Tree, Spare that Woodman Read online

me up, Mommie," Richard explained solemnly, "but he won'tlet me down!" He whimpered a little.

  He must _not_ become frightened! "You tell that tree you've got to comeright down this instant!" she ordered.

  She leaned against the cabin for support. Ted came out and slipped hisarm around her.

  "Break off a few leaves, Richard," he suggested. "That'll show your treewho's boss!"

  Standing close against her husband, Naomi tried to stop shaking. But shelacked firm support, for Ted shook, too.

  His advice to Richard was sound, though. What had been a trap became,through grudging movement of the branches, a ladder. Richard climbeddown, scolding at the tree like an angry squirrel.

  * * * * *

  Naomi thought she'd succeeded in shutting her mind. But when her littleboy slid down the final bit of trunk and came for his present, Naomibroke. Like a startled animal, she thrust the book into his hands,picked him up and ran. Her mind was a jelly, red and quaking.

  She stopped momentarily after running fifty yards. "Burn the trees!" shescreamed over her shoulder. "Burn the cabin! Burn it all!" She ran on,Ted's answering shouts beyond her comprehension.

  Fatigue halted her. At the top of the rise between Cappy's farm andtheir own, pain and dizziness began flowing over her in waves. She setRichard down on the mauve soil and collapsed beside him.

  When she sat up, Richard squatted just out of reach, watching curiously.She made an effort at casualness: "Let's see what Daddy's doing backthere."

  "He's doing just what you said to, Mommie!" Richard answeredindignantly.

  Her men were standing together, Naomi realized. She laughed. After amoment, Richard joined her. Then he looked for his book, found it a fewpaces away, and brought it to her.

  "Read to me, Mommie."

  "At home," she said.

  Activity at Cappy's interested her now. Wisps of smoke were lickingaround the trees. A tongue of flame lapped at one while she watched.Branches writhed. The trees were too slow-moving to escape ...

  But where was Ted? What had she exposed him to, with her hystericalorders? She held her breath till he moved within sight, standing quietlyby a pile of salvaged tools. Behind him the cabin began to smoke.

  Ted wasn't afraid, then. He understood what he faced. And Richard wasn'tafraid, either, because he didn't understand.

  But she? Surreptitiously Naomi pinched her hip till it felt black andblue. That was for being such a fool. She must _not_ be afraid!

  "Daddy seems to be staying there," she said. "Let's wait for him athome, Richard."

  "Are you going to make Daddy burn _our_ tree?"

  She jumped as if stung. Then, consciously womanlike, she sought reliefin talk.

  "What do _you_ think we should do, dear?"

  "Oh, I _like_ the tree, Mommie. It's cool under there. And the treeplays with me."

  "How, Richard?"

  "If I'm pilot, he's navigator. Or ship, maybe. But he's so dumb, Mommie!I always have to tell him everything. Doesn't know what a fairy is, orGoldilocks, or anything!"

  He clutched his book affectionately, rubbing his face on it. "Hurry up,Mommie. It'll be bedtime before you ever read to me!"

  She touched his head briefly. "You can look at the book while I fix yoursupper."

  * * * * *

  But to explain Cappy's pictures--crudely crayoned cartoons, really--shehad to fill in the story they illustrated. She told it while Richardate: how the intrepid Spaceman gallantly used his ray gun against thevillainous Martians to aid the green-haired Princess. Richard spooned upthe thrills with his mush, gazing fascinated at Cappy's colorful andfantastic pictures, propped before him on the table. Had Ted been home,the scene might almost have been blissful.

  It might have been ... if their own tree hadn't reminded her ofCappy's. Still, she'd almost managed to stuff her fear back into thatmental pigeon-hole before their own tree. It was unbelievable, but she'dbeen glancing out the window every few minutes, so she saw it start.Their own tree began to walk.

  Down the hill it came--right there!--framed in the window behindRichard's head, moving slowly but inexorably on a root system thatwrithed along the surface. Like some ancient sculpture of SerpentsSupporting the Tree of Life. Except that it brought death ...

