by Ian Osburn
worried to rest. Worried about being chopped down. He heard the crack of a twig and quickly turned, peering into the darkness. He couldn't bear it any longer, he would have to wake his Grandpa. But when he turned to look he just stared. His grandfather looked so peaceful and snug that Gerald thought he would wait a little longer. Another minute passed. Another snap. Gerald started to panic.
"They've come for me. With their axes. They've come", he thought. He turned. "Grandpa", he said "Grandpa wake up".
"A? What? Whatsat?" Grandpa Kindpine asked sleepily.
"Grandpa, I....er...I think the men have come".
"Tell 'em none today".
"What?”
"I don't want a new vacuum cleaner".
"What's a vacuum cleaner?"
"Pardon?" said Grandpa Kindpine, waking up fully.
"Oh, never mind" said Gerald, who was feeling better now that someone else was awake.
"Come on, tell me".
"It's ok".
"It's not ok. You wake me up and then say 'Oh never mind'. So come on, tell me".
"Well it's just....well....."
"Yes? Come on" said Grandpa impatiently.
"Well.... I think the men have come for me".
"What men?"
"You know" said Gerald nervously.
"No."
"You know, the men".
"What men?"
"The lumberjacks of course".
"The lumberjacks?" asked Grandpa.
"Yes the lumberjacks".
Grandpa stared at Gerald for a moment as he absorbed the news.
"Don't be silly" he said.
"I'm not", protested Gerald, sounding more hurt than he was.
"Yes you are".
"No I'm not," argued Gerald.
"Look, the lumberjacks are human, right?".
"Right" agreed Gerald.
"And humans sleep, right?"
"Right".
"When do humans sleep?"
"At night".
"And it is.....".
"Nighttime" Answered Gerald.
"So where are the humans now?".
"Coming to get me".
"NO THEY ARE NOT".
"They are so".
"Humans sleep at nighttime and it's nighttime now, so the humans are....?"
"In bed".
"Right!", said Grandpa, "And what are they doing in bed?"
"Coming to get me".
"NO!"
"YES!"
"No they are NOT!".
"What are they doing then?" asked Gerald.
"Sleeping".
"Why?"
"Because they are human. Humans sleep at night and it is night now so they are asleep".
"But if they are asleep, how are they coming to get me?" asked Gerald. To be honest Gerald no longer thought the men were coming to get him but was keeping the conversation going so that Grandpa did not fall to sleep again.
"THEY ARE NOT COMING TO GET YOU! They are sleeping in their bed because its night time and because they are sleeping in bed they cannot be out here coming to get you. Ok?"
"Ok!” said Gerald.
"Good. Marvellous. Fantastic. Now, goodnight Gerald".
"Goodnight Grandpa."
About quarter of an hour passed. Grandpa Kindpine was just dozing off when.....
"Grandpa?"
"Yes Gerald?” answered Grandpa wearily.
"Does it hurt?"
"Does what hurt?"
"Being cut down" answered Gerald.
"That depends."
"Depends on what?"
"On what time of day you are cut"
"What has time got to do with being cut down?” asked the confused Gerald.
"Well, if it is morning being cut down means agonising pain, in the afternoon it hurts a little but not too much, and in the evening or night well, you can hardly feel it".
"I hope that I get cut down in the evening".
"You may not be cut down".
"I will".
"How do you know?" asked Grandpa.
“Well, there are a lot more of them now aren’t there, Grandpa? People, I mean. And they used to take one tree and put it in the centre of the village but now they want lots more. They all want one”.
“Yes, yes but-”
“And remember we saw Olaf in that house on the edge of the village?” giggled Gerald “He did look silly wearing all those colours and a star on his head like it had come crashing down from the sky!”.
“Yes”, said Grandpa, who had been worried Gerald would remember Olaf again. “Never forgets” thought Grandpa with a sigh.
“And then he went away”
“On his travels” added Grandpa quickly
“Yes” said Gerald “Yes, you told me something like that when I was a sapling” and there was a pause which Grandpa really didn’t want to last.
“Yes yes” he said while he tried to remember what that they were talking about “ah yes, but there are also lots and lots of trees so it doesn’t mean we’ll all be cut now does it?”
“Not now”, said Gerald, “Not tonight. But soon”
“Now don’t be silly. What makes you think that?”
