Tim took one more look at the clock in the corner of his computer screen. It was 2:30 in the afternoon. Three more hours before either of his neighbors would get home from work. He steeled his nerves and took a deep breath - well, made a noise that sounded like a deep breath, even though he didn't have any lungs to fill with air.
He turned away from the screen and, with that same awkward hopping motion on his trunk that had gotten him into this apartment three weeks ago, he started - slowly, carefully, steadily - to make his way toward the door. What Callie had reminded him a few days ago was true: he hadn't been outside this living room since the night that he first changed, and with each passing day he grew a little more stir-crazy just thinking about it. What he needed more than anything was some fresh air. Not just to clear his thoughts, but to fulfill a practical, biological need. Plants, after all, are meant for the outdoors.
Okay, he wasn't an expert on botany, and there was no ready-made guide on how to care for yourself as an anthropomorphic fir tree that he could go off of. But the basic idea, bolstered by what he dimly remembered from high school science class, made a lot of sense to Tim. He was taking in carbon dioxide and letting out oxygen now, instead of the other way around like a human. And he felt a lot better when Mindy and Callie dropped by - not just because he wasn't alone any longer, but because their breath was feeding him exactly what he needed in his body. When nobody was around for several hours, on a long and boring weekday like this, he felt even more sluggish and depressed than usual.
So Tim had convinced himself that fresh outdoor air was sorely missing from his life. After all, the atmosphere had a lot more carbon dioxide in it these days than it was supposed to. But he'd quickly figured out that the stupid windows in his apartment couldn't be opened, not even if he'd had human hands to work them with. He could've waited until the workday was over and asked one of his neighbors to help bring him outside for a few minutes. But Callie's warning had made an impression on him - if people couldn't handle the sight of a pig-woman on the street, they'd probably lose their minds if they saw what had happened to him. He thought about going out in the middle of the night, when everyone else was in bed. But he was worried someone would call the police to report a shadowy, inhuman figure shambling around in the dark, and then he'd have even more to explain.
With all the more sensible options ruled out, Tim had hesitantly made up his mind. He was going to go out in the middle of the afternoon, when people were busy at work or school. He'd been glancing out the window over and over for the past hour or so, and he hadn't spotted a single person out on the sidewalk in his quiet residential neighborhood. Now was the perfect time to go. But going now meant he had to go it alone - and get himself out of this apartment without any help.
The first challenge he would face along the way - and, he hoped, the biggest - was just getting out into the hallway. He'd gotten plenty of practice by now in getting the right branches into the right position to use them like fingers. Most of the time, he had nothing better to do. But he still wasn't sure if he could possibly turn a doorknob in his current state. He lumbered his way over to the hall - no pun intended - knowing he would have nothing but time to figure it out. It took more coordination than he'd mustered before, but even so, this was all becoming second nature to him now. Three branch-fingers evenly spaced around the knob, a little twisting force, and hey presto - the door started to swing open before him, after only a few tries! It was almost - almost - a shame, he thought, that all these hard-won skills would be useless when January came around. Maybe he would have to take up knitting once he became human again.
The hallway was, just as he expected, empty. As he inched his way down the corridor, he couldn't help but pick up on the faint sound of someone talking that came, muffled, through the walls. He could make out just enough to figure that it had to be someone's TV blaring away in a nearby living room. "In these uncertain times, Tri-State Chevrolet promises the same reliable prices and service you know and love," ran a commercial's narrator as Tim passed by the door that seemed to be the source of the noise. He wondered if he was the only shut-in on this floor who had been stuck inside all day, every day since Halloween. For a brief moment, the thought crossed his mind that he should knock on that door and try to introduce himself, but he immediately stopped that train of thought in its tracks. Probably the last thing that person wanted was to suddenly be confronted with a strangely-changed person like himself. Besides, he figured, it was more likely that someone just forgot to turn the TV off before they went to work, anyway.
Compared to the puzzle of the doorknob, there wasn't much that stood in his way now. Obviously, taking the stairs was out of the question for him right now, but when he got to the end of the hall, slamming the down button to summon an elevator was like child's play to him now. He rode down to the lobby, which was as deserted at this time of day as he was hoping for. And the only remaining obstacle standing between him and the fresh air he was craving was a door with a push bar. That seemed far easier than dealing with a knob, although pulling the handle open to get back inside would require more strength. But he could worry about that later.
