Page 31 of The Grump Who Stole Christmas
Paul
“That one, Mom!”
I smiled. The kid had a good eye. The pine tree he’d picked out for their family had great shape.
“Honey, I don’t know. That one seems a little big.”
Billy’s mom was holding a borrowed saw in her hand, eyeing the tree with not a little skepticism.
That was the charm of the Kringle Christmas Tree Farm. Families could come out here and roam the rows of trees up and down until they found the perfect one for them. Some brought their own axes and saws, but I always had loaners, sharp and at the ready.
Billy’s mom, a single mom from what I’d gathered from the way they spoke to each other, as if the world was just the two of them, seemed worried about the task in front of her.
“I can help you with that,” I said, stepping closer to where they stood in front of the tree.
“This is a self-service farm,” she said. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Mom, I can do it!”
“Billy, you cannot cut down a tree.”
“What’s the big deal?” he asked.
“You’re nine. I’m not handing you an ax.”
The boy looked so crestfallen, I had to laugh. “How about this. I’ll get her started. Then together you two can use the saw to finish her off. I’ll even out the stump and tie her up for you. She’s all fluff, so once I wrap her up tight you should be able to manage her. She won’t be too heavy for you, I promise.”
Billy looked up at me. “How come you call her a she? It’s a tree.”
I shrugged. “Don’t know. For me trees are more like people. Some trees are she, some are he, some I can’t decide. This one, she’s definitely a she though. I named her Gloria.”
The kid’s eyes widened. “That’s my grandmother’s name!”
I’d overheard his Mom talking on her cell to someone named Gloria. Figured the kid would connect with the name.
“What do you say, Mom?” I prompted her. “Should we cut her down together and you can take her home?”
The woman’s lips quirked in a way that reminded me of Kay-Kay. The two women were nothing alike. This woman was petite and blonde and looked like she hadn’t slept properly in nine years, but still they shared the same sense of humor.
“Gloria is my ex-mother-in-law. There is nothing I would like better than chopping her down a peg or two.”
“Well, then let’s get at it.”
I carried a short ax in my utility belt. Not many of the trees were more than six inches wide in diameter. A few strong whacks would open up enough room for them to get the saw into the groove I made and finish the job.
It wouldn’t be easy. They would have to work the saw together. Slowly and carefully until they built a rhythm. But that was the point. That was the thing that made lasting memories.
If my father could see me now he’d be shaking his head at what a sentimental sap I was becoming. But he couldn’t see me, because he wasn’t here and I was never going back.
I had them stand back and I bent over. The angle wasn’t great but having spent the last two weeks doing this same service, I’d gotten to be a pro at it. I raised and lowered the ax and it made a satisfyingthunkas I buried it in the tree trunk. A few more, and Billy and his mom had something to work with.
“Okay, nice and slow.” I showed them, making a motion with my hand. “Back and forth with the saw. You don’t need a lot of pressure. Just let the saw do its work. It’s going to fall forward. Just holler when it does and I’ll be back with the netting and string to tie her up.”
“Thank you!” they said in unison.
I left them to it, checking to see if any of the other customers needed help. I stopped when I saw Kay-Kay a couple of feet away. She had apparently watched everything go down.
Hopefully, I’d impressed her more with my ax skills than I had with my ability to change a tire.
