1
Like any other kid, Dominic dreamed with visiting Disneyland one day. He believed the ads on the TV that promised it was the happiest place on Earth, and he knew, deep down, that it would be the place where he’d be happiest in the whole wide world. His parents told him that if he was good, then they’d take him to Disneyland for his birthday, and he’d kept his end of the bargain; he’d been a good boy. He always replied to his parents with sir and ma’am and obeyed every single order they gave him. He said please and thank you and displayed the most impeccable etiquette an eight-year-old could have.
So, naturally, he felt cheated when his parents handed him a bulky present instead of a flat one containing tickets to Disneyland. He opened it, trying not to lose hope, and revealed an RC racing car. He’d really been into that sort of stuff during the last two years or so, but if he were being honest, he felt like he’d already outgrown them. He looked at his mother and father and thanked them, trying not to appear dismayed.
“We’re still going to Disneyland, though, right?” he asked, hoping for the best.
His mother gave him a strained smile. “I’m sorry, Honey, but budget is a bit tight right now, and we couldn’t afford tickets to Disneyland this year. We’ll try again next year, okay?”
No. It wasn’t okay. He’d been good because of that, and now it turned out that it had all been for nothing. “Then why did you tell me that we’d go for my birthday?” he asked indignantly.
“I know we promised,” his dad said. “And we won’t promise again unless we’re sure we can keep our promise, but you have to understand—”
“What I don’t understand is why you lied to me!” Dom spat. He climbed off his chair and walked to the door.
“Dominic, that’s no way to talk to your parents,” his mother said. “Come apologize. Now.”
“NO! You’re the ones that need to apologize!”
“We got you a present!” this time it was his parents time to look indignant. “You could at least show some gratitude, you know. We were trying to get tickets to Disn—”
“But you didn’t!” He stomped his foot like a brat throwing a tantrum (which he was). “This—this sucks!” Dom turned around and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
A small part of him told him he was being insolent and stupid. Deep down, he knew they wanted to take him to the park, but his imminent anger had blinded him to grownup reasoning, which wasn’t his strong suit either way, of course. So he ran out and into the open field behind his house. He ran and ran and ran until he was tired and had to sit down on a fallen log next to a small pond. He cried. He felt like all his dreams had gone down the drain. He couldn’t fathom why his parents had lied to him. He’d had such high expectations, and then they just crushed them, as if his feelings didn’t matter, as if—
Dom suddenly looked up. He noticed a thick, humongous tree in the middle of the field. He was sure he’d never seen it here before, and for a moment he forgot about being outraged at his parents and began feeling intrigued and curious. He stood up and walked to the tree, inching carefully forward when he was close. It looked ancient. Its leaves were gigantic and abundant, of a deep lemon green that shone with the sun and probably reflected the stars as well. The roots were broad, but had considerable space between them to fit a grown person. Dom felt drawn toward the tree, and decided to go under the tree, just through the roots. He crouched down and crawled under the tree. The soil felt cold under his palms, the shade was a welcomed change. He hadn’t been able to fully enter the tree when the ground disappeared under him and he plunged into darkness. He felt himself falling, panic swelling inside him like a hot-air balloon. Where would this underground slide take him?
Dom finally stopped falling and found himself lying on soft manicured grass. He raised his head and looked around. The tree stood tall behind him, its limbs seeming to reach for the sky. The sky itself was a beautiful forget-me-not blue. There were no clouds in the sky. Abundant leaves covered him from what sounded like a crowded street. He stood up and looked around. Hundreds of people made their way through throngs and lines and animated characters come-to-life. To his right, a pink castle stood imposing, the same one he’d seen for a year in his mind’s eye. It was here. He was hear. He rubbed his eyes and pinched his arm, hard; he couldn’t believe it.
He stayed until closing, taking his precious time to explore every corner of the park and meet all of his favorite characters. The best part was that he hadn’t had to pay. He now had his own free pass to Disneyland. After a perfect day topped off with a magical firework display, he returned to his tree. This time he didn’t fall, but crawled to the other side and emerged in the empty field into bright sunlight that dazzled and disoriented him. He ran back to his home to apologize to his parents. He burst through the door, startling them.
