Tales of M.I.R.A: The Socially Invisible Line of Trees (2009)

11

Tales

of

M.I.R.A


The following is a real account of real events from the perspective of one of M.I.R.A's esteemed agents.

The Socially Invisible Line of Trees

(2009)

By Malcolm Mc Frog Tears


At about 3:24 PM we received a call from one Mr. Nathan Harold, who seemed to have intended to call the non-emergency line. Naturally, I played along and learned he was quite bothered by what he described as a “socially invisible line of trees,” that had all of a sudden appeared in his “little town.” To say this intrigued me would be a heavy understatement, I assured him some detectives would be on their way and told him to "hold tight". Lucy, you see, was off Thunderbird hunting again, and Plasmo was sleeping so it was up to myself and MR-PM to figure this debacle out by ourselves.
'
We stepped out the front door and from the moment we stepped into this town is was quite apparent what he had meant by a “socially invisible line of trees.” Before us were an astonishing amount of identical giant sequoia trees in a straight line through the town and as far as the eye could see beyond that, each one about eleven feet apart from the last. I mean the trees were everywhere, a few were going straight through roofs, one was in the middle of a basketball court, four were throughout a schoolyard and a few more stretched along the road, though no one seemed to care, mind you.
'
The cars drove around the trees, a kid was using a tree to practice tennis and a dog was attempting to eat one, it was like they honestly believed this was where the trees were supposed to be and had always been. I wished to get to Mr. Harold's home as fast as possible, but something about the boy practicing tennis caught MR PM's attention. The cars driving around the trees could be seen as a subconscious decision but this boy was clearly acknowledging the tree's existence.
'
'
MR PM: Child, I've got questions to ask and answers to receive, so let's make this interaction just like butter, nice and smooth.
'
Boy:….
'
MR PM: Has that tree been here for long?
'
Boy: Guess so.
'
MR PM: Guess so or know so?
'
Boy: What's the difference?
'
MR MP: They’re two entirely different states of thought.
'
Boy: ‘Know so,’ I guess.
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MR PM: You're wrong.
'
Boy: What.
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MR PM: You're entirely incorrect, why would a sane man place a basketball court around a tree? I mean look that those hoops, they can't possibly be more than two years old and the tree would have to be over seven hundred at the least, so either your local landscaper needs to be imprisoned or the tree just showed up, hmm, I don't know two months ago? Do your remember two months ago?
'
Boy: Yes, of course, I shot a cross-court three-pointer for the first time ever the month before last.
'
MR PM: How.
'
Boy: Pardon?
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MR MP: how did you hit a three with a tree in the way?
'
Boy: Well I…
'
'
That's when the boy started crying and screaming in confusion and I could tell it was time to leave. MR-PM agreed that I should go, but he opted to take the boy back to the office to administer psychic anti-venom and peach tea followed by a nicer interrogation (one would hope). I myself think he felt a tad guilty, you could see it on his face.
'
Nonetheless, I arrived at Mr. Harold's home about two-to-three minutes later and the first thing I noticed was the terrific state of the front garden. I mean the man knows his stuff, I'll give him that much, and this is before we mention the gnomes dotted about the yard in their little scenes, doing their little jobs, but I knew this was no time to gawk at the scenery, fine as it was. MR-PM had sent me to do this because he had faith that I could do it on my own, and I would never want to prove him wrong, so I rang the bell.
'
Nothing happened, so I knocked on the door, precisely two seconds later I was presented with an adorable old curmudgeon that introduced himself with a hearty "The fuck do you want?" I was startled for a moment by rest assured I composed myself And replied with "My name is Malcolm, you called about some trees." He then proceeded to pull me inside and sit me down on a small velvet stool.
'
'
Mr. Harold: So you with Scotland Yard or?
