The Cleft in the Oak.
By jay2143
- 1194 reads
Daniel fell headlong into the controversy as soon as he reached home. He had been away on a tour of duty with Medecins sans Frontieres and had come home for a rest. The group of his friends, Michael, Roger and Guy had kept him informed by e-mails and were welded together in opposition, whereas John, the other member of the group and the mayor's nephew, was considered by the others to have a foot in both camps! The wood, that stood just outside their neighbourhood, was up for sale.
The boys of the local school, both past and present pupils, and this included the group of friends, were devastated. To generations of them it was almost a sacred place. A focal part of their childhood, it had a lore of its own. They had all grown up listening to their grandmothers' tales of elementals who lived in the trees. They had all climbed these trees, skinning their knees and elbows and ripping their clothes. They had built tree houses, begging at home for bits to furnish them, but the great favourite was the majestic oak that stood at the entrance to the wood. The oak with its cleft caused long ago by a storm and large enough to hide a small boy. The cleft had been used at various times to hide notes to girlfriends and to secrete the first six packs of beer to sample after school. One one famous occasion Roger, escaping from his elder sister's wedding, for which he had been dressed as a page boy, to his intense mortification and the jeers of all his mates, had managed to fall into a nearby stream. No longer presentable, he had hidden in th cleft until his father, who knew the wood well, had turned up to rescue him, get him home, dried and changed and back to the reception before he was missed.
The wood had belonged to the local baker's family for generations. The neighbourhood children had always been allowed to use it as a playground. Now rumours were rife of a developer who would cut down the wood to make way for executive housing.
The group of friends held meetings for all concerned but no one could come up with an idea to save the wood. To them to cut the wood down was wanton destruction, nor did they relish the idea of executive homes on their doorstep. Tim, the baker, the present owner of the wood and at the heart of the controversy, argued that since the last gales, some of the trees had broken branches, some were partially uprooted, some seemed dead and he couldn't understand how the oak had survived for so long. The wood was unsafe and it was better to cut it down before an accident happened.
Guy had an idea. He had a cousin who was a tree surgeon. He suggested calling him in to give an opinion on the state of the wood. Not wanting the whole of the town on his back, Tim agreed proving the cost of the expertise was shared. Ken, the tree surgeon cousin was called. Knowing he had an explosive situation on his hands, he took his time checking the trees. He marked those he deemed dangerous, others that needed a good prune but could find nothing wrong with the oak. He let it be known that his firm would be happy to carry out any work. After all, business is business!
Tim felt pressure on him from all sides. The neighbourhood offered to help pay for the work on the wood so that it could stay as it was, the developer was anxious for a decision. All Tim's customers added their grain of salt. His problem was that he could see both sides of the question. He had played in the wood as a kid but the money from the sale would help enlarge his premises.
Early one morning fate took a hand. A fire started in the bakery. The noise of the fire alarm woke the whole neighbourhood. In various states of undress people tumbled out of their homes anxious to help. The fire brigade arrived minutes later. Tim and his wife who lived in the flat above the bakery were rescued, the fire rapidly contained and damage limited. The fire brigade rolled up their hoses and the fire chief after inspecting the premises declared the cause was a short circuit. This put paid to possible rumours of arson.
By 6am the neighbourhood had organised an impromptu breakfast on the pavement, there being too many helpers to fit in any one house. Hunger satisfied, the workers left for work and the others stayed behind to help clean up. By late afternoon the bakery had been cleaned, repaired and made ready for business the following day.
Two days later a notice appeard in the bakery window inviting all those who had helped to a buffet supper. At the end of what turned into a magnificent occasion from every point of view, Tim made his announcement. The wood, once made safe by the firm of tree surgeons, would stay as it was, a place to be enjoyed, he hoped, by many generations. The collective sigh of relief could be heard right across the town.
Copyright Jacqueline Hastings 2010
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good tale, reassuring
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