The Moiety of My Halcyon Days

The price of chasing ones' dreams can be very high, as the man who lost everything due to his supernatural fascination would be willing to testify. And yet, maybe there is something in the dark...

Do you ever stare into the night while hoping something interesting might happen? By interesting I don’t mean anything morbid like robbery, murder, rape or other such urban criminalities. What I am hoping for is something of a different kind; something of the impossible kind, rather. I’m not too picky though. Vampires, werewolves, psychics, fairies, unicorns, doppelgangers, demons, angels, aliens, selkies, ghosts and anything along those lines would be perfectly acceptable to me. So tell me, how come the darkness conceals none of those creatures again tonight? With all the biological diversity on this planet, and all of the seemingly incomprehensible phenomena, is it really possible that there is nothing truly extraordinary? When we can’t say why something happens, is it then simply because we don’t have the science to explain it yet? I’m sure 9 out of 10 people would tell me that, but I’m still stubbornly determined to discover something unusual. As you might have suspected already, that is the reason why I’m sitting on a cold deteriorated bench in the middle of the night. The clock beside me pointed its merciless rusty hands at 4, which meant the witching hours had passed without anything happening, and thus I had no reason to stay there any longer. A middle-aged man with a boxer puppy walked past me while staring suspiciously at me. I probably would have stared too, but with an ugly dog like that he had no reason to be afraid. I prefer fluffy ones, so I would never attempt to kidnap a boxer, unless I wanted a black eye I suppose. I wondered idly whether it was named anything ominous like ‘Tyson’ or ‘Ali’ " or perhaps something ridiculous like ‘kitty’ or ‘furball’. I would probably have gone for the latter if I had been forced to name a boxer, but who would force such a tiresome task upon me anyhow? I suppose it was a moot point. Let’s quickly continue on with my story before I lose any more readers.

At 4.15 I finally gave up and walked home. The night was neither particularly cold nor warm, it was average, like everything else in this world apparently. Some leaves got caught in the wind and led away into the small park lake, where they would probably be unable to ever escape again. They would decompose and become nothing but waste, just like the rest of us would one day. I thought the wind was the culprit again when a gooseberry bush moved suspiciously a moment later, but I felt no breeze. There I stood in the middle of the night, entirely alone in the park. It would have been rather cliché if a cat or rabbit jumped out, and if it had been a rabbit, then I would have liked a white one with a monocle, top hat, antique pocket watch and a ticket to Wonderland. Otherwise, I would have preferred an elf, a bakeneko or a true Halcyon, but after a minute of suspense my hopes were entirely disappointed when a small hedgehog lazily showed itself. If you think I would be crazy for scolding it, then please do not think I did such a nonsensical thing, otherwise, that’s exactly what I did do. Afterwards, I returned safely home without any further incidents, which I thought was rather unfortunate, but you may consider it a good thing if you’d like.

I woke up many hours later, when the doorbell rang. I didn’t have time to hope that the wizards had finally realized my huge magical potential, so instead I just sprinted to the door and managed to open it just as the postman was walking away. His stare was hostile and rather belittling as he turned to face me, I suppose he might have been thinking I was unemployed and had nothing to do except sleep all day… This was of course not the case.

“Here,” he handed me a heavy regular-looking parcel, “sign this.”  I did as told, and as I mumbled the usual “Have a nice day!” He was already halfway down the driveway. What’s wrong with young people these days? They have no manners! I grumbled as I went back inside. Whether or not I myself am one of those relatively rude relatively young people, I’ll leave entirely up to your imagination. I put down the parcel in the middle of the kitchen. If it was a dragon egg that happened to hatch just as I opened it, then I would probably need some water to extinguish any potential fires, as dragons always have fire breath, and preferably I would have to manage to extinguish the fire before the smoke alarm caught notice of it and went off. It would definitely be an awkward situation to explain if firefighters came and discovered a baby dragon in my house. The label, however, announced that the parcel was simply from the international book store that I usually ordered various books from, and thus I conceded all hopes of dragon eggs. I shoved the parcel aside, no longer interested in its contents and went back to my longing bed. I’m not sure it had missed me like I had missed it, but either way I embraced it once again and let the afternoon seep away slowly.

 

The beautiful face was framed by the most exquisite golden blonde hair I had ever witnessed. If anyone in this world was likely to be a descended goddess, then I always thought it would be her. However, beautiful as she was, unfortunately she was not more divine than any other mortal person. She might have been confused for Hercules’ long lost half-blood sister, but she really had no extraordinary powers. Her talents were nothing but mediocre. She loved to paint, but no galleries ever wanted to exhibit her work. She loved to bake, but she failed second year as a pâtissière. She loved to write, but she could never get past five pages no matter what she wrote. Calling her Jack of all Trades would have been rather offensive, since she was obviously stunningly feminine, so instead I shall call her Jane of all Trades, but you should know what I mean. That day her stunning face was clouded by concern and frustration though. The bell-like voice breathed out the words she had been holding back.