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Myself: Oh heavens no I work for M.I.R.A, we're a group of investigators that specialize in things most would consider you crazy for considering true.
'
Mr. Harold: You don't say. I use to be part of that world, worked for the A.E.P Association, retired 6 years ago.
'
Myself: So why didn't you contact them instead?
'
Mr. Harold: ‘Cause I no longer have a want to contact ‘em, I expected the R.P.C’d somehow learn about it through my call to the cops.
'
Myself: Well we can help, but a price is necessary.
'
Mr. Harold: How’s three hundred sound?
'
Myself: One hundred and fifty, and three of your gnomes.
'
Mr. Harold: ‘Long as you don’t take the bottom left corner of my soul or my right toe or anythin’ afterward, it’s a deal.
'
Mr. Harold proceeded to shake my hand, though I could feel the uncertainty in his grip.
'
Myself: We also need some background, if you please.
'
Mr. Harold: Well, the trees just appeared in the yard ‘bout six days ago, but I reckon it's been happening for at least a month now, considering they’re still appearin’ further down the street. I woke to find a tree’d popped up in the yard, didn't remember seein’ it there yesterday or any of the other five years I’ve lived ‘ere. I was bloody concerned to say the least of it, what, with how these mind-effectin’ ones ’ll mess you up, but I’ve experienced worse. ‘Decided to check up on young Michelle across the street and found a tree’d burst through the poor ladies roof, 'funny thing is she didn't seem to care, if anything she was actin’ all proud of it. I assume this is one of those indifference inducin’ anomalies. You’d think the Authority or the A.E.P’d be all over it by now but I spose when no one reports anythin’ ‘cause they all think it’s normal it makes it hard for the ‘big players’ to notice, so I decided to contact the law guys instead.
'
Myself: And why weren't you effected?
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Mr. Harold: Anomalous enhancement, managed to sneak one past Personnel Management when I retired.
'
Myself: Of course, well I'll be waiting in the back yard for MR-PM.
'
Mr. Harold: Eight Fifty, the ‘Century-Old-Simian,’ he's with you, ‘ey?
'
Myself: He’s our leader, yes.
'
Mr. Harold: You know, I met him once, back when I was a fresh-faced assistant researcher. You know what he called us?
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Myself: The ‘All Eminent Pigs’, yes, of course.
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Mr. Harold: He wasn't wrong…
'
'
About seven minutes went by, then fifteen and another three, suddenly from the corner of my eye I saw a shape shoot over the fence, it was the boy from earlier. "Mister, you need to get to the school, quick, he's trying to cut one down, he sent me to get your help." Needless to say I ran for the school, quick as a newborn fox, a trip that took me three minutes before I made in only forty seconds, by the time I had gotten there he had cut about seven-nineteenths of the way through the tree with The Huge Novelty Inflatable Axe™. "MR PM, that's not a good idea!" I shouted.
'
'
MR-PM: Have you made the deal?
'
Myself: Well, yes bu-
'
MR-PM: Then Removing the trees is our only concern.
'
Myself: But I-
'
'
The tree fell, bellowing out a most horrid sound the whole way down, and almost the moment it hit the ground, ignited into unusually (and rather unpleasantly) bright flames along with every other sequoia tree within our field of vision. The ravenous inferno practically rendered the sun unneeded with how bright it was. We stood there, the trees all screaming in unison, and I just barely heard MR PM mutter "Drat." Then, in an instant, they vanished all at once. MR-PM adjusted his bowler hat and spun on his heel to face the direction of Mr. Harold’s most quaint little garden. “Well, we’re still alive, let us get walking.”
'
On our way back to Mr. Harold's lovely little abode we could see that the destruction the trees had wrought was still quite present, and soon enough people started noticing. Of course, covering out track was never part of the job description, and MR PM decided we'd leave the cleaning up to Authority or Association chaps. Mr. Harold was pleased to see we had succeeded and delivered the agreed upon payment, just as promised. MR PM picked 3 gnomes and we were off to The Office, knowing we could rest easy, for MR-PM was now most likely enemies with a herd of magical trees.
'
The End

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