“Sorry for the delay,” he panted. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be, we we—wait, the delay?” his father asked. “What delay?”
“I was gone for at least six hours.”
“No, you weren’t,” his mother put in. “It’s literally just half an hour after you stormed out. You are grounded, by the way. And you won’t get to keep your present.”
“That’s okay, Ma. I’m sorry I flipped out. I understand that you weren’t able to buy tickets to Disneyland.”
His parents looked at him, trying to decide whether he was being serious or if their son had been replaced with a counterfeit. Finally, his father offered, “Thanks, Dom. But that doesn’t make it right.”
“I understand Dad, you’re right. I know, I know, I’m grounded. I’ll go to my room.”
It didn’t matter, he had an instant portal to his favorite place on Earth, and not even his parents could ruin it for him.
The tree was there the next day, and the day after and the day after. For a full three months, the tree took him to Disneyland and he always had the time of his life. After a while, though, he grew wary of going to the same place every day. When he entered the tree that day, he decided that this would be his final visit, however, this time he was thrown into hard tile instead of soft grass, and when he stood up, he noticed he was in the Museum of Natural History in New York City. That excited him, since he’d recently started finding dinosaurs more and more interesting.
Soon, he discovered that the tree wasn’t grounded to a specific place, but rather grounded in his mind to take him to wherever in the world would make him happier. Sometimes he didn’t even know where that was, he only crawled under the tree and emerged into an unexpected place that maybe he’d read about once or maybe seen in an ad. One thing was always the same, though: he always had a blast.
He continued going under the tree religiously, ducking down, crawling in and falling into another place, somehow bending the rules of space to his will—or rather, the tree’s will—, until one day seven years after his first journey into the tree, when he went to the field and found that the tree was no longer there. He searched everywhere, but it proved futile. The tree was nowhere to be found. So he let it go; he’d had a good run. He went back home and grew up.
Dominic grew to be a respected and honorable adult. Everybody thought his parents had raised him well. He studied abroad and got a Master’s Degree in law. He found a wife, Wynona, who connected with him in an almost spiritual level, and they had a son together. They named him Tyson. He loved the kid like he’d never loved anyone before, and that’s what made what happened six years later all the most devastating.
Tyson loved to explore the woods located across the street from their house. They’d always warned him to mind the road when crossing, as a car might be coming too fast to break, and an accident—God forbid—might happen. Tyson was always very mindful of the cars on the street, except for one day, when a dragonfly landed on the yard, where Tyson was lying, basking in the sun, and caught his attention. He chased it, and the dragonfly finally crossed the street into the wood. Tyson followed, but for the first time didn’t pay attention to traffic. He heard the honking a moment too late, and a second later he’d lost consciousness.
Dom heard the honks and the crash and dashed out of the house. He found his son sprawled on the opposite culvert, his eyes closed, his head cracked open and bleeding, his body a bloody mess. Grief rose in him like hot gas, engulfing him and grasping him like a lover, promising to never let go. Wynona joined him half a minute later, already crying.
Dom found the tree again the day after the death of his son. It was in the middle of his backyard, just standing there, as if waiting for an old friend. He hadn’t thought much about it ever since it had disappeared from the open field behind his childhood home. Dom approached the tree. He supposed he could use a break, so he crouched down and went in.
He fell again, and this time he felt cool wooden boards under his cheek. He stood up and found he was inside a closet—his closet. He was in his house, the same house that was literally twenty feet away from the tree he had entered to escape it. He opened the closet door and emerged into the living room. He regarded it sadly, and was about to leave when a picture caught his attention. It was the one on the mantelpiece. They took a different picture every year and changed it. The current one should have been the one where Tyson was showcasing a toothless smile and sporting a turquoise shirt, but on this one he was frowning and wearing a purple tee. He hadn’t wanted to take a picture that day, but they did it anyway. That had been three years ago, that couldn’t—
That was when he heard his son giggling in the dining room. He went in and found Wynona feeding Tyson mashed potatoes, telling him a funny story so he would eat them all. He stood in the doorway, taking them in.
