Seeing the Forest For the Trees

The city glowed before her eyes as it always did: never any pure darkness, never any complete ease. Of course, stars were something people mostly only read about; it was impossible to ever really glance at any true stars in the thrall of technology that loomed all around her.

Her name was Dawnika Fi391: Dawnika given to her by her family, Fi391 assigned to them for the last few generations. Of course her younger descendants had started with only F, and she distinctly was only Fi391, her brother Fi390, and her mother Fi329. She went by Awni, and she had just turned 26. She worked as a hair designer from her single unit, placed nearby to her parents, and her brother only a bit further from them. It was work that she enjoyed doing, but as it was only virtual and inconsistent in terms of finance, she had a second job at a very popular coffee shop nearby “the garden”.

The garden was a slightly desolate place near the center of the city, where the only plant life was housed for the top few miles. She imagined that a portion of the ground below had simply been dug up and placed amongst them, so that they could enjoy the tiniest bit of real vegetation. People didn’t go near the garden mostly, they only drove by and appreciated the glances they could spare for it. No one honestly knew if they were allowed to enjoy the garden, or if it was only for viewing. Regardless, it stayed to itself and thrived, and people stayed away from it and… survived, she supposed. She was lucky she was able to see it as frequently as she was.

Mostly Awni read, worked, and read a little bit, made sketches for new hair pieces to be sold online, and read some more. She wondered what kinds of plants and flowers flourished on the ground below them, and if the wealthiest members of society that lived nearest them, even noticed them. She loved to read about different time periods, and what life was like for the people of the past. Her world was nothing but electricity and technology, people and computers, work and more work. She kept a little black book in which she wrote all her dreams and thoughts, things that she wanted to research later. It was almost full at this point of her scribbling and crazy desires.

Awni paused in the middle of her work at the coffee shop, knowing that they were backed up enough that she had a moment to spare while the computers caught up making the beverages. She pulled the little black book from her back pocket and quickly wrote her current question: research laws pertaining to the garden. She knew she could simply record things like this into her watch that was linked up to her life, but she craved the simplicity of holding books and writing things by her own hand. She glanced at the gardens once more and got back to work.

It was nearly six in the evening when Awni’s shift ended. She stood outside gazing at the garden, feeling life press in all around her; people and noise from every direction. She looked up at the sky, a rainbow of sunset cascading around her and night lights already beginning to consume.

She looked at the garden again, it’s small oasis of trees and shrubs and small flowers that she assumed didn’t need much upkeep. I’m gonna do it, she thought to herself. It was something she had wanted to do for so many years now. She took a step forward, and then another; before she knew it she was walking, almost robotically, toward the garden. Cars sped overhead and below her feet; she wondered if anyone noticed her at all.

As she neared the garden, her heart pounded in her chest. With a quick dash she was over the glass gate and inside the garden. It was getting dark more quickly now, but the city lights allowed her to still see the beauty that surrounded her. The trees stood majestically all around, the flowers swayed in the breeze; she wanted to know their names, know everything about them.

She walked further into the garden and found a bench. If people are not allowed in, why have a bench? The thought fleeted through her head. She sat down and revelled in the perfume that wafted around, taking deep breaths each time and feeling all of her stress fall away. She could not get over how differently the air felt.

The last of twilight was fading before her eyes, and her anxiety reminded her that she could not stay here much longer. There was only one thing she wanted to do before she left: she wanted to dig in the dirt. Awni knew it was a silly thing to want, but she craved the feeling of real earth in her hands, hoping desperately that it was real earth here in this garden.

She walked over to the area where there was most coverage from the cars overhead, and used her watch to light the ground. After a moment she found the perfect spot, not very near to anything else, and no rocks that she could visibly see. Slowly she crouched down and sat her watch nearby, it’s light gently reaching the ground where her hands rested now. It was cold and crunchy to feel, just as she’d imagined.

She could hesitate no longer and pressed her fingertips down, determined to break the dirt loose. She pressed as hard as she could, her fingernails becoming a bit sore as she finally felt some resistant give. She plunged her hands as far as she could into the dirt, crumbling it as she went to soften it all. She could hardly imagine something else as exhilarating as this. Her heart raced and she grinned like a mad school girl. She looked around quickly, and although her world never stopped moving and exchanging, she had never felt more alone or at peace than where she was now.

