The Dwarf Tree

Quite often when my children were smaller and naturally innocent, I would visit their bedside and tell a story. Most of my stories centered on the exploits of the cat or a dog. One story, however, was requested over and over. It was an amalgamation of another story I told that I called, "The Bootlegger's Cave" and J.R.R. Tolkien's, The Hobbit.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

My story often changed slightly in the retelling, and it has been many years since I've tried to remember all the key parts of the tale as my children have grown past the fantastical, but I shall attempt to recount it as well as I may.

The Dwarf Tree

Sometimes unexplainable things happen when you least expect them.

We lived in a fairly normal, fairly new, single level brick house in a wooded neighborhood. Our lot was carved out of an old Appalachian farm and orchard. In fact, the old farmhouse still was occupied just behind our backyard. Off to one side of our house, there was a stretch of mature wood. Oak trees- tall and thick, poplars-straight and lean, and maples-craggy and pitted, filled the canvas. A pathway meandered through this canopy forest track to the neighboring golf course. I'd used this path quite frequently to sneak onto the course for an early round before the sun acquired the sky. Many days, I'd go into the wood and search out a quiet spot, for there was something soothing about the rustling branches of the majestic trees that relaxed me and freed my mind.

One overcast day, I was peacefully leaning against a windfall. The day's pressure and stress swirled away from me with the gentle spring breeze. I felt myself lose focus, and my eyes squinted the surrounding trees into a fuzzy kaleidoscope of prism green. I drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Seemingly a few moments after I nodded off, I felt dampness on my face, and I slowly came to the realization that I was getting wet. A light rain was falling and threatening to become more intense. Without time to get back to the house before the blackened deluge arrived, I looked around for any shelter.

Off to my left, loomed the largest oak in the whole tract. Its branches were wide and sweeping. Its trunk was so large that two people could try to hug with the tree in the middle and they'd never touch each other. Quickly, I ran for the massive tree and pressed my back against it in the hope of staying somewhat dry. The rain came just at that instant in torrents. I couldn't hear myself over the noise from the huge drops smacking the forest leaves.

At first I thought I imagined it. Then I was pretty sure I had to be going nuts. As I leaned against that tree in that dark storm, I distinctly heard a low growling voice bark, "Say the words."

Shaking my head, I said nothing and looked to the sky for some explanation for the voice in my head. Thunder? Banging branches?

"Say the words."

There was no mistaking the voice now. It was as clear to me as the feeling of fresh rain across my face.

"I'm all wet," I muttered mostly to myself.

As soon as I said those words, I felt the whole oak grumble like my stomach before a big meal. The whole outer bark of the tree began to vibrate and it began to slide away. Before I had a chance to dart away, I heard a deep "Ahhhh Yes..." and a hole in the side of the tree appeared where my safe sanctuary was only moments before. I tumbled into the dark opening and heard the tree slam its outer bark shut tight.

Trapped inside the tree under dark and mysterious circumstances, I felt panic well up inside of me. I blindly reached my hands in the darkness feeling for anything, but I touched nothing. Seeing nothing but the intense black of the inner tree, I dropped to my knees and began sobbing as I flailed around feeling for anything that might give me a clue of how to get out of this place.

Much to my surprise, one of my frenzied hands struck something cold and steel. I stopped my sobs long enough to listen to my more careful feel. It sounded and felt to me like some kind of rail. I groped around more carefully now and soon detected a step heading downward. With no better choice apparent to me, I followed the rail and the step down inside the tree. Obviously, this was no normal tree. I had never heard of secret, dark chambers inside sprawling oaks. But there it was, and there I was.

As I carefully crawled down one cold stone step after another, a whimper welled up inside of me and escaped my lips. My teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. I thought their chattering and my sobbing would certainly alert whoever created this strange place. Yet the darkness continued, and my fears became larger.

Many steps and many more tears later, the steps abruptly completed their mission, and I found myself in some type of dark, cave-like hallway. With my hand in firm contact with the wall, I began to shuffle my way along, pausing every few steps to listen.

After what I had already been through, I was beginning to trust what I normally would believe to be illusions and phantom sounds. So it didn't surprise me when I thought I heard distant banging from somewhere down the tunnel. "Oh Great, what now, what now, what now?" I thought that by repeating that question over and over, somehow I'd block away all the bad things and would find myself awake outside. But the noises persisted. Droning louder and louder.

I began to catch a hint of a different smell. I couldn't quite identify it, but it didn't seem to smell the same in the cave hall now. The banging increased in a rhythmic incantation. Tenor bangs joined bass bangs. My mind then detected voices waving through the darkness at me and slapping my cold, wet face. Grasping my fear firmly, I trudged onward toward the center of my greatest doubt.

As I turned a corner, I glimpsed a light ahead, and it quite surprised me. I felt that I had been trapped in this darkness forever and the light seemed hopeful yet mysterious. With no place to run to hide, I felt my way closer and closer to the light, the banging, and - yes- the voices. There were all kinds of them now that I could clearly pick out. High voices, gruff voices, shouting and singing voices. They didn't seem harmful though, but still I approached carefully.

