Short Stories

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HE FOUGHT THE TREE...AND THE TREE WON!
He was an old man. Living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains in northwestern South Carolina. Four beautiful cats let him live in the log cabin. The two cats kept a close eye on him when he was inside. The two outside cats watched him as he often meandered around the property seeking adventure and mischievousness: lawns, gardens, workshop, pine woods, etc.
To the left of the cabin there was a big, mean-looking, rotting pine TREE, probably 12 to 14 inches in diameter. It was leaning slightly toward the log cabin. It was always his intention to have that TREE cut down, especially as it had decided to hover over one end of the cabin. This, of course, smacks of professional sawyers, visions of lumberjacks---big money. Big money was not his game.
One night there was a wild, windstorm. From inside the cabin he could perceive no damage. No loud "cracking" sounds. However, several days later while checking the propane level in the big tank, he noticed the TREE had cracked about 8 feet up the trunk, the upper part of the tree falling and hanging up in 3, 4 of my neighbor's trees. Unsightly. One good thing is that the TREE had fallen in the direction opposite the cabin. The old man was thankful to the Lord about that outcome. However, the TREE really needed to be brought down to ground level.
In the past two years the old man had cut down 25-30 trees to allow sunlight to reach his expanding garden. His pet yellow chain saw was primed to go. Why not give it the "old college try?"
Carefully notching the trunk of the TREE at about 2 feet above the ground, and then cutting in from the other side (this method works a little less that 100% of the time). Nothing happened. Nothing. Apparently, a 3, 4 inch oak sapling standing against the upper part of the TREE was holding up the show, the slingshot effect. So he started cutting that smaller oak tree down. LIGHTS...ACTION...FLASHES. The TREE had broken off at the 2 foot trunk notches cut earlier. the TREE was loose and swung horizontally like on a gigantic hinge, sideswiping and surprising the old man. The BAD TREE hit the old man in the shoulder, neck, and back. And what was that loud "popping" sound? Surely, it meant big trouble. Excruciating pain. A broken ankle was diagnosed later.
The chain saw was on the ground, "purring" for some attention. The old man calmly switched it off. Using a childhood skill(ha ha), the old man crawled on his hands and knees out of the woods, across the back lawn, across the front lawn, around the corner to the kitchen steps. Crawling up the steps, opening the two kitchen doors, and "standing on his knees," he reached the telephone by the kitchen door counter. 9-1-1, he had always wanted to see how that worked. Gave the information, laid down on the floor, and fell asleep (or, passed out?). It was a pleasant nap---no pain.
EMS arrived, then 23 miles to the hospital Emergency Room. Ankle surgery that night. Never felt "pins" and "needles," but later saw two pins in the ankle X-ray at the orthopedist's office. Two of the Lone Ranger's silver bullets couldn't match those two stainless steel pins. Certainly God had been watching. People who have seen the pictures said I easily could have been killed. Thankfully, I am alive with the deep feeling that God has a purpose for the rest of my life: maybe writing.
There is a moral to this story:
TREES ARE LIKE CATS---THEY HAVE A MIND OF THEIR OWN!
PS- How could I have done such a stupid thing and still sit here and feel so good about it? Gathering fresh material for a new story, I suppose. Shades of Geraldo, huh?
Although I flunked the lumberjack test, at least I didn't shoot myself in the foot with birdshot.
Leon Gile Salem, SC 864-944-2708 [email protected]
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Home...and computerizing again!

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