The Urool Tree

By Tabitha B. Lewes

"Who are you? You're familiar to me."

A tree has appeared unexpectedly in the whimsical little town of Laplace, where the locals take inordinate pride in their gossip, their diner, and their modern wifi. Nobody knows what kind of tree it is, but they wonder about the woman who has burst into town, intent on clearing the space on the town square.

Mary Claudia wants the tree gone. She's come all this way to Laplace for her own purposes, and she doesn't care what the town thinks. The tree's bulky roots and odd fruit only keep getting in her way.

Something else stands in her way - the owner of Herbs and Melodies, the new shop that abruptly sprang into existence in the ruins of an abandoned old furniture store. Tim Collin turns up everywhere. The man is disturbing, disruptive, yet the locals adore him.

Tim mysteriously seems to know all about her plans for the town, far more than any stranger should. Is he friend, foe, or something else altogether?

A swift, breathless, magical tale for lovers of fairytales, Under Milkwood, and other surreal things.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tabitha B. Lewes
• Release date: Dec 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223440529

Book preview

Notables

Innocence is the careful art of not knowing bad things. Happiness is knowing bad things and then forgetting them.

-The wise folk of Laplace

Eating certain seeds will leave your mouth tasting bitter. That's normal. It should go away in a few days or your money back.

Tim Collin, storekeeper

Chapter 1

The Tree

Taste of me and rule the day

Tomorrow things will go your way

Once you eat, all will know

Who you are and how I grow

Two kinds of people lived in Laplace: those who would rather watch the square from the diner, and those who would rather watch the diner from the square.

Laplace was like many small towns. It was built in a valley where observers could watch the town without entering it, and where the inhabitants could ignore the outside as they pleased. The square in the center was cleaved into four perfect sections, the town's founder anchoring the north side while his horse pinned down the south. Westward, a fountain rained over joyously tossed, and surreptitiously regotten, pennies. There was even a quaint brick road that looped the entire square, once defining the original town, around which Teeter Jinkens had ridden his apple buggy nine times on the day of his wedding after being asked by his juvenile bride how many more years he intended to live. Nine children later, he perished—leaving her the house abutting the morning sun, of recent years cleaved into a diner and a chapel, both fated to be gathering places for Laplacians.

The chapel was less popular than the diner, being the bane of existence to the town’s older citizens, who remembered the old log church that had stood just off-center of the square by a huge old tree. It was years ago but seemed like just yesterday that the tree had burned down, vengefully taking with it the splintering church and launching a single piece of burning bark into the Taversty’s furniture store.

The square had gone sadly downhill since the fire.

The