He hopped forward, instinctually thinking to pat his pants pockets and check to make sure that his wallet, keys, and his phone were all where they belonged. A tiny panic struck him before he realized none of that was necessary right now, and he couldn't have carried them if he had needed to. The last time he had gone out these doors, sure, that was something to remember. But what a different world that seemed to be now! In fact, come to think of it, he hadn't even seen any of those things since his transformation - they must have disappeared along with the rest of his clothes.
Pushing himself into the glass of the door until it started to swing open in front of him, he was hit with a blast of chilly fall air that was everything he had hoped it would be, soothing but also invigorating. As he carefully scooted his way over the threshold between inside and out, he felt a lot more energy running through his body than that fertilizer stuff had been able to muster in him. And it was a beautiful day, too, he thought as he watched the briskly blowing wind sweep some bunches of orangey-brown leaves down an otherwise empty sidewalk. Looking up, he saw the trees all along the street covered in their most brilliant shades of red, yellow, and orange.
But his eyes were drawn, inevitably, to the few trees that weren't changing their colors at all, the ones that were staying stubbornly, permanently green. On the nearest corner stood a fir tree that looked a lot like what he saw in the mirror every day - except that it had to be about thirty feet taller. Tim was awed, and almost intimidated, by the sight. Was this really the same species as what he was now? He hesitated to get any closer, as if it might come alive and start speaking to him, too. And he wondered if that was how other people would feel when they saw him - the jarring shock of seeing something that should not be animate suddenly spring to life belonged in the realm of Halloween decorations, not Christmas ones. And that holiday was over now, even if its unexpected after-effects were still haunting society. All the more reason to stay inside and keep his head down until this whole nightmare could blow over.
The fresh air, though - that was harder to give up now that he had it. Hobbling along the sidewalk, Tim knew that he could stay out here all day. He was looking for an excuse to stay out here a little longer, to take in some more of that sweet-tasting carbon dioxide (was that what he was doing? tasting it?) before he returned to his stuffy, stale living room. He was tempted to circle the block, the same way he did when he was human and needed to break up the monotony of a boring Sunday evening, taking a short walk just so he couldn't say he spent the whole day cooped up inside with his video games. But he knew that, at the rate he was moving, that could take him more than an hour. Just making it to the corner and back would be more than enough of a workout for today.
And he had nearly made it to his destination when he spotted movement on the next block down. As it came closer, he could make out the two figures, a woman holding the hand of her small child, and heading straight in Tim's direction. Crap, he thought, I forgot that this is just about the time for school to let out. It had taken him at least ten minutes just to make it to this spot, in the shadow of the much larger evergreen. There was no way he was going to get himself back inside, or anywhere that was out of their way, before they crossed his path.
Tim was thrown into a panic, one that was far stronger than the normal social anxiety he was used to. This was the one thing he didn't want to have happen. But so far, they didn't seem to notice his movement as he noticed theirs. He must have been blending right into the background. Maybe he could just step aside and pass for an ordinary tree? He hated that thought just as much, but time was running out. The pair were looking both ways and about to cross the street...
He thought he was about to get away with it, that they would pass right by him without even noticing. But just as they walked past, the kid turned his head and stared straight up at Tim, his innocent eyes full of wonder. He couldn't have been more than five or six. "Mama, look," he said, frantically pointing. "Issa Christmas tree!" The woman beside him fixed him with a very different look, a surprised scowl. Was she just startled to realize that a changed person was hiding in plain sight, or did her disgust run deeper than that? This was exactly what he'd been warned about, what he'd tried so hard to avoid. But he couldn't let this be just another story about fear. He had to do something.
"Well, hello there, little one!", Tim said, with a brightness and enthusiasm that he didn't even recognize in his own voice. The kid giggled, and that was enough positive feedback to keep him going. "I hope you've been a good boy this year! It won't be long until Santa Claus is done making his list, so make sure you're being nice and not naughty!"
The kid was thrilled, but more importantly, the mom's expression softened. "I'm sorry about my son," she said, but she broke into a polite smile. "I hope he isn't bothering you too much."
"Not at all, ma'am, not at all!", Tim replied energetically. "Merry Christmas!", he said as the two of them resumed their walk. And as they receded into the distance, he wondered where on earth that had come from. Was that the magic talking for him somehow, or had there always been some spirit like this inside of him that he'd just never needed before? He stood there questioning himself for a long moment before he finally thought to start shuffling back toward home. Was the stress of his prolonged transformation finally driving him completely insane? And if this kind of behavior was crazy of him... was it better than being sane right now?