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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Kids
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Childhood / Youth
- Published: 08/26/2018
Tree
Born 1947, M, from Oceanside, United StatesTree
Moving to a new neighborhood can be traumatic for any youngster. It was for me. It was 1958. I was nine and about to lose my best friend.
Before Tree, Bobby Hartman had been my closest companion. He lived just down the road in a large, grey house with a wide, front porch, and a barn that his dad used as a garage like my father did. After Bobby left Pennsylvania with his family to go live in Detroit, Tree became my companion.
When I first discovered Tree, its few remaining branches were completely barren of leaves. A huge hollow, like a rip in a pair of jeans, gaped from its side. This was a place for bugs to crawl. With some hard work and black paint, my father helped me make the hole in the trunk a place in which to play.
My father said Tree was dead, but I knew better. Sometimes I would go to Tree with a problem which seemed insolvable, and even though Tree never spoke actual words, somehow, in its silent wisdom, I’d find an answer.
Mostly Tree was my place to pretend. I'd sit in Tree’s hollow as if I was sitting in a dark cave or under a blanket and pretend I was flying my space ship to far flung planets. Other times, it was my sailing ship heading for mysterious ports. Often, from a perch in Tree’s few remaining branches, I’d keep watch for pirates out to steal my precious cargo of chocolate chip cookies or Cheerios.
Many times, I made believe I was one of my TV heroes. One day, I might be Flash Gordon hiding from Ming’s soldiers, or Robin Hood camped along with my merry men, or Peter Pan hiding from Captain Hook. I was always hiding from something in those days.
Now, we were about to leave Pennsylvania for some foreign country called California. I would never see Tree again.
“You’ll love our new house,” my mother said to me in her most understanding, motherly voice. What did she know!
“We’ll have a beach right in our back yard,” my father said.
“Weee!” squealed my sister, Jenny. She was a year younger than me. “A beach! We’re going to have our own beach!”
“Who wants some crummy old beach,” I grumbled.
“Don’t you like beaches!” Jenny asked.
“No!” I stomped.
“He liked Virginia Beach, didn’t he, Mom?”
“Yes, darling,” replied my mother. Turning to me she asked, “Why don’t you want to go?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I know!” my sister announced. I glared at her. “He doesn't want to leave his stupid old tree.”
“It’s not stupid!” I yelled.
“It is! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”
I lunged at her. “Shut up!” I screamed.
Before I could reach her, my father grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “Stop it!” he ordered.
Sticking her tongue out at me, Jenny ran away.
My mother knelt before me, lightly brushing a shock of my brown hair away from my eyes. Embarrassed, I couldn't look at her.
“Do you know why we have to move?” she asked me. I nodded. My father had been made vice-president of his company’s western sales division, whatever that meant. “So you know it's important to him,” she continued. I nodded again. “It’s important to all of us. Your father’s boss picked our new house himself. We’ll have plenty of money to buy things. You can have all kinds of expensive toys, even that erector set you wanted so badly. There will be other boys your age to play with. You’ll love it there, you’ll see.”
She hugged me, patting my head the way she does when I’m sick. This made me feel ashamed for having acted so terrible. I started to cry, my tears got on her dress and made it wet.
I heard my father say, “There will be other trees.”
What he said made me angry. I didn’t want any other tree, I wanted my Tree. I pushed away from my mother. “No!” I shouted, running from our house, crying.
Tree was waiting for me. I told it what had happened. I explained I didn’t want to go. I begged it to tell what to do. When no answer came, I grew angry. Tree wouldn’t speak to me. I kicked it, yelling things I had often heard my father say when he was mad. Silence.
Evening found me still at Tree’s side undecided about what to do. Darkness brought with it an answer.
The next week I chopped Tree down.
Tree(Tom Di Roma)
Tree
Moving to a new neighborhood can be traumatic for any youngster. It was for me. It was 1958. I was nine and about to lose my best friend.
Before Tree, Bobby Hartman had been my closest companion. He lived just down the road in a large, grey house with a wide, front porch, and a barn that his dad used as a garage like my father did. After Bobby left Pennsylvania with his family to go live in Detroit, Tree became my companion.
When I first discovered Tree, its few remaining branches were completely barren of leaves. A huge hollow, like a rip in a pair of jeans, gaped from its side. This was a place for bugs to crawl. With some hard work and black paint, my father helped me make the hole in the trunk a place in which to play.
My father said Tree was dead, but I knew better. Sometimes I would go to Tree with a problem which seemed insolvable, and even though Tree never spoke actual words, somehow, in its silent wisdom, I’d find an answer.
Mostly Tree was my place to pretend. I'd sit in Tree’s hollow as if I was sitting in a dark cave or under a blanket and pretend I was flying my space ship to far flung planets. Other times, it was my sailing ship heading for mysterious ports. Often, from a perch in Tree’s few remaining branches, I’d keep watch for pirates out to steal my precious cargo of chocolate chip cookies or Cheerios.
Many times, I made believe I was one of my TV heroes. One day, I might be Flash Gordon hiding from Ming’s soldiers, or Robin Hood camped along with my merry men, or Peter Pan hiding from Captain Hook. I was always hiding from something in those days.
Now, we were about to leave Pennsylvania for some foreign country called California. I would never see Tree again.
“You’ll love our new house,” my mother said to me in her most understanding, motherly voice. What did she know!
“We’ll have a beach right in our back yard,” my father said.
“Weee!” squealed my sister, Jenny. She was a year younger than me. “A beach! We’re going to have our own beach!”
“Who wants some crummy old beach,” I grumbled.
“Don’t you like beaches!” Jenny asked.
“No!” I stomped.
“He liked Virginia Beach, didn’t he, Mom?”
“Yes, darling,” replied my mother. Turning to me she asked, “Why don’t you want to go?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I know!” my sister announced. I glared at her. “He doesn't want to leave his stupid old tree.”
“It’s not stupid!” I yelled.
“It is! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”
I lunged at her. “Shut up!” I screamed.
Before I could reach her, my father grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “Stop it!” he ordered.
Sticking her tongue out at me, Jenny ran away.
My mother knelt before me, lightly brushing a shock of my brown hair away from my eyes. Embarrassed, I couldn't look at her.
“Do you know why we have to move?” she asked me. I nodded. My father had been made vice-president of his company’s western sales division, whatever that meant. “So you know it's important to him,” she continued. I nodded again. “It’s important to all of us. Your father’s boss picked our new house himself. We’ll have plenty of money to buy things. You can have all kinds of expensive toys, even that erector set you wanted so badly. There will be other boys your age to play with. You’ll love it there, you’ll see.”
She hugged me, patting my head the way she does when I’m sick. This made me feel ashamed for having acted so terrible. I started to cry, my tears got on her dress and made it wet.
I heard my father say, “There will be other trees.”
What he said made me angry. I didn’t want any other tree, I wanted my Tree. I pushed away from my mother. “No!” I shouted, running from our house, crying.
Tree was waiting for me. I told it what had happened. I explained I didn’t want to go. I begged it to tell what to do. When no answer came, I grew angry. Tree wouldn’t speak to me. I kicked it, yelling things I had often heard my father say when he was mad. Silence.
Evening found me still at Tree’s side undecided about what to do. Darkness brought with it an answer.
The next week I chopped Tree down.
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