Suddenly, she stopped digging. Her hands had nudged something firm and even colder than the soil. Awni brushed her hands off and grabbed her watch for better lighting, able to see the metal corner something. Carefully she continued to dig around the corner; taking only a moment more to free the container from its earthy confines.

She couldn’t believe what she had found. It was an old metal box with a flowery pattern covering the front. Quickly, and with some difficulty, she pried the lid open and peered inside. She could only see a bundle of old papers: something uncommon indeed. Her heart was racing unsteadily, and now she felt as if she’d stayed in the garden for too long. In a rush, she pushed all the dirt she could back into its place and secured the box into her satchel. With one glance more, she made her way over the gate and to her home.

Once safely inside, she pulled the box out and opened it, more excited than she'd ever been before. From within it she very carefully pulled out a large bundle of, what seemed to be, paper money. Awni had barely experienced paper in her life, let alone currency that wasn’t virtual.

Beneath the money was a photo of a couple, its edges frayed and worn. The pair sat on the steps of a wooden porch, bundled in each other’s embrace. On the back of the photo were the names: “Vera and Willeford Conkren,” and the year 1981. Hardly able to pull her eyes from the photo, she pinned it to her dresser mirror and pulled the last item from the box. Wedged beneath the money and the photo, was a little black book, just like the one Awni kept.

Quickly she became comfortable on her bed and began to read the intimate pages, written by Vera herself. Her diary began in the late 1970’s, when she was only seventeen. She wrote about her struggles as a child, with her abusive parents, her mean siblings, and the indecency of everyone around her. She wrote about her struggle to obtain an education, her efforts in achieving respect as a woman, and her unyielding determination to be a perfect wife and mother. She described her marriage and the wars that erred there, the love that she and Willeford shared, imperfect but enduring. She wrote about her children: her daughter that died young due to illness, and her son that perished in a real war. Awni felt the loss in her words, the heart ache and joy she felt in her life. She read all through the night, her eyes swollen with tears and exhaustion.

In the next moment she knew, she was awakening to the sound of traffic and the sun streaming in on her. She looked down at the little black book in her hands and opened it to its remaining few pages. Her heart felt heavy from reading about this stranger’s life, as if she had lived it herself. In the last page Vera spoke to her specifically, “To the stranger who finds my beautiful box:”

“Life will never be easy, no matter where you live, no matter in what time you are alive, no matter who you are. If I have learned anything, it is that money cannot buy you happiness, but it can help ease the harshness of the world we live in. It is a forced dependence that most of us cannot avoid. I hope whoever finds my beautiful box may appreciate what I have left for them. May they use this for the betterment of their life and the world, and not for the selfish benefit of having more of what everyone else wants. Life is fleeting; I hope they are able to find joy and love in the moments they have left.”

Awni closed the book gently and held it to her chest, tears covering her face. She realized that as much as she craved to be in a different time period, that wouldn’t mean she would be happy. After a while, she decided to gather herself and make her way down to the artifact depo. It was one of her favorite places to go in her spare time, when she wasn’t reading of course. Not only could one view ancient artifacts and learn about them, things could also be deposited for credits.

Luckily no one was around her as she placed the paper money into the deposit receptacle. The machine drew it within and pondered for a moment before relaying what she had found, and how much what she had placed inside was worth. “Paper Money; Circa 2000” flashed on the screen, and Awni’s jaw dropped. She looked further down to see that it, in the year she lived, was worth 20,000 credits. As if in a dream she pressed the deposit button on her watch and witnessed the money disappear, and her bank account grow substantially. She could not comprehend what had just happened, what she had found, what Vera had given her.

As she made her way home again in a daze, she realized she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her newly found money. Although her photo and Vera's little black book were the greatest treasure, she wanted a real garden, a real oasis, above all the buildings and technology. She wanted to create another world in which people could escape to, a place that would be available to those who weren’t rich. Above all, she wanted a place for people to seek their own peace, a forest of hope, a place where she could truly see the stars.