I R K E D K I W I » Only One: Part 3

Pin · *By Pin on 06.22.09 6:00 pm*

On May 7, 2298, three months after Renault’s paper began obscurely circulating through the stalest academic circles, The Brothers of Botany discovered—-with certainty—-humanity’s psychic powers. It must have been inevitable given the persistent spiritual rumblings through the centuries, but no one had seen it coming. Psychic powers were down there with purple elephants—unseen and by now untrue.

The Brotherhood had not intended to release anything so spectacular on the scene. They had been established fifty years prior to explore a quiet pursuit: vegetative attentiveness—they embraced the pun wholeheartedly. The Brothers concentrated on vegetation vegetatively, hoping to observe something new about the nature of the plant kingdom through intimate empathy. They were a dedicated sect, a lifelong commitment, and as the end of the century approached their first generation of elders was maturing. For the first time in human endeavors there existed plant-watching adepts, disciples who had spent their lives honing the skill.

Brother Edgar was one of the oldest elders, and the most revered in the order. He was the strictest member and rarely spoke. Unlike most other beginners, Brother Edgar had not started his practice on an eye-catching vine or sapling. Arriving in the first few months of the Brotherhood’s existence, Edgar had situated himself in the very center of the group’s garden and planted a single oak seed. It took two years for his seed to germinate, but he didn’t seem to mind. Everyday he would sit in the center of the garden, waiting patiently, the same before it sprouted as after. He didn’t sing to his plot of land as some brothers chose to, and he didn’t name his tree. He didn’t prune the branches or rake the leaves or stroke the bark. He just sat. For decades he watched as his oak spurted upward, hardened, and slowly twisted outward. Leaves fell around him building a thick blanket of detritus; a few branches snapped. He remained, inscrutable.

But subtly over time he did begin to smile at the tree. It was imperceptible at first, but every year the smile grew a tiny bit. For awhile, his smile reached an appearance of beaming serenity. Was he enlightened in some fashion—-the brothers wondered—-had he seen something they could see? They pondered in awe for a few years.

But Brother Edgar’s smile continued to widen, until it looked more goofy than serene. Then it got wild…gleaming, knowing…almost naughty. If anyone asked him what he was doing he would reply—-waiting for the right moment. His left eyebrow began to rise suggestively and his breathing became heavy. It was a curious energy to be around, and a few of the brothers gave up their own plants to sit with him around the oak. They breathed heavily too, trying to summon whatever arousal had hit Brother Edgar.

One day, out of nowhere, the right moment came. Brother Edgar sat down without ceremony, as he did every morning, but this time he sat a little closer, looking up. He sat and he waited half the morning. The brothers were tense with expectation. Then with a sudden intake of breath, Edgar’s nostrils flared and he whispered to the oak, “Dance for me.”

It was as though the tree had suddenly un-paused. The natural curves of its limbs began to carry throw in a hypnotic flow of motion. Its trunk swayed towards and away from the brothers, guiding the weight of the branches. The tree danced.

(go to part 4)

Only One: Part 3

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