The Story of the Trees - Sword, Ring, and Crown Book One

Chapter One

Four Years Later

I was scouring the tree-house I lived in, trying to locate the contact that I'd misplaced. I wore brown contacts to hide my eyes ever since my mother changed me into a boy. But while readying for bed the night before, I had placed their case on the stand beside my bed. Had it fallen through the cracks of the floor of my treehouse? Since I couldn't find it anywhere up top, I stuck my eye against a knothole in the floor to see if I could spot a sign of it below. However, it wasn't at the foot of the oak tree either. I pushed aside a pile of library books on the ground to see if I had kicked the container under them -- no dice.

Klick and Klack, the pets I created several years ago, were flapping on the sill of the window as they worried a ladybug. The two skeletal birds formed one day out of my loneliness. Despite having Luis, I often was alone. He had secrets that kept him away most nights on mysterious errands. No amount of threats or bribes would get him to tell me where he went. Luis was all I really had, so he knew that all my threats were empty and my bribes were not valuable enough.

Finally, I was sitting up there in the tree on one such night, feeling sorry for myself while thinking about Adrian as well. I really missed him, and he'd clung to me so much the day before we left him behind. The guilt had burned especially bright the day I made Klick and Klack. 

Pieces of bone rose from the lawn and assembled into the birds. Because of their small size, I supposed they once were sparrows. Ever since my riding accident when I was five, I'd been able to make skeleton friends, but my mother punished me when I attempted it in her presence. One time I had welcomed a very malicious spirit into our home, and I still freaked out at the sight of dolls because of it.

 In any case, I'd been shocked that I'd managed to do it. However, after seeing them assemble, old guilt rose as I'd fretted about what Mother would say, even though it had been more than a year since I'd seen her. Because of that, they were my only creations. Another reason I didn't make anymore was that I supposed people would run screaming if they saw a group of skeletons strolling down Main street.

My birds were full of mischief, but I adored them. Klick had "feathers" created from crochet -- dozens upon dozens of intricate layers in a rainbow of colors that covered all but the bird's beak and its skeletal feet. In contrast, Klack was a pink pom-pom kiwi with wings. Despite the wings being flat, they were somehow fluffy.

 After enduring more teasing, the ladybug managed to evade their snapping beaks and fled. On the day I made them, Aisa had not even blinked when they flew into her home. She knitted some coverings for them so that they'd be recognized as birds and not tiny dead dinosaurs. Despite giving me barebones accommodations after assuming responsibility for me, I was touched that she did that for me. I also admired how she accepted the weird with an aplomb that only the insane could sustain.

For years ago, when Luis and I ran from the police and left Adrian behind, we'd hid out in Aisa's treehouse. She had come out with a broom, ready to beat us out of her yard. Fortunately, Luis had turned into a rabbit before she climbed the ladder, so all she saw was a scrawny boy pathetically clutching a bunny. I guess she felt sorry for me, so she let me stay. The next day she had forged papers that gave me an identity and made her my guardian. I had no idea how she pulled it off, but I supposed that she had some amazing connections. 

"I have friends in low places," she had told me.

For the most part, other than the times I was being used to model the sweaters she knit, I stayed outside and fended for myself. Despite that, I was grateful to have a place to stay. She was more like my landlady than my guardian, anyway. And I had Luis. So, that was enough.