Page 63 of Secret Twins for the Alien Dad

“I can’t believe you grew up here, it’s astounding. Look at that tree, it’s so pretty,” she says, pointing to a tall flowering bush with scarlet leaves and delicate yellow flowers.

“You should be careful of that one,” I reply. “It’s called a ‘lullaby tree’ because if you fall asleep under it, you’ll never wake up.”

“Oh. I will avoid that one then,” she says, wide-eyed. “It looks so beautiful, it draws you to it.”

“Maybe it’s deliberate,” I say with a laugh. “Come and smell my pretty flowers, and you can fertilize my roots at the same time.”

Myra laughs. “That’s worrying,” she says. “A carnivorous plant, and sneaky about it, too.”

“That’s nothing compared to some of the foliage we have here. Some of it even gets up and moves in the night. That’s why we have so much difficulty laying roads.”

As we wander down the path, Myra is elated at the wonder of it all. She brings to attention all the beauty I missed growing up here. As a child, you take everything for granted, but Myra’s keen sense of observation makes our walk seem like a brand-new adventure even for me.

“What is that?” she asks, coming to a standstill.

“That is what I wanted to show you,” I say with a smile. “The entrance is down here.”

I lead her down a winding path that ends at a rising walkway that winds up, from tree to tree, into the canopy of the jungle.

“This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen!” she says in a hushed voice when we climb above the treetops.

The forest stretches out below us in a multi-hued array. The predominant colors are greens and reds, but these are punctuated by fields of purple and blue and pink trees and bushes. One behemoth towers above the rest, its flaming orange foliage marking it out as well as its grandeur. Our walkway leads up above the canopy into its splendid crown.

Myra takes my hand and brings me to a halt. She pulls me closer and kisses me deeply. Running her fingers up and down my spines, she draws me in. There suspended above the jungle, with the scent of wild honey blossom and whindleberry embracing us, we make love.

The bridge gently sways to our rhythm. The world below us is a magnificent magical carpet, the whispering breeze sending ripples through leaves. It is the most magnificent thing I have ever experienced.

When we are both utterly spent, we sit together side by side, our legs dangling over the abyss.

“We should stay here,” she says. “I want this for our family. Let’s move close to your parents so your mom and dad can be involved in raising the children. They could see their aunt and uncle, and maybe someday they’ll have cousins to play with. Imagine, they could grow up with all these wild spaces around them.”

It is a concept I had never considered before. Kalei culture normally has the kids growing up and leaving home. Sure, we visit occasionally, but it’s not considered normal to set up home near your parents.

But then I gaze around at the wild canopy that surrounds us, and I feel the rightness of it. It’s only coming back here now that I realize how much I miss about the place. It would be amazing to have our children grow up here.

“I think I would like that,” I tell her.

She leans her head on my shoulder, and we sit in silence, watching the sun dip slowly below the horizon. Its rays shine on the great tree, lighting up its flaming orange foliage and giving it its name, the furnace tree.

I haven’t even shown her the treehouse that hides within its flaming branches, but I’m at peace with that. We have the rest of our lives to explore the wonders that lie on Kalei.

The End

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