crack, will you?”
“I should try to find--what?”
“A small hole, a crack, a crevice, something where at least one of my acorns would find the place to live.”
Martin cleared his throat. “For heaven's sake! How you dare call this--this impossible task a tiny favor?
Oak stayed silent.
“Okay, you won. I could try to find something--something of such a kind.”
“Oh, thank you so much, Martin!”
“I still haven't much hope of finding what you need. Nevertheless, in case I'd try to help you--what should I do?”
“The wind blows usually at late afternoon, so more than likely a dozen or two of my acorns would fall down soon. It'd be enough if you catch up one or two before they'd tumble downwards and put them into a... What you might find. For all the rest the nature would take care.”
As to command, it started blowing and Martin stuffed his pockets with acorns of various sizes.. Then he took his cell phone out of his pocket, fetched a deep sigh, and crouched next to huge Oak's trunk.
*
“Martin”, asked Oak, “why you don't you take down your sunglasses to see well?”
“Shut up!” growled Martin with unexpected harshness. He was sorry right away, but he didn't apologize to Oak.
He decided to search systematically. The tiny lichen might cover what Martin wanted to find, so he had to examine by feeling the entire surface. He had to do that in bigger and bigger circles around Oak, moving his cell phone two or three feet outwards after each searched circle.
Martin finished the first three or four circles fast, but then he got along slower. Soon, his legs hardly managed to move in squatting position. Then, he tried to kneel, but that was even worse.
He had to sit down on the damp ground repeatedly and, with time, he was resting more than searching. Soon afterwards, his foot slipped and by the fall, he hurt his elbow. That was too much for him.
“I'm really sorry, Oak, but I'm too exhausted to continue searching. I've done everything I could, do you agree?”
“Of course, Martin. I'm aware you couldn't find something that doesn't exist.”
“Now I have to set out downwards. I missed the last bus home long ago so I'll call a taxi. Where is my cell phone?”
Martin bowed down--but now his cell phone wasn't anywhere. A nice mess, indeed.
He crouched again and examined the ground around him. Nothing. At that instant, it flashed across his mind--when he fell his foot kicked something and that couldn't be anything else than his cell phone. He widened a bit the circle of searching, his hand slid over the velvet-like surface--and suddenly his fingers plunged into it.
Now his entire hand was in a hidden crack, which was narrow but deep for his fingers couldn't reach either its bottom or his cell phone.
*
“You know, Oak,” Martin sighed and wiped his forehead, “that kind of drudgery is not suitable for my age anymore.”
“I know, Martin,” Oak answered, “I'm aware of that and I'm mighty obliged to you for your effort.”
“I think I've done everything in according to your instructions,” Martin said. “At the bottom of the crack, I put rotten leaves, on them five or six your acorns and some scraped lichen. All that I watered with countless palms of rainwater from the nearby depression. I bet at least two or three of your babies will spring up next year.”
Oak's message was confused. “Ah, Martin, I couldn't find the proper words for-”
“Don't search for them; there was enough and to spare of searching today.” Martin giggled. “Take good care of your offspring, Oak. If I'd manage to keep my health over the winter I'd come here next spring again, to congratulate you, proud daddy.”
He reached his hand and patted Oak's rough bark.
“See you then.”
“Till we met again, my friend! And--and good luck.”
“I've a hunch you have still something on your mind. Well? I haven't time all night.”
“I know, Martin, you're probably tired of my questioning. But I still wonder-”
Martin sighed. “You wonder--what?”
“Why do you set out now in the pitch-dark night? We could light a fire again, sit close by it, and talk about everything until the down. Tomorrow morning, at daylight, you could get down much easier.”
Martin grinned, fixed his black glasses, picked up his white stick, and made the first semicircle in front of his feet.
“I know you mean well, Oak, and I'm grateful for your concern. You know, for my kind of people the bright day isn't any better than the dark night.”
}
~~~~~ <~
}
Bio
Edward A. Rodosek is a Construction Engineer, Senior Professor in Faculty of Construction Engineering, Ljubljana, Slovenia, European Union. Beside his professional work he writes science fiction. He is author of four novels and twelve collections of short sci fi stories in Slovenia. More than fifty of his short stories have been published in SF magazines in USA, UK, Australia and India. He has recently published in USA the collection of his short stories: 'Beyond Perception'.