“Don’t you love me?” I thought I could distinguish gatherings of salty water in her crystal clear amber eyes, but I didn’t dare to step closer to verify. I turned away from her, facing the bookcase instead of her blinding beauty. I guess my time was up. I knew I couldn’t lie to her, and if I was honest, then I could not say that I didn’t love her. I saw the life I could have with her clearly every time I lost sense of my dreams. She would move in with me. We would buy two Siamese cats and name them Ese and Mias, because we both liked that kind of lame anagrams. We would raise two lively children together, a boy and a girl of course. I wouldn’t allow myself to imagine the names, as then it would be too difficult to let go of the delusion. As I desperately begged the book titles to rescue me, her fragile voice became furious.

“That’s right, I forgot you only have interest in anything that does not exist. Well I’m sorry I’m not a mermaid or valkyrie, but I still care about you. If that’s not enough then-“ She forced out the words like throwing knives until I interrupted her. It was no good to let her finish the speech, I knew where it was going, and I knew it could break my resolve any moment.

“It’s not enough” I solemnly replied and left the room without glancing back at her. All this aside, did you know that if you died in battle, according to Norse Mythology either the valkyries would take you to Valhalla where you’d have to party away while preparing for the impending doom, or you’d end up in the army belonging to the goddess of love and beauty. I think I would be satisfied with either option, but in any case, Rose was not a valkyrie either, as she herself clearly stated, so that did not really signify.

 

After the word ‘signify’ I always wake up. It is always the same dream that haunts me. I would like to think that it is just an insignificant subconscious derangement, since normalcy is nothing but an illness after all. In spite of that I could never shake the feeling that I had acted wrongly. It was several years ago that it had happened, I wasn’t sure exactly how many. Time always feels longer when you lament the outcome, but even I still hadn’t determined what exactly I would have done to change the outcome. It was certain that she was ordinary in spite of her beauty, and that she was long gone.

That night in the park I decided to give reverse psychology a chance, since the world is usually pretty reliable when it comes to doing things you do not wish for, so I thought it might work out like that. Thus I did not want any supernatural beings to appear that night.

I must admit that the whole act had started to feel pointless recently. The moiety of my halcyon days must already have been spent. Potentially having nothing but one half left of it felt as if I had nothing left at all. How many days of my finite life could I afford to spend in this manner? It had already been six months since I resigned my job, and although my house was not anything fancy and I was satisfied with eating instant noodles six out of seven days, I knew I would run out of money eventually. The dream of the life with Rose, which I had discarded as a delusion, was perhaps more valuable than the option of chasing these supernatural delusions, which I had chosen.

 

I hadn’t noticed anyone approaching, so I was surprised when a young girl came and sat beside me on the bench, without even greeting me beforehand. Her hair was short, hazel and pixie-like, and she might actually have passed for a human-sized fairy if she had had wings. Her emerald eyes stood out like flames on a frozen lake. I was surprised to find that she had no dog with her. Are prostitutes really this young nowadays? It’s a disgraceful for mankind if the average girl-next-door at thirteen or fourteen goes out at night to prey on older men. However, I had no time for further musings, as the girl started to explain on her own.

“I’m a tree nymph.” She announced it with a big smile and sparkling eyes. Wait, that wasn’t even an explanation, just a claim. Does she expect me to believe in just about anything? Perhaps Rose had always been right, I would only believe and have interest in anything that did not exist. If she actually was a tree nymph I might just get bored and walk away, wouldn’t I? Well either way, I decided it would be most appropriate to respond.

“There’s no way a tree nymph would openly declare that.” She chuckled at my skeptic response.

“I suppose you’re right. Well then, I am just a regular person passing by. I will listen to your sorrows if you’d like.” She was unusually cheerful considering the fact that she was talking to a random stranger, twice her age and of the opposite sex, while sitting on a bench in an empty park just past 1am. I wanted to tell her to go home to her parents, but instead of shaking my head and declining her offer I somehow felt like telling my story to a complete stranger, who also happened to be a regular teenage girl who claimed to be a tree nymph. If she could claim such a thing at thirteen or fourteen, then she might end up stuck hopelessly chasing the supernatural, just like I had been these past many years.