"Well all the other years the lumberjacks have missed the centre of the forest but we’ve seen two in the same number of months. You know what that means. You know how they work.” He paused. “They will come here" he said.
"I know that!”, said Grandpa, “So first thing tomorrow we shall move!".
"It's too late now".
"Why?" asked Grandpa who was starting to get worried.
"Because... “
“Yes?” said Grandpa
“Because... the humans know that we are here"
"Oh Gerald, how?” said Grandpa relieved, “They don’t notice each tree"
"Yes, but the lumberjack... and do you remember that woman? The one that came collecting fire wood earlier this year".
"Yes" said Grandpa.
"Well, a few weeks ago, before the snow, I went to the edge of the forest, while I was there I saw her with the lumberjack so she must have told him. If we are gone tomorrow he will get suspicious and maybe he will find out the secret", said Gerald.
“Nonsense” said Grandpa “Tish and pish. I don’t care. We shall move tomorrow!”.
“We can’t. The trees would never allow it for a start. I am afraid, Grandpa, that we are very much stuck here".
Grandpa thought for a moment irritably shaking some snow off his branches then regretted it as he felt the cold air he was now exposed to. Soon he settled down. Then he said eventually “You know, I think you are right” and it was a moment before he was able to continue. “I am sorry Gerald. We will all miss you".
His Grandpa gave Gerald a hug.
"But Grandpa you will be cut too".
"No, I am too old and big to be cut. They will leave me here".
"Ho. I'll have to go this one alone then".
"But aren't you scared?"
"Not really"
"Why ever not?"
"Well", said Gerald, as if to boast, "Mum and Dad were cut, Olaf was cut and he was my best friend. It didn't hurt them so why should it hurt me".
"But won't you miss the forest?"
"Of course", answered Gerald, "But I would like to explore the world, like Mr. Housemouse".
"But you wouldn't be able to walk".
"Only until new roots grow".
"No, Gerald", said Grandpa shakily, "New roots will not grow. I think that you... that you are old enough now to know the truth now".
"The truth about what?" asked Gerald.
"About being cut," said Grandpa. "You see, when you are cut that is it. New roots do not grow and your energy diminishes, your branches droop, your pine needles fall and within a few weeks .....you.... you...."
"Die?"
"Yes", admitted Grandpa "You die". A big lump formed at the bottom of Grandpa’s trunk. "Yes, you die" whispered Grandpa. He could not talk any more.
Morning Arrives
<
br /> Morning came along with heavy snow. The clouds had stretched down as though trying to push back the thick fog that was rising up from the ground. The sun was trying to shine through it all giving the world a brilliant soft glare that made it hard to see anything for sure. The birds began to sing. CRUNCH, CRUNCH, went the sound of heavy footsteps, crushing the snow. Grandpa woke in a cold sweat. The sound of machinery made him jump. He opened his eyes and quickly looked over to Gerald cursing the old age that had made him sleep.
"Morning Grandpa" said Gerald's voice.
"Gerald..." said Grandpa who was at a loss for words.
"It's just a matter of time now" said Gerald, who was trying to put on a brave voice.
"Yes".
"I'll miss you, Grandpa".
"I'll miss you too".
"I'll miss everything" said Gerald. Grandpa was silent. Gerald looked over to the searching lumberjacks. "Just a matter of time" was all he could say.
How It Happened
It was late evening before the lumberjacks found Gerald. Grandpa could not bear to watch as the men drew their axes.
"It's ok, Grandpa," said Gerald’s voice, "It didn't hurt".
Grandpa opened his eyes. Gerald was lying on his side. He forced a smile over his sadness.
"It tickled actually" he said.
"Gerald", Grandpa sobbed. Two men came out of the bushes singing an out of tune song.
"I love you Grandpa" said Gerald as he was carried away, "I love you all".
And the forest fell silent once again except for the quiet rustling of an old pine tree.
Epilogue
That night Grandpa Kindpine could not sleep. He just stared at Gerald's stump. "Gerald", he whispered. He looked skyward, staring at the stars. Then he frowned with tearful eyes. And a smile came across his crinkled lips, for this is what he saw:
The End
This story is reproduced as dictated by B.F.G. Badger to the hon. A.D. Squirrel, address redacted
