Ancient religions believed that everything was made out of energies. Those energies were the source of everything, and also its end. Thanks to them the universe was able to move and people were born or were dead. They also believed that, if you asked nicely and worked the correct rites, the universe would kindly move around some energy so what you wished for would happen. Like a shopkeeper that discretely adds one more candy to the order of a child, the universe would work around your wish and it would end up granted, usually in a much unexpected way.

Well… I chose to follow one of those religions. And, therefore, when I need something I ask the universe and hope that the universe grants me.

It’s not a big deal, not a secret that orders you to believe and be positive. Not karma or astral conjugations. You just learn the flow of the energies and bend them a little in your favour. We call it magic and even though some of us use wands and brooms I’ve never seen any to fly or to sparkle. How unfortunate… But once in a while I feel like to do this spark-less magic, usually with a very defined objective. This time the objective I set is to send some good energies to my father, who has been kind of weak due to intensive radiotherapy sessions.

A complicated spell; full of details and nuances. Something silly, but it will give me comfort. In the times where one can do nothing we tend to turn over to things we don’t understand, just to feel like we contributed to the end of the story.

And now here I am, getting the last ingredients to my bubbly witchy potion. Rat’s blood, dog’s nose, cat’s teeth, coffin nails… Not really. Just a bit of ground earth and four olive tree branches.

I already searched everywhere in my college campus. Not a single olive tree. So I went to the garden that is in front of the campus. And here I am! Like a madwoman scratching the ground with a plastic bag, looking moony at every tree in hopes that it is an olive tree. This garden is quite big and used to be amazing. I used to come when I was small, to see the ducks in the lake, ride the little boats or just to skate amongst other happy children. But I have not spent too long here for almost 15 years. After this time only the luxurious vegetation of the garden lasted, as the children were replaced by rapists and robbers. If I am required to cross this garden I always do it with company and as fast as possible. But now I am taking earth in a plastic bag and an ugly gentleman just changed his way. I’m glad that I am the scary one in this garden.

There is not much left of its old glory. The abandoned tennis courts squeal like defeated animals and the skating ring is dirty and smelly. Of the coffee shop that happily served Calippo and Mini Milk there is only left some abandoned chairs, still chained to each other or else somebody could steal them. An obscene couple is copulating near it, sitting on the bench where my sister always dropped her ice cream. The lake is also damp and only a couple of ducks remained. All the others must have eaten used condoms and died from that. The boats and their rows are also dead, still flowing back and fro, like asking a volunteer to come over and ride them once more. The only thing that remains the same is the wind that blows constantly between the trees and bushes, and the decadent mall that was built for academic use. This one has been decadent since ever and even though most student councils have deals with their shops nobody dares to enter. It’s said that the only costumers are exhibitionists, prostitutes and an Irish man. I don’t know. I never went in.

As for the tree I’m looking for… No signs of it.

Where I live there are tons of olive trees. It’s amazing that I can’t find one. There are all kinds of trees, from palm trees to red bushes, except for the olive tree. This scares me. I always thought that I was surrounded by olive trees, why can’t I find one now? They have been with me all my life, from the oldies at my primary school, which we used to climb and with whom we would roleplay (I am the squirrel, my friend is too, the remaining friend is the bear that is not allowed to climb the tree and the old, old tree is the home for everyone), the eternal owners of my country house, trees that never die no matter how much we cut them… Near my house they even planted an all-olive tree garden! They are everywhere! Or at least I thought so. I have been looking for a while now and none of these are the requested tree.

I wonder if all the olive trees suddenly disappeared and were replaced by others. Trees that, even not living so much, don’t grow up in weird shapes and don’t drop oily fruits that stick to your shoes. Maybe it was a single-night operation, consisting in burning down all the permanent leaf trees and planting cuter ones in their places. The city that used to be full of olives is now as fashion as a North Western street. Indeed, they had to be replaced, since their curly shapes don’t quite fit the squares of earth where trees are allowed to grow.

Or maybe the problem is in me. Maybe there are not even olive trees and I am the one imagining them. Suddenly my eyes were lit: a giant coloured butterfly was covering them, the wind blew it and it flew away. Through the eyes painted on the butterfly wings all I could see were olive trees, with their wrinkly skins and opaque leaves. Now that I woke up I can see that they are not there, they were never there, they don’t even exist! I bet that if I search a botanic encyclopaedia right now this tree will not appear. In the section “O-P” a blank page is all that will appear where my tree should be.

But, if so, why did my eyes mistook me so badly? Why did I see such an ugly and unexpected tree instead of a beautiful exotic flower? I am expecting to find an olive tree any moment now, but what makes it unexpected is that I can’t find one. If I screamed now and my voice echoed through the abandoned garden who would be real? Me, who screamed out of fear and despair, or the returned echo, who does not even have an objective? Even worst: do I have an objective? Besides looking for the olive trees that were burned to the ground and replaced with fashionable bushes… Am I the real voice or am I the echo? All I know is that the tree I am looking for seems to have vanished from this world. I can’t ask anything of the universe if the tool I was going to use does not even belong to the universe.

All I can do now is to quit. Even though I am scaring away all the molesters (nobody wants to molest a crazy woman that is talking to the trees, I suppose) it’s still dangerous to stay here. The remaining ducks, that most likely developed some radioactivity due to the lake’s water quality, may attack me. And the couple of peacocks that live here since the decadent mall has been decadent. They are known to attack everyone that crosses their focal view. Who cares about the molesters! The dangerous things here are the birds! As the human activities were abandoned and the trees took place, the birds went wild and dangerous. Maybe it was when the humans left that the garden turned into a jungle and potential sequoias ate up the olive trees?

It is exasperating that I can’t find a suitable tree, just to borrow a couple of branches. Now that I think of it maybe they are afraid that I take off all their branches and ran away. I will now turn around and they will come back to their places, getting off their hides behind bigger trees.

All I can hope is that nothing happened to the olive tree garden near my house. I am quite certain that the trees are still there. But just to be sure, in my way home, I’ll buy a bottle of olive oil.