As I stare out the window of my second-floor office, I’m troubled at the sight of the trees across the parking lot. Since my arrival this morning, I’ve had trouble concentrating. My attention keeps getting drawn away from my work.
It’s too early in the year for leaves to fall to the ground. The morning rain seems to coat those barren branches.
The rain has ended. No rainbow exists. Clouds darken the sky.
Five geese fly out of the grove. Then, for no apparent reason, they fly back.
A haunting coldness comes through the glass. It passes through my clothes and into my skin and surrounds my bones.
My computer dinks with the monthly sales report. Sales are light. The warehouse below us is overflowing with fireworks. It will be another three months before we get any major orders.
I must wait another four hours before I can leave my office and take the uneventful journey home. In the meantime, those trees draw my attention away from my work.
I want to grasp what those trees are trying to tell me.
A tap on my shoulder pulls me back into my office. A coworker says, “The boss wants to see you in his office.”
I begin the walk to the boss’s office with apprehension.
Being so overtaken by the trees, I get only a couple of steps before I remember company policy. I stop and go back. There I press the Windows key and the ‘L’ key, locking my computer. Now I continue my trek to see what the boss wants.
His door is ajar enough for me to see him standing, looking out the window. He stares at the same naked trees. I knock on the door frame. He waves me in, without turning around.
“Did you want to see me?” I ask.
“That grove of naked trees seems unusually haunting today.” He says.
I nod without saying a word.
“Do you know what they are trying to say?”
“No, I don’t.”
“They must know what I am about to tell you.” The boss turns around and sits behind his desk. He motions me to sit in the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
I brace myself and take a deep breath. I fear what the boss will tell me. He usually cracks a joke before I can sit down.
“Sales have been slow. I am forced to cut staff. I don’t want to lay anyone off.”
“He is going to lay me off.” I think to myself.
“Before I begin laying anyone off, I am going to cut hours and hopefully sales will pick up soon. Unfortunately, you’re the first one whose hours I am going to have to cut.”
“How many hours of mine are you going to cut?”
“This is temporary. Take the rest of the day off and tomorrow. By then, I will have a new schedule for you and the other sales staff.”
I let out a sigh. My muscles relax. I thought he was going to lay me off. I head back to my desk, where I just grab my water bottle and head down to the parking lot.
It feels so surreal, the walk from my office to my car. I could not shake the feeling that something unusual is about to happen. I back out of my space; put the car in drive.
Pulling out onto the street, I turn right into traffic. Two blocks later, I feel a rush of air and glass fragments on the back of my neck. In my rearview mirror, I see smoke and pieces of my work building flying in the air.
For the rest of that day and in the weeks that followed, I continued to wonder if the naked trees were attempting to communicate something about the impending explosion to my boss and me. Did my boss send me home early to spare my life?
A year has passed since that dreadful day. I believe those trees sensed or saw something about the impending explosion. If I had not been worried about my job, I would have heard their voices, prevented the explosion and saved lives?
The official report stated the explosion resulted because of unsafe practices in the warehouse. Rumors suggested the owner lit some fireworks to cause the explosion so he could collect insurance because he couldn’t pay the bills.
I believe those trees knew what was going to happen and tried to warn us. I should have spent more time listening to the trees.
