Greetings, fiction-lovers!
Today, I’m very excited to bring you
.Kim writes Title, goes here, where she shares a mixture of fiction and some personal essay/memoir type stories.
Here, she shares with us a particularly charming story about a woodsman and his new friend. Enjoy!
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The tree was in the way. Harold had spent the spring and summer clearing a few random trees near the cabin because he wanted to expand his vegetable garden. He had planted one on the east side of the cabin years ago but felt he could grow a better variety of food if the garden was larger. It also meant he wouldn’t have to go into the village as much. He didn’t care for the villagers and what they sold in the market. He kept chickens for eggs and had purchased a pig a couple of years ago. He had reached his goal of becoming self-sufficient and rarely ventured into the village anymore. After living here for over twenty years, Harold was content with his solitude and with the hermit-like reputation he had earned.1
This was the one tree left to chop down and then he would start re-plotting the garden and where things would be planted.
It was a small elm tree, maybe 20 years old. Harold figured it would take a few hours to chop and uproot it, as best he could. It would also save him from some chopping elsewhere in the forest for firewood for the winter.
He was about halfway through the tree trunk when he heard a small, but very loud voice.
“Hey! Watch that, you almost hit me! Hurry up, I’ve been stuck here for years!”
Harold turned around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.
“Chop higher, I can climb out if you go up a few inches.”
Not knowing what else to do, Harold started chopping the trunk a few inches higher. As he chopped the little voice kept up the encouragement. “That’s it, almost there, I can see light!”
Harold finally reached the point where he could push the trunk over. He looked at the tree stump and saw there was a small hole in the middle. A small, female fairy was starting to climb out of the hole and then sat down along the edge. She straightened out her dress and stretched out her wings. She was about average height for a fairy, four or so inches. Her dress was various shades of green, Harold noticed it was well made and looked to be from leaves and scraps of material. She had dirty blond hair that after being in a tree for a while, was in a disheveled ponytail. Her wings were shimmering shades of purple and blue. Harold only had the faintest of ideas that fairies had long life spans. He guessed she was in her twenties. She gave him a dramatic sigh, “You’re supposed to yell TIMBER! when you do that, some woodsman you are.”
“There’s no one else around. Why would I bother? How do you know I’m a woodsman?”
“I’ve been stuck in this stupid tree for a couple of years, silly. I can still hear what goes on. I know you live alone. I’ve been waiting for the day you would decide to chop down this tree. So, thank you kindly.”
Harold stood there wondering what to do next. How did this creature end up in his tree? How could she hear what went on around her. She was a fairy; did she have any magical powers?
Not knowing what else to do, he started chopping up the trunk that was knocked over. The fairy watched him, giving a running commentary on his progress and other subjects.
“You haven’t asked me what my name is. Watch that, you’re about to step on a hornet’s nest in the ground. Why do you live so far out in the woods? No, all I think I can do is fly.” This caught a raised eyebrow from Harold. “I said, I think. Everyone has this notion fairies have magical powers. If I have them, I guess I’ll have to wait and see. Don’t you want to know how I ended up in a tree? Do you want to know what sort of fairy I am?” She paused to take a breath.
“You talk a lot.” Harold didn’t know what to make of all this. It was almost lunch time, and he wanted to eat his sandwich and enjoy the ginger ale he had made. “I’m stopping to eat. Do you want a bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
“EW! Do you have any bananas? They go so much better with peanut butter. But I am hungry. Just a small bite, please.”
Harold went to get his lunch and sat down on the stump next to the fairy. He broke off a small corner of his sandwich and handed it to her. “So, what is your name and how did you get into this tree? And how can you hear what’s going on? What did you do, piss off a witch or something?”
“Whoa there, one question at a time, mister! I’m Sallie, that’s Sallie with an ‘ie’ not a ‘y’. I have no clue why I can hear through the wood, and no I didn’t piss off anyone. It was an accident.” That got another raised eyebrow from Harold. “No, really! I was out here a few years ago poking around with friends and we were trying various spells, to see if we could do magic. Apparently one of my friends can. And well…. They did try to get me out but couldn’t. They said they’d bring help, but it’s been a few years.”
“Sounds like you need better friends. That was rude of them to just leave you here.”
They ate in silence for a bit. Harold found a small leaf that he carefully wrapped up into a cylinder and poured some ginger ale for Sallie. “OOOO, that’s good stuff! Homemade?”
“Yes, it is. Thanks. My name is Harold. And it’s spelled just like you think it is.”
Harold finished his sandwich and poured some more ginger ale for Sallie. “I cut the tree down to clear out this part of the yard. I’m planting a garden. I’ve been storing seeds in the cellar. I’m planning on enlarging the garden and ….” Harold trailed off.
Sallie perked up, “Hey, can I help? You dig the little holes, and I can dart about, dropping the seeds in and covering them up. What are you going to plant? Oh this can be so much fun! And flowers! We need flowers. They just make everything nicer. I know a lot about flowers!”
Harold thought for a minute. “What about your friends, your family? Don’t you want to see them first?”
Sallie was quiet for a bit. “No. If they were serious about getting me out of that stupid tree, they would have been back to do so years ago. I can go see them later. Besides, we have a garden to plant!” Sallie went on for a few more minutes about gardens, seeds and flowers and started pointing out where the flowers should be planted.
As he listened to Sallie go on about flowers and seeds, Harold started to wonder what he had just gotten himself into. He had a sneaking suspicion he had just picked up a small roommate.
P.S. If you’d like to see your fiction hosted on The Books That Made Us, please see here.
This world is set in a nondescript area of England in somewhat modern day. The village and the nearby town is never referred to by name.
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Nice to finally read the origin story of these two. Kim is a talented writer whose work I enjoy.
I had no intention to read this. I have things to do, people to see. How do I invite Sallie over for ginger ale?