Tom’s Big Journey
By Andy Valencia
After the night of packing, the car was already racing along as the first rays of sun woke Tom up. They were going very fast, and there were countless cars around them. As Tom watched the world go by, he wondered Just how big IS the world?
The answer was: very, very big. It had now been so many days with his car rolling along, usually surrounded by other cars – and he was still the only weed along for a ride! There was plenty of sun, and even periodic bouts of rain. Which was good, because the wind of the car in motion really did dry him out quickly.
Usually they stopped in the middle of lots of cars, and the people in his car would go off to a building. The next morning they’d come back out, and their journey would continue. Their parking place was always perfectly smooth and lifeless, and Tom missed all his friends.
Finally, a day arrived which was different. They had left all the cars behind, and instead were driving slowly, on a bumpy road. A cloud of dust was rising up behind them, and some of it settled as a layer of grime on his leaves. He hoped it would rain soon and wash it off.
And then they stopped. Tom looked around, surprised to see the sun still well up in the sky. The ground was plain old dirt, and he could see all sorts of weeds dotting the ground around him. There were even trees nearby. He called “Hello, trees!” but they ignored him.
Instead, he heard a chorus of “ooh!”, “here!”, “hello up there!” coming from all manner of weeds on the ground near his car. None were quite like him, and the way they spoke was odd. But he understood them well enough. They had never seen a weed riding a car, and had him tell his whole story again and again, shivering their leaves in wonder.
The days passed slowly. The car would sometimes drive somewhere for the day, but always came back to the same place, which the weeds said was a “campground.” At the end of such days, he’d have to tell them about where he’d gone that day. A plant that could travel was unique. Tom felt like even the trees were listening as he told of water running in rivers, high cliffs, or meadows of grass which ran as far as he could see.
One day he pushed up a flower! He was shocked, but the nearby weeds assured him this was natural; it was time for him to go to seed. Tom imagined himself as a silent, dry husk, and spent the rest of the day thinking hard. He felt sure a weed that could ride a car could also send seeds out and still stay alive!
A pine cone dropped from the nearest tree, bouncing off his car’s bumper and landing on the ground. Tom looked up, up, up and saw the tree had countless cones. They were seeds. If they could send out seeds without dying – so could he.
That night, he dreamt that he was a tree.