Then Tyson noticed him and yelled, “Daddy!”
Wynona turned and saw him. “Come,” she told him. “He’s been asking for you all morning.” She kissed him.
“You have?” Dom asked Tyson. “Come here!” He grabbed the kid from his chair and flung him into the air. Tyson giggled with pleasure.
Dom felt genuine and pure happiness bubble inside of him. He couldn’t believe he had his son back. He’d never let him go away. This was his second chance; he was going to outsmart the tree. He stayed there and didn’t go back into the closet. He went to sleep being a happy father again.
The next day, he descended the stairs into the living room to check the newspaper when he caught a glimpse of the mantelpiece picture again. A toothless smile and turquoise shirt greeted him.
No, he thought. No, no, no, this isn’t happening. He went to his son’s empty room and found the bed made, just like he’d left it the day he died. The toys were recent, not the ones he’d like to play with at three. Dom sunk into his knees and began to cry. Why? He’d been so close. If he’d been actually able to see his son again, why couldn’t he just stay there? It would be easier, and, oh, so much less painful. Then he remembered the tree, and went to the backyard to find it empty, like before. No sign of a tree ever being there.
“Are you mocking me? Why are you doing this? Are you laughing at my pain?” he yelled at nothing in particular. His voice broke. “All I want is my son. Is that so much? Why are you doing this?” Wynona joined him and embraced him a minute later, but he shrugged her off. “I need to be alone,” he muttered, and she left him there, crying his heart out and lamenting his misery.
Dom sank into utter depression that day, like a heavy acquaintance who plops into your house unannounced and makes it their home as well. You are still welcomed, but under their conditions. He ate little and did even less. He sat in the couch all day, watching game shows during the day and late night talk shows at night. He didn’t talk to Wynona at all anymore. His mindpower was spent in thinking about his son and what could have been, and feeling miserable. He felt hopeless and weak, a simple pawn of an uncaring universe who had taken what he loved the most in the world.
The tree appeared again, and for the last time, six months later. Dom was still engulfed by the clutches of deep depression. He was sitting in the couch and happened to glance out of the window. The tree was there again. He was going to ignore it, but finally decided to go in, at least this one time. Maybe it’d show him his son one last time.
He approached it, then crouched and crawled in. This time he felt himself fall, but he never landed anywhere. When he finally opened his eyes, wondering what had happened, he found himself staring into deep darkness, like in the inside of a basement or a bunker. He couldn’t see anything, not even his hand. His feet weren’t touching the ground; he was floating.
Where am I? he thought to himself. Are you trying to play me again? If so, then be quick.
Then, a light came from above. It looked at a blue sky. Then he saw the faraway faces of his parents and Wynona. They were dressed completely in black. Just as soon as they came into focused, they were obscured by dirt falling on top of the small window that had appeared above him. And then he understood.
Death? But I don’t want to— then he remembered all those times when the tree had taken him to places he hadn’t even known he’d wanted to visit, and it all made sense. He hadn’t thought about it explicitly yet, but he was suicidal. He’d let his sickness consume him to this point, and if he didn’t do something about it quickly, it would kill him. I need to talk to someone. I have to talk to Wynona. She’s going through the same as me. She’ll understand. I have to get out of here.
As if on cue, a spotlight appeared to his left, illuminating the tree. He floated over to it and entered it under the roots. He emerged promptly into his backyard and stood up, rushing to his house. He turned back at the door, wanting to see the tree again, but it was now gone.
“I’m sorry about everything. It’s been a hard couple of months for me. I know it’s been tough for you as well, but I cocooned myself inside my grief and didn’t let you in. I—I need help.” Dom sobbed.
Wynona sat on the couch and extended her arms, and he let himself go to her. “It’s been a difficult time for me, too. But we shouldn’t go it alone.” Her eyes welled with tears. Dom let himself be held and held her in turn. It felt good. He knew he still had a long way to go. He probably needed psychological help and counseling, but for now this was enough. Baby steps, like so many people said about so many things. And for now, this was okay.
Pd: Please, if you're struggling, reach out to someone who can help. Reach out to your local suicide prevention hotline (you can find it here: https://suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html )
