The Letter
As Judith sat at the back door, the coldness of the concrete step penetrated its way through her clothes to her skin, forcing a shiver up her spine. The men she was watching had arrived around the same time as the morning post; the letter delivered was still clutched in her hand. As she watched the men unload their equipment, her mind started to wander. They had come to take down the last of three old trees at the bottom of her garden. It had seen better days and was badly damaged after its latest conflict with nature. She had watched it grow along with her family. On hearing the hypnotic buzz of the chainsaw the memories trickled in...
When they had moved there, the house seemed big and empty, the tree tall and impressive. Its twisted branches entwined and tangled themselves around a rather large centre. A wooden bench had been constructed around its base; with a little tidying up this was to be a favourite spot. When in the following year Judith found she was pregnant; she had relaxed in the shade under its canopy. Nine months later they were blessed with a son, Craig. She had cradled him to sleep beneath its overhanging branches. Played hide and seek with him around its huge trunk. And when he was older watched him climb with a worrying beat in her heart. Sure enough seven years later the cries of a broken bone fall could be heard that summer’s day.
Judith could see the men now fastening rope to one of the largest branches, standing on the spot where her husband Mike had fixed the rope swing. Craig had spent many happy days climbing and swinging, the rope swing also served as a means to escape the tree-house that arrived for Craig’s eleventh birthday. ‘A den in the sky,’ he said. Although the house remained the same, the tree-house underwent many renovations, painted, extended and finally dismantled as the years passed. He had used it as a den for him and his friends, a retreat away from chore requesting parents, somewhere to study for his exams and a resting place for a pint after work.
When the first serious girl came along, the tree became a special place for them, names were carved in its wood, the swing widened to take two and the tree-house freshened up for the acceptance of this chosen lady, and it was there that he had proposed much to the joy of Judith and Mike. It was after then that Craig decided the tree house was no longer ‘cool’ and went at it with a sledge hammer, shards of wood lay scattered on the ground and splinters had been catapulted as far as the eye could see. They all had a good laugh at that. When Craig first came in and said he had joined the army, Mike shook his hand with pride and Judith held him with worry. On the day he left she had tied a ribbon on the tree and everyday after said a little prayer in the hope that he would return home safe.
One by one the cut pieces were lowered to the ground. The rusty leaves were shaken to the core, those that fell now lay flattened on the soft earth, the rest hung, saddened at the devastation surrounding them. The tree now resembled a totem pole, Judith forced a smile remembering Craig dressed as a cowboy. It was a shame; the largest branch had been ripped off by the winds wrath and now its white flesh was open for rot to get in. It had to go! Judith was sad at the news, she remembered to remove the ribbon that had been attached for nearly ten years, torn and rotten it disintegrated in her hand that very morning. When the last branch was off and the straight trunk with the large ripped off section was left. Judith recalled what the man had said...’far too much damage, it won’t live, best say goodbye and get rid’ he made it sound like nothing. A tear welled up in her eye and she could no longer fight it back, as the chainsaw cut through the thickness of the trunk and the heavy wood crashed to the ground. With the sickly sweet smell of its life blood filling the air while it seeped and dripped away she looked down and read again the words ‘killed in action’.
©Mills Laine
©Mills Laine