 

I told her my story. I told her about my supernatural dreams, the life with Rose I had declined, and the last year of the downwards spiral. She kept a gentle smile on her face, and listened silently without interrupting throughout most of the story, only when I said that I was sure the moiety of my halcyon days were over did she object.

“They haven’t even begun!” She got up from the bench and spun around herself a few times, before stopping and looking down on me again. “Would you like to change?” It was hard to answer that question honestly. I would like to change the world so it became more interesting, but that was probably not what she was asking about. She was asking me whether I would like to be different. Could I be different? Could I stop chasing the impossible things? Either way it would probably be too late. What’s the point in changing after I let her go? The girl, whose name I still hadn’t been told of, seemed to notice my hesitation.

“Did you know that there’s a wish tree in this park?” I shook my head, too busy debating with myself to utter a proper reply.

“It’s the willow tree on the small island in the lake. The lake was created by humans, so it has probably been a long time since anyone even thought of visiting the tree. I’m sure it has been lonely all this time.” Her face was sorrowful, almost as if she felt the tree’s pain. No, tree nymphs do not exist.

“Are you saying I should swim out to the tree and make a wish?” If it was an attempt at a prank, then she surely was taking it too far. Hasn’t she learnt that young people are supposed to respect their elders, not mock their long lost dreams? But as I gazed into her eyes I felt nothing but sincerity. So I asked the most ridiculous question I could probably have asked during such a situation.

“Do I need to bring an offering or a piece of paper with my wish, or something along those lines?”

“You can if you’d like, but it is not required. Taking a swim at this time of the year, dedicated to visiting the tree, is a large enough sacrifice to have your wish fulfilled.” I turned away from her for a moment to reorganize my thoughts, but when I looked back a few minutes later she was gone. It was entirely possible that she had merely walked away when she thought I didn’t take the bait, but I hadn’t heard any footsteps at all, in spite of the road being a dry gravel path.

 

As I stood in front of the dark lake I really didn’t feel like taking a swim. I could weakly discern the tree out on the island, and it couldn’t be more than a good ten meters of swimming, but the dark water wasn’t exactly appealing. And what exactly was I going to wish for anyway? Vampires would probably be a bad idea. I probably wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of knowing that my wish caused a spike in the murder rate of a quiet suburban town like this. Werewolves were excluded for similar reasons. Biting people just isn’t very appropriate. I went through the rest of my supernatural list in a similar manner, debating the pros and cons of each creature. In the end, the wish that I held dearest to my heart was excruciatingly clear. I didn’t really have a choice. I dove into the water, without bothering to get undressed first. The scene was a bit too dramatic perhaps, I hadn’t needed to dive it, walking would have done the job as well. I pushed water lilies aside as I swam, and kicked every underwater fern, seaweeds and other plants that tried to enslave me, before I made it to the small muddy island. I climbed through the reeds and finally managed to touch the bark of the tree.

“So you’re a wish tree, huh?” I asked out loud, feeling a bit stupid, but on the other hand, I had already gone this far, so it was too late to turn back. As expected, the tree wasn’t particularly talkative, so I went on and told it my wish. I wasn’t sure whether I was expecting something or nothing, but I surely hadn’t predicted what actually did happen. As I stood there dumbfounded in the dark, I collapsed without a warning.

 

I woke up in a white room, which I could quickly conclude was a hospital room.

“Daddy! You’re finally awake!” A small girl cried of joy as I turned my face around to face her. Next to her sat Rose, beautiful as always, but less composed than she usually was " but this time it was tears of happiness, not of fury or sadness.

“Honey? Do you remember anything?”

“What day is it?” She told me the date. It was the morning on the day after I had swam and made my wish to the tree. Needless to say, the current situation did not fit very well with my memories.

“That really was a wishing tree.” I mumbled out loud. Rose’s face turned puzzled and concerned. Later she explained that I had been in a car crash and nearly died, but that I would make a full recovery. I knew exactly how to interpret that. My wish had been granted.

 

Dear wish tree. I don’t know if you really have any special powers, but if you do… Please give me the life I should have lived. I’ve been an idiot, I’ve let go of the most important thing in the world just to chase something nonexistent. Well I suppose my wish won’t work if you are nonexistent, but please, I’ll do anything, just give me back the things I was too stupid to realize I needed.

 

I made a mental note to go visit the wish tree again, though on a summer day next time, and to remember to bring some kind of offering. If anyone knows what kind of offerings the tree nymphs prefer, then please do let me know before next summer, because I am seriously in her debt.

 

Author's Note

It is an old short story I wrote about 4 years ago, but I hope you like it nevertheless, please enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated :-)