Just before breaking fully into the light, I found a particularly sufficient boulder from which to hide and spy. I plopped myself down there and pondered what I was about to do. I knew then clearly that there was some type of creatures in that lighted area on the other side of the boulder. They seemed to be happy enough, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. Carefully, I picked myself up and leaned onto the boulder and peered around.

Before me was a wide chamber, brilliantly lit by some kind of sparkling lanterns. The walls glowed and glittered like fine jewels in the sunlight. Bathed in the light, unmistakably, were DWARVES! Dancing and reeling, banging and shouting in their thick garments of solid earthy color with long dangling beards and black buckled boots. Hoisting hammers skyward and slamming them down, they carried about in some kind of zealous symphony all the while feeding their rosy red cheeks with the contents of frothy mugs. Twirling and bouncing. Leaping and dodging. Shouting and laughing. It was hard to remember to look around more carefully. They were absolutely the most fascinating sight I'd ever seen or that anyone's ever seen for that matter.

Finally, I managed to force my eyes away from the wild rumpus and scan the room more carefully. I noticed that piled in the center of the room was a mountain of jewels and precious stones. Some were deep red; others were brilliant green. Still other jewels glinted a white sparkling sheen. Jewel encrusted swords and magnificent shields were loosely stashed with the stones. Gold, real gold, tumbled out of the mound of loot like small boulders rolling down a mountainside. The incredible became more and more incredible.

My searching eyes spied a banquet table at the far end of the cavernous room. Piled high with earthy dishes of all kinds. Meats, steaming root crops, ripened fruits were all being tucked into by the happy revelers as they scooted past the table. One Dwarf, seemingly the leader based on his jeweled adornment, sat just behind the table on a ridiculously opulent throne.

Mesmerized, I continued to drink in the glorious sight, intoxicated by its beauty and its joy. I felt like lifting my feet from hiding and joining the party. Just at that moment, the Dwarf King raised a hand high in the air and everything stopped. He looked around the room slowly. Then his eyes traveled up to where I was hiding. He seemed to peer right through the boulder that was shielding me.

"It's been so long," his royal voice boomed. "It's been so very long. Many owl moons ago, we knew the creatures above the ground as friends. But they grew distant and went away. Come out MAN! Come meet us again. Dance with us. Swing our hammers. We, the dwellers of the earth, welcome you. Tell us your tales and stay with us for a time."

With bravery that I never knew I had inside me and courage and pride upwelling within me, I stepped aside the boulder that hid me and faced the Dwarf King. His stare delved into me and searched my soul and sought my real intent. Then he simply waved his hand and the ruckus began again. This time a troupe of dwarves came and carried me off to the floor and began dancing and twirling around me and with me. Soon, I was fully engrossed in the celebration. Smiling and laughing like I had discovered that skill for the first time, I picked up a hammer and slammed it again and again at the jewel encrusted walls. The revelry lasted forever.

At last the Dwarf King approached me and again silence returned to the great chamber. Lowering his voice, he proclaimed, "You have pleased us MAN. We count you as friend of the earth, but now you should go back to the land of the owl. Tell your kind of us, but instruct them not to tread on our sacred ground callously. As a token of friendship, I offer you this treasure." He reached into his coat and pulled out a magnificent gem, ruby- red with some kind of internal glow to it.

"You, my friend, may always carry this reminder of my kind, but others will never know why you value it so because to them it will appear to be of your world." I didn't really understand what he meant by that, but I nodded my head in acceptance.

"Our feast is over; we will show you back to your world. Thank you MAN for remembering our sacred password and coming to us. My friends will lead you in parade. Go with peace."

"Thank you, my lord." I firmly replied.

I was lead quietly back through the cavern tunnel and up the stairs. Fortunately the procession was torch led this time. With a tinge of sadness, the head dwarf reached his hand to me, and we clasped arms firmly. Then I believe I heard him mutter, "The owl remains dry." Suddenly, my world opened before me. I found myself standing alone inside the great oak looking out toward my house. Firmly grasping my valuable jewel in one hand, I sprinted away from the tree and ran to my house. The bright ruby gleamed in my hand all the way back through the wood.

I burst into my house, panting, and I managed to shout to my family, "Come here! Everyone!" They all came running. My wife and my children all had perplexed looks on their faces.

"What is it? What's going on dad? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing like that. You wouldn't believe what just happened to me." I went into a very short version of the story and it became obvious that there was no way they could possibly believe this tale of mine. They thought I'd flipped a lid, lost a gourd, thrown in half the deck.

Then I thought about my gift, the magnificent ruby-red jewel. Surely that would convince them. After all, where would a guy like me get a treasure like that? I reached into my pocket and pulled out the mighty gift and beheld it for them to marvel. But they seemed unaffected by it. In fact, they seemed even more perplexed. Finally, my youngest daughter looked up at me with her darling eyes. She said, "Daddy, why do you have that rock in your hand?"

I visit the dwarf tree every now and then. Sometimes I even hear a hooting owl perched in its branches. I've never been back inside to visit my friend, the Dwarf King, but I have recounted my tale to countless hundreds of children. I still carry his gift with me wherever I go. Every time I feel the ruby-red jewel glowing in my hand, I feel more vibrant and innocent, fresh and new.