Story: The Tree of the Empty Lot

     The sun was bright and hot as Eve dug the grave for her precious dog, Adam. A deep pit in the backyard swallowed him up and over the grave she planted the small seedling she had picked out especially for this occasion. It was the fresh beginning of a new summer and the blazing sun beat down on the little tree. Her only memento of her best friend, she watered it tenaciously until it had grown into a thing of beauty – a sturdy tree that bore sweet apples, a tribute to her lost pup.

     But she was young and restless, and after a few years she moved from that place. The little tree had grown strong alongside her and now it stood strong for her, weathering the harsh sunlight rooted in the dry, cracking earth, standing tall and proud for Eve's friend, Adam. No new owner moved to the house and there the tree stood, tall and alone, as weeds grew and trash collected in the yard. The sun shone hot for many summers and the rain refused to fall and the tree sagged under the oppression. The leaves yellowed and the roots ached for nourishment but Adam's tree never wavered, always producing fresh apples and shading the grave of its ward. For years it stood sturdy as Adam's body returned to the earth until it was the only physical monument to testify to his existence.

     In time, a group of children, still learning their times-tables, saw the glistening apples hanging from its branches and approached. Pulling down the sweet, red fruit, the three boys noticed how the branches hung desolately in the sun and agreed among themselves to bring it water. Gathering three buckets which sat long abandoned in the yard, they trekked to their own houses, each filling their pail with cool, clean water.

     In the trek, the first child found a cat, also suffering from the summer heat. Forgetting the tree, he stopped and tipped the bucket so the cat could drink. Forgetting the weight of the bucket, he accidentally tipped it over and, although the cat drank plentifully from what spilled to the ground, there was none left for the tree. The second child walked further and, about halfway to the house, he found a bush in dire need of water. Being kindhearted, he stopped and dumped his bucket out for the bush, and so the bush drank but the tree went thirsty. The third child, in all his strength, carried his bucket the farthest but, when he had gotten to the edge of the property, he saw a man, destitute and thirsty, peeking just out from the corner of the window inside the house. Although no one should be living there for the house was unowned, this man had hidden there from the sun as he had no home of his own. Being gentle and sweet, the child brought his bucket over to the house and left it beside the door. Tentatively, the man opened the door and took the bucket inside, drinking generously of the water for he had none of his own. The water had long since been cut off from this abandoned house.

     Forgetting Adam's tree but having done three good deeds, each child was satisfied with himself and left. Adam’s tree remained, thirsty and slowly withering, yet resolute to the end beneath the evening sky. The man in the house, having watched the boys and their efforts, saw the tree and its shining apples. Pitying it, he stepped outside and, with the last of the water remaining in the bucket, dumped it at the base of the tree. It was a sprinkling, only, but the tree, determined to forever protect the grave over which it stood, gratefully absorbed what it could and survived. In its due course, the harsh summer ended and cool autumn finally blessed the tree with much needed rain, bringing it back to life.

     Eventually, another family moved into the house and, seeing the apples, marveled at the beauty of the tenacious tree and took great care of it although they had no knowledge of its purpose. They pruned the weeds from its base and cleaned the garbage from around its roots and daily watered it when none fell from the sky. The tree grew stronger, and its branches blossomed and its apples grew sweeter than ever. Its leaves were broad and green and soft apple blossom petals adorned Adam's grave, now hidden beneath the lush green grass below the tree.

     One spring, when the tree was at its most beautiful and the blossoms rained down upon the yard like soft pink snow, the sky fell dark. The winds picked up and the clouds crowded among themselves and a tornado touched down upon the neighborhood. Swirling and angry, it lifted the tree from its roots and flipped it onto its side in the yard. When the funnel had fled and the skies cleared, the family emerged from their shelter to see the destruction. Having nothing more to give to the tree that had once stood over Adam’s grave, they cut it down and the planks they made into a house for their new dog.

     Adam's grave now stands bare, forgotten among the grass in the yard. His successor, Chris, stands watch over the family, guarding his house and the lot from all threats to come.

(image of an apple tree, standing alone)

Author's note: This story was massively rewritten from the original. I wanted to translate the story of Lot and the Tree of Adam into a suburban setting that seemed ordinary next its ancient sacred source material. In the story, the tree is planted over the grave of the ancestral Adam, and Lot has to water the tree to atone for his sins. At every turn he finds that he is thwarted in this endeavor by the devil who keeps drinking his water in the guise of a poor peasant. Because he failed his task out of kindness to thirsty strangers, angels ended up watering the tree and Lot was forgiven. Later, the tree is cut down and used to make the cross that Jesus died on. In my story, I replaced Lot with the three children who lived in the neighborhood. They weren’t atoning for anything. They just wanted to do a good deed. Because they’re children, however, they weren’t exactly super resolute in their duty and forgot that they were supposed to water the tree. The homeless man stands in for the angels when he sees that the water was meant for the tree and gives it his last bit from the bucket.

Lot and the Tree of the Cross by J. E. Hanauer