"An Accidental Meeting of Worlds" by Matthew T. Summers

It’s odd that the loudest sound I’ve ever heard is that of the drip, drip, drip of my lifeblood ebbing away.  It wasn’t always that way, of course…

It was supposed to be just a nice, quiet country drive, something nice and mindless to clear my head.  The wife and I had been fighting, yet another fight over something as stupid as money.  Money.  God Almighty, I’d trade all the money in the world to not be wrapped around this tree right now… I… I’m going to miss her.  

I love her.  Lord, please watch over her, I pray… it occurs to me that I’m not going to get to see my daughter’s violin recital in a few months, nor am I going to get to see my two sons graduate college.  I won’t get to watch any of em fall in love, get married, and have multiple grandchildren for me to spoil rotten, fill up with sugar and ship em home as the ultimate parental revenge.

I won’t get to watch my Maria grow old… I won’t be there with her, holding her hand and watching the sun set on that Hawaiian vacation I’d always promised her, but could never afford.  There won’t be the making up from this fight, the warm caresses in the middle of the night, that adorable shriek she makes when a spider dares to enter our threshold…

… I would cry, but that damnable drip, drip, drip of my lifeblood onto the car seat is taking all the energy from me.

I hear movement, something only slightly louder than my blood dripping away.  It takes every ounce of strength I have to tear my eyes away from the slow stream of… well, me… leaking away.  

This has to be a hallucination.  I truly am dying now, I know it.  Two small creatures have emerged from the tree that I slammed into and are looking around in shock.  Admittedly, if they’re real, I just wrapped my car into their home going about sixty-five miles an hour… they’re probably quite shaken up as well.

Oh look, they’ve noticed the blood pooling near their tree, and by process of elimination, noticed me as well.  Oddly enough, they show no fear as they gaze up at my eyes; perhaps it’s because they can tell I’m dying.  Lord knows, I certainly can’t LOOK like I’m in my top shape, what with this oak branch stuck through my chest cavity and all.

They started to talk to each other, a really odd, high-pitched chirping.  Kinda reminds me of sparrows, like the ones that flit around near the birdfeeder my daughter made in class last year.  I’m able to understand the sparrows about as much as I can these two things before me, mind you.  

Apparently a decision was made, because they both nodded and turned back to me.  Oh how cute… They’re doing some sort of Harry Potter thing, weaving their hands about and muttering words… Heh.  If I believed in magic, I’d think they’re trying some sort of…

… That… that’s a pretty bright light…

I screamed as pain shot through me, pain like nothing I’ve ever felt before.  Oddly enough, the pain from the car wreck still hadn’t registered to my mind.  Shock, I suppose.  But light flared out from the hands of these… creatures… and filled my body, and pain unimaginable struck me from head to toe.  

I continued to scream as inch by inch, the car and, by association, my body was moved away from the tree.  The oak limb that had thrust itself deep into my chest crept inexorably backwards, ripping already savagely-damaged muscle and tissues as it went.  Tears sprang from my eyes, unbidden and uncontrollable, as I could feel my skin being first ripped asunder, then forcibly fused back together again by the creatures’ magic.

 Mercifully, it was at that point that I passed out, even as I vaguely recognized red and blue flashing lights off in the distance.  When I came back to reality, it took me quite a while to recognize the fact that I was in a hospital, with my wife and kids at my side.

* * *

That was years ago, but the memory of it is still as clear to me as my own reflection in the mirror.  The next few months, of course, were a blur.  They told me that it was a miracle that I survived, that the car had somehow just missed hitting the tree dead-on, and that slight deflection was enough to not kill me outright.  

I know better, of course.  But who would believe me?

Maria and I never again fought over money.  Between the months upon years of rehabilitation before I could walk again, the sheer insane cost of the hospital stay, and pills upon pills for pain and infection during my recovery, money just wasn’t an issue anymore.  It was simple, we never had any of it anymore, so why argue over such a moot point?  

Our relationship improved to the point where we were the envy of all of our friends.  During every spasm, during every painful step along my rehabilitation, during the screaming fits I’d have at night during the nightmares… she was there by my side, holding my hand and telling me that it would all be alright.  

I kiss her every morning when we wake, and every night before we go to bed.  I have not even remotely come close to overusing the words, “I love you,” at least to my ears yet.  

My kids, though they’ve flown the coop, still keep in touch almost daily.  Katie, our youngest, just had our first grandchild, a pretty little thing that she is going to bring visiting once her husband has more time off built up.  Ethan joined the Marines, the last news I got from him was that he was going on a deployment somewhere, and would bring us back something from wherever that was.  We’ll be seeing Freddie here in the next few weeks, he’s just finished up his doctorate and is coming home to finally marry his high school sweetheart.  

Life’s funny, I suppose… but I don’t have to tell you this, now do I?  I don’t know if you’re still in this tree, here at the scene of the accident; that horrible, that blessed accident that finally forced me to turn my life around.

I’ve told only Maria about what I saw, so you know.  She’s certain that it was nothing more than a drug-induced hallucination, or perhaps my imagination playing tricks on me as I was lying here, dying.  

But I know better.  And I still cannot thank you enough.  I know you’re not going to come out of your tree, not while I’m standing here and certainly not with those strange people putting those fences up around this forest.  But I wanted to reassure you that those people are here to help me protect you.

You see, ironically enough, once all the medical bills were paid, I was able to return financial stability to my family.  And now, well, we’re quite well off, and I have enough money left over from some well-timed investments that I was able to purchase this large plot of forest that was slated for demolition.  

Rest assured, my friends, your forest isn’t going to go anywhere.  No supermarket, no large retail chain or car dealership is going to take away this section of forest.  The purchase is complete, the fences are going up, and I’m going to set it in my will that this forest remain pristine for as long as my estate has the funds to keep it up.

I thank you for my gift, my little friends… and I hope you enjoy yours as well.  Sleep well as civilization rises around you, and know that this is only a small part me thanking you.  I can never repay you enough for changing my life as you did… saving your home is the least I can do.

Sleep well, my friends… sleep well.