Sunday was Bart's absolute favorite day of the week, as it was the only day he didn't have to work. He could take off his inhibitor collar and run as fast and as he wanted, as long as he didn't run to far from his Gramma's watchful eye.

"Bart honey, slow down." She called behind him, "I can't keep up with you."

"Gramma, you're slowing me down." Bart huffed. His Granmma just didn't understand his need for speed. She liked going soooo… slow. "I just wanna go over the hill and into that valley, I promise."

"Alright, but be careful, we've never been that way before, and I don't know what's down there."

"I will be." He grins.

"I want you to pinky promise me you'll be on your best behavior."

"Graaaaammaaaa!" He whines. He's practically eight now, much too old to be making pinky promises to his Gramma.

"Baaart!" She says back, with the same exasperated tone.

"Okay fine." He wraps his pinky around hers, and zooms off. Iris smiles at her Grandson. He might be a rambunctious, out of control, ball of energy most of the time, but that joy, that pleasure he feels running at top speed. It's impossible not to feel it yourself when you watch him.

Bart's careful running down the hill, he doesn't want to trip and fall. He's done that a few times before, it's not an experience he'd like to repeat. But he almost loses his balance when he sees what's in the valley.

It's a tree, an actual living tree. He's never seen one in real life before, only in pictures. His Dad had told him stories about trees. There used to be thousands of them, growing for miles and miles in things called forests. He told him that they took carbon dioxide and turned it into the oxygen they breathed. The Reach destroyed all the forests after they took over. They generated all the oxygen they needed now too, so trees were obsolete. It seemed odd that there was only one tree left in the otherwise barren valley, as though it had been saved on purpose.

He raced over to take a better look at it. He knew there were different kinds of trees, willow, pine, ash, palm and hundreds more, but he had no idea what type of tree it was. But he thought it was deciperous, or a dediderous, or whatever the word was that meant it lost its leaves in the winter. Right now though, the tree was covered in hundreds of green leaves, but in the winter it would be bald. He laughs, thinking about how funny a tree would look without any leaves, he can't imagine it. He has to remember to come back in the winter to see what that would look like.

He takes a look at the trunk. It's taller than any person he'd ever met, and he imagined if he wrapped his arms around it, his fingertips wouldn't touch. He notices something written on the bark, as though someone had taken a knife and carved into it. Was it normal for trees to have man made markings on them? Maybe there was a whole elaborate system of tagging trees that he didn't know about. Whoever marked it must have been an adult. He could only reach that high if he was on his tip toes.

He takes a step back so he can see it better, "J R plus B A, four dash seventeen dash sixteen." He reads slowly, wondering what that could mean. The numbers were probably a date. That meant this tree was old, much older than him, and probably older than his parents too. He thinks for a moment that this was the day the tree was born, but then remembers that trees start out as tiny seeds, and it wouldn't have been big enough to carve then. Maybe it was the day the tree was planted here? He wasn't sure.

The letters were even more of a mystery. They looked like they could be someone's initials. Were J.R. and B.A. the people who owned the tree, and they put their initials on it so everyone would know it was theirs? Maybe they owned an entire forest. They must have been sad when all of the trees were destroyed. He wonders who J.R. and B.A. were. Were they cousins, or friends, or neighbors?

Then it hits him.

B.A.

As in Barry Allen.

As in his Grampa.

As in The Flash, the greatest superhero who ever lived.

This tree must have been his.

He grins excitedly at his discovery, "Gramma! Gramma!" he calls, racing back up the hill to find her.

"What is it Bart?"

"Gramma, you gotta see what I found!" He says, tugging hurriedly on her arm to get her to go faster.

"Bart, you're going to tear my arm off."

"Sorry, but you're going sooo… slow. Look Look!" He points at the tree.

She stares off into the distance at what he's pointing at, then gasps, "Oh my word, I haven't seen a tree in nearly twenty years."

"Yeah, yeah, but that's not even the best part c'mon." He runs toward the tree and impatiently waits for his Gramma, who seems to be moving at a snail's pace.

"Look Look Lookit!" He says jumping up and down, pointing at the carving, "It's Grampa's initials! Grampa owned this tree! He owned one of the last trees still standing!"

His Gramma laughs, "I don't think your Grandpa owned this tree Bart."

"Well of course he did. He and some guy named J.R. owned the tree. Why else would his initials be on it?"

"I think you're confused. Back when there were lots of trees, lovers would carve their initials into them. It doesn't have anything to do with ownership."

"Why?" Bart asks, genuinely perplexed as to why anyone carve their initials into a tree for a reason besides marking territory.

She thinks for a moment, "Well, when this was carved, the people doing it probably thought this tree was going to be around for a while. Trees used to live for hundreds of years you know, much longer than any person. It was thought that if you carved your name and the name of your loved one into a tree, your love would, live on after you died, and stand the test of time."

"I guess that makes sense. But if Grampa did this, who's J.R.? Your initials are I… I…?" He couldn't remember his Gramma's maiden name.

"I.W." She says gently, "But Bart, I don't think your Grandpa carved this."

"But he had to!" He shouts, "Those are his initials!"

"Lots of people have those initials. Besides," She says, looking down on the date sadly, stroking it with her thumb, "2016 was the year your Grandpa passed away. He… wasn't with us anymore when this was carved."

"Oh," he says softly. He had been so sure it was his Grampa that made the carving, and is sad that it wasn't. But his Gramma was right, lots of people had those initials, "Who do you think did it then?" He asks.

She shrugs and smiles, "I guess that will remain a mystery."

"Whoever did it though," Bart muses, "They must have loved each other a lot, because their tree is probably the only one still alive."

-o-

"Okay, out of all the stupid ideas you've had, this one is probably the stupidest." Jaime says in protest to Bart's 'brilliant' plan.

"Aww.. Pleeease." Bart begs, clasping his hands together and looking incredibly hopeful.

"No!"

"Well, why not?"

"I, well uh…" He stammers, "Doesn't it hurt the tree?"

"Nah, look at this bark, its super sturdy. See, you can't even think of a good reason not to."

"Well, I still don't know. There's probably some rule against it, we could get in trouble for vandalism."

"Come on… no one will know it was us." He groans, "Please. We don't have trees in the future. Or friends."

Jaime sighs, "Okay fine, I'll do it. Just make sure nobody is watching."

Bart beams, and takes a quick look around, "All clear."

Ignoring the Scarab's comment about this being a waste of his power, Jaime transforms his hand into a small laser pointer. With several blips of blue light, he etches their initials onto the bark.

"Wait, wait!" Bart clamors when he stops, "You have to put the date on too!"

"Oh right, the date. How could I forget the date?" Jaime says sarcastically, "Wait, what's today's date?"

"The seventeenth." Bart says quickly, without thinking.

Jaime adds the date underneath their initials, "Anything else? You don't want me to put a heart around our names too, or something sappy like that?"

"Nah. That's perfect."

"Good, cuz I wasn't gonna do that no matter how hard you begged me."

"You, know." Bart starts, "Someone once told me that if two people carve their initials on a tree, their love will stand the test of time."

"And you believed them?"

"Of course."

Jaime steps back to admire his handiwork, smiling satisfied to himself, "Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all."

"What'd I tell you, I'm chocked full of good ideas."

Jaime scoffs, "Oh I wouldn't go that far."

J. R.

.+.

B. A.

4-17-16

Okay, so partway through writing this I realized that I'd created a time paradox (or whatever it's called), and this story couldn't really happen. I couldn't not write it though, it's just too cute. Augh... time travel gives me headaches.