  "Are you sick, Mommie?"

  No, not sick. Just something the matter with her throat, preventing aquick answer, leaving no way to keep Richard from turning to look outthe window.

  "I think our tree is coming to play with me, Mommie."

  No, no! Not Richard!

  "Remember how you used to say that about Cappy? When he was reallycoming to see your daddy?"

  "But Daddy isn't home!"

  "He'll get here, dear. Now eat your supper."

  A lot to ask of an excited little boy. And the tree _was_ his friend, itseemed. Cappy's tree had even followed the child's orders. Richard mightintercede--

  No! Expose him to such danger? How could she think of it?

  "Had enough to eat, dear? Wash your hands and face at the pump, and youcan stay out and play till Daddy gets home. I--I want----I may have tosee your friend, the tree, by myself ..."

  "But you haven't finished my story!"

  "I will when Daddy gets home. And if I'm not here, you tell Daddy to doit."

  "Where are you going, Mommie?"

  "I might see Cappy, dear. Now go and wash, please!"

  "Sure, Mommie. Don't cry."

  Accept his kiss, even if it _is_ from a mouth rimmed with supper. Anddon't rub it off till he's gone out, you damned fool. You frightenedfool. You shaking, sweating, terror-stricken fool.

  Who's he going to kiss when you're not here?

  The tree has stopped. Our little tree is having its supper. How nice.Sucking sustenance direct from soil with aid of sun and air in trueplant fashion--but exhausting our mineral resources.

  (How wise of Ted to make you go to those lectures! You wouldn't want todie in ignorance, would you?)

  The lecture--come on, let's go back to the lecture! Let's free our soilfrom every tree or we'll not hold the joint in fee. No, not joint. Avulgarism, teacher would say. Methinks the times are out of joint.Aroint thee, tree!

  Now a pinch. Pinch yourself hard in the same old place so it'll hurtreal bad. Then straighten your face and go stick your head out thewindow. Your son is talking--your son, your sun.

  Can your son be eclipsed by a tree? A matter of special spatialrelationships, and the space is shrinking, friend. The tree is only afew hundred feet from the house. It has finished its little supper andis now running around. Like Richard. _With_ Richard! Congenial, what?

  Smile, stupid. Your son speaks. Answer him.

  "What, dear?"

  "I see Daddy! He just came over the hill. He's running! Can I go meethim, Mommie?"

  "No, dear. It's too far."

  Too far. Far too far.

  "Did you say something to me, Richard?"

  "No. I was talking to the tree. I'm the Spaceman and he's the Martian.But he doesn't want to be the Martian!"

  Richard plays. Let us play. Let us play.

  You're close enough to get into the game, surely. A hundred and fiftyfeet, maybe. Effective range, fifty feet. Rate of motion? Projectedtime-interval? Depends on which system you observe it from. Richard hasa system.

  "He doesn't want to play, Mommie. He wants to see you!"

  "You tell that tree your Mommie _never_ sees strangers when Daddy isn'thome!"

  "I'll _make_ him wait!"

  Stoutly your pot-bellied little protector prevents his protective motherfrom going to pot.

  "If he won't play, I'll use my ray gun on him!"

  Obviously, the tree won't play. Watch your son lift empty hands, armhimself with a weapon yet to be invented, and open fire on the advancingfoe.

  "Aa-aa-aa!"

  So _that's_ how a ray gun sounds!

  "You're dead, tree! You're dead! Now you _can't_ play with me any more.You're dead!"<
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  * * * * *

  Seeing it happen, then, watching the tree accept the little boy'sfantasy as fact, Naomi wondered why she'd never thought of that herself.

  So the tree was a treacherous medicine-man, was it? A true-believingwitch-doctor? And who could be more susceptible to the poisoning of fearthan a witch-doctor who has made fear work--and believes it's being usedagainst him?

  It was all over. She and the tree bit the dust together. But the treewas dead, and Naomi merely fainting, and Ted would soon be home ...

  --DAVE DRYFOOS

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ October 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.