An Obsession with Joshua Trees
A Tale by Carson Thorpe
“So you want to learn of the origin of our Joshua trees do you” I muttered to the young lad tugging at my sleeve. Seems he had noticed the trees and the shrine to them that the Gaianists had made, as well as the reference to my role in the matter. Bothersome, but as much time has passed I'll try to recall the tale as best I can.
“Are you sure, youngster? It contains parts that might scare you, might make you run for cover under mama’s skirts!” He took a step back but shook his head, “I want to know! My grandma is said to be one and I want to know.”
“Right then. What's your name son?” I asked. It was a lazy fall day and the sun was setting in the west, obviously the child could pay me little, but it is a tale worth passing down regardless.
“Carlos” he said tentatively, kicking at the dirt.
“Alright … Carlos, call your little friends over, I see them hiding there next to the general store.” He dutifully did so and then, interestingly, offered up a shiny silver coin. “My mama says you are a good for nothing huckster who would never tell the truth unless paid, so here.” The coin was quite a lot of money to someone of his age. Looking at him I could tell he was Claudia Cornelo’s child. Ah Claudia, you never did quite make it onto my dance card. Was this your way of salving that particularly public rejection? No matter.
It started one day when Sheriff Buford came to ask me and my friends, Old Bob the Navaho and Ken the rifleman to investigate a disappearance. Seems some young prodigal son, Donald McClarie or some such, had been seen visiting a lady he fancied and now she, her father and others seem not to be responding to neighbor’s entreaties. He wanted us to go investigate so me, my old Navaho friend and The Rifleman - what was his name anyway, Went over to investigate the McClarie residence, the home of his bride to be, Irene Delafleur and her family.
It soon became evident that Ronald McClarie, the father of Donald, was quite dead, of very unnatural causes, as was the Elroy, the father of Jessica Delafleur and Irene was nowhere to be found, although tracks leading to and from the house seemed to indicate egress from the east and exit to the west, in a perfectly straight line, most unusual.
We back-tracked the eastern trail and discovered unsettling things. Donald has set up a bivouac and lent-to and was clearly practicing magic. Not that he was known to have known any before; we found a journal that detailed his discovery of a Grimoire and his subsequent descent into madness. We also discovered his love for Irene, unrequited quite apparently.
Following the trail to the west proved to be more difficult, however, after several fateful encounters, including one involving the most horrible crustaceans I have ever seen we managed to make our way to a cabin high up in the mountains next to a small lake. Although my Navaho friend insisted that is where the trail led and no trails led away from the region it was still quite the mystery. I had gone out to the lake that night to collect my thoughts and staring into the lake’s quite depths I realized the stars in the lake were not reflection of the stars in our skies! The lake was a gateway to another world.
Gathering up my companions, who did not like being awoken at that time I told them of my discovery and that we had to enter the lake to find the missing couple. While they were not enthused and insisted I go first they agreed to do so.
We had to fight off a rather unpleasant fish that hid in the lake but managed to make it to the Other Side, which was definitely a touch different than ours.
First off the hut was blazing on fire with females screaming for our assistance. In addition a trail seemed to lead up to the side of the canyon, something not evident in our world. I tried to put out the fire at the hut using water from the lake but it was to no avail, something kept fueling it, so we decided to head up the hill past a copse of withered trees.
The next thing we knew was that we had come under fire and shots pinged around us.
“You will never take her back; she is mine now and forever!” Donald shouted from up above us, where he stood in front of a cavern with a floating gun next to him.
We had all taken cover and every time someone moved he would pop off a few shots at them from his demonic firearm. That is when the Navaho, old Bob, said he would sneak close enough to distract him, giving us others a chance to rush him.
While Bob moved closer I began to contact the spirits there, the female spirits in the hut and lake and crafted a spell of loosening that would allow them to temporarily escape their bonds and take their revenge on the one who imprisoned them as Ken kept his eyes on Donald.
In no short order Bob had ambushed him and this gave Ken and me a chance to run into range where Ken unleashed a torrent of bullets and I unleashed my spell and drew my trusty pistol.
Assaulted from three sides Donald lashed up wounding both Bob and Ken, fortunately I escaped harm, being narrowly missed by a bullet from his unholy firearm. As both Bob and Ken took their shots I called upon the spirits to guide my aim and they must have because my bullet caught Donald right in the forehead and he slumped to the ground dead as a doornail.
Immediately the scene seemed to change. The hut ceased to burn and the withered trees we passed on the way up the trail returned to life and the beautiful young Irene emerged from the cave.
“Thank you” she said and lightly kissed my cheek “You have saved my people” she said gesturing to the grove. “You see I am a Joshua Tree Dryad. Every once in a while someone will make their way through here and the spirits will bond with them, turn into a beautiful woman and live for a while with the humans in the settlements below.”
“My mother was one such dryad and so am I, I am glad you have freed my people from the demonologist Donald.” He voice was like the sound of wind on fine silk and her hair flowed gently in the breeze, she was stunningly beautiful and I could see why Donald so desired her.
At that point she went for a time and communed with her dryads and then returned to us.
“Now is not the time for me to join my sisters. Would you be so kind to see me back to town safely?” Naturally we agreed and accompanied her back though the portal and down into Yuma.
Irene lived for quite a while among us; she stayed mostly with the Gaianists but was very popular in the city. It is said she returned back to her folk a few years ago after having had several children in the town, who I guess had had their own children as well. How long has it been anyway?
Old Bob has long since passed away and Ken was laid to rest a few years ago but I seem to be aging more gracefully than my companions. Perhaps it’s a coincidence or perhaps it is a side effect of my magics, but maybe, just maybe it’s a blessing from the Joshua tree’s kiss. Perhaps I will never know.
“There you go, Carlos, now head home to your mama, oh, and” I said as I flipped the coin back to him “buy something pretty for her on the way home, a nice scarf and tell her Carson says hello.”
I turned around and began walking the other way. I had noticed my lack of aging awhile ago, just considered myself lucky at first but now I was not so sure. Yuma had been my home for quite a while but everyone I knew there was gone now. Perhaps it was time to move on; I hear things are pretty interesting out east these days, maybe I will head there.