Annie

 Annie

Printed originally in the Norwich Chameleon, 2012 edition

1st Place: Prose, 2012 Chameleon

 

I wrote this short story for my creative writing class last year.  Enjoy!

The sun is up, but don’t tell me to come down!  I like living on my Redwood tree branch.  I call her Annie.  She’s as thick as a full-grown man’s chest, and has lots of dark green leaves.  She’s held my weight for nine years now.  Maurika—my mom—says that I might have to move to a lower, stronger limb when I’m older.  I don’t want to move because Annie has lots of nice things.  She has a knot a few feet out that I grasp when I swing around for exercise.  She has a small hole that I sometimes store food scraps or other items inside.  Once in a while, I shave off bark and rub the smooth rust-colored wood underneath it.  Maurika hates that.  She says it hurts the Tree, but the Tree always grows it back. 

Maurika lives on a lower limb facing the other direction.  She never mistreats the Tree.  She always talks about proper care of our home.  I think she hurts it when she snaps off branches to throw at people who yell things at us.  I’m not allowed to do that.  She says that violence is only okay when defending a loved one, so she does it for me.  I don’t understand why people on The Ground get so mad at us.  All we do is sit in our Tree and relax all day. 

There are already crowds gathering under our Tree, so it must be breakfast time.  I can see Maurika’s friend Hashy tossing a package up from The Ground.  Maurika catches it.  Warm toast and an apple for both of us.  I see people below eating eggs and waffles from nearby cafes.  Maurika says I can’t have those foods—they hurt animals to make them.  Why would anyone hurt animals?  The foods smell good, though.

I tell Maurika I have to go to the bathroom.  She passes me the toilet bucket.  I pull down my pants down and use it.  People point and scream from below.  I ignore them.  Maurika tells me they forget that they’re animals themselves.  I use rope to lower the bucket to the ground.  Maurika’s friend Hashy gets it.  He is our “sanitation worker.”  He likes to look at her a lot.  He doesn’t look at me much. 

Maurika asks me if I am ready for today’s media event.  I tell her that I will do my best.  She reminds me not to mention the rules like last time.  I didn’t realize it was bad to talk about the rules.  Afterwards, the reporters wrote bad stories about us.  Maurika said it was about child abuse, and that they said I had a right to live a normal life.  The next day, I told reporters I was happy and smiled and hugged my mom.  They didn’t believe me.  Nobody ever believes me.

Maurika asks me what I think of her friend Hashy joining us for the day.  I reply that I don’t care.  Last time he climbed the Tree, he gave me really good brownies that made me feel like I was floating.  I liked the floating, but it was kind of scary too.  Maurika really likes those brownies; she and Hashy eat them together almost every day.

Hashy walks over to our Tree and props his ladder against it.  When he climbs up, he flashes me a weird grin and asks what’s up.  He calls me “Buddy.”  I don’t like that name.  I lay down on Annie, waiting for Maurika and Hashy to pay attention to me.  They talk for a while, occasionally pointing at The Ground and at me.  Finally, Maurika tells me to come down to her tree branch.  I hate leaving Annie for anything.  But I obey Maurika and climb over to them.

She tells me that later, I must tell the reporters exactly what she says now.  I ask her what that is.  She says that I must say I enjoy “school,” and have never wanted to be “socialized.”  I tell her that I hate “school” and don’t understand what “socialized” is.  She tells me to shut up and just say it.  I ask her if I can skip “school” today if I tell the reporters what she wants me to.  She tells me that she’ll think about it, which means no.  I dislike “school” because Maurika gets mean when she teaches me.  She says that the “government” makes her teach me these things, but she can do it any way she likes.  She says that the President is a tree-killing bastard and makes me say it before each lesson.  She hits me with a sharpened branch when I forget. 

I remember one time when I almost had to get down from Annie.  There were lots more people gathered around that day, and cameras.  Maurika was even stricter than usual that day.  There was lots of talk about “custody” and “abuse.”  I wasn’t allowed to say anything, but Maurika talked a lot.  She showed people papers she made me write on and talked about “home schooling.”  I don’t know what happened, but everyone left us in the end.  Maurika told me it was a shame I had to write on dead trees just so I could live on one.

            Later, the reporters arrive and Hashy makes a speech to them.  Something about the “common good” and “rights of every citizen.”  I hear a reporter say something about his hair.  Hashy laughs and does something with his hand that makes all the female reporters gasp and back away.  A few of them walk over to Annie and ask me if I am happy.

            I tell them that I love “school” and don’t need to be “socialized.”  They ask if my mom is a nice teacher, so I tell them that the president is a tree-killing bastard.  When they ask if I like “dope,” Maurika bellows out something and they turn their attention to her.  I’m relieved that the attention is gone.  I relax on Annie for the rest of the day.

            During dinner, Maurika comes over to Annie.  This doesn’t happen often, since Annie doesn’t hold heavy weight too well.  I ask what’s going on.  Maurika says that Hashy thinks living in the Tree is a waste of time now because there are less reporters coming than before.  She tells me that Hashy might have to leave soon to do “bigger” things, and asks what I think of that.  I tell her I don’t care if he leaves.  She seems happy with my answer.

Then, just after dinner, I hear a voice call out hello.  I peer down and see a girl on The Ground.  She looks nice.  She has short brown hair and a freckled nose that she wrinkles as she looks up at me.  She seems about my age, and is wearing a red shirt, jeans, and sneakers.  She asks me what I’m doing.  I tell her that I’m actually about to go to sleep.  She laughs.  It’s a cute sound—it reminds me of the squirrels that sometimes try to steal my food.  She asks how I can sleep in a tree.  I tell her that it’s pretty easy, and that my mom does it too.  She asks if I’m afraid of falling down.  I tell her that it’s never happened, and I don’t think it will.  She says that she fell out of a tree once and broke her arm.  I am about to ask her what she was doing in a tree when Maurika interrupts.  She tells the girl to go home, and not to talk to me again.  I tell Maurika that it’s okay—I like talking to new people.  Maurika tells me to shut up and not talk to strangers.  When I look back at The Ground, the girl’s gone.  I lie down on Annie and feel my heart humming faster than usual.  I am scared of how it feels.

The next day, I’m watching the usual “gawkers,” as Maurika calls them, when I see the girl again.  I glance at Maurika.  She’s talking down to Hashy on The Ground and seems very angry about something.  I whisper to the girl, asking why she’s back.  She tells me that she wanted to see if I had fallen out or not.  I tell her I’ve obviously never fallen because I’ve never been down.  She asks if I am going for a world record.  I tell her that I’ve already set one.  She looks impressed.  Then she wrinkles her nose and asks where I go to school.  I tell her my mom teaches me.  She looks angry and says that every boy and girl should go to school—that’s what her mom says.  She tells me that her mom says it’s a “real shame” what my mom is doing to me.  I tell the girl that Maurika is a great mom and I’m happy here on Annie.  She asks what Annie is, and I don’t tell her.  I lie down and try to sleep.

The girl says loudly that she’s still here and I should talk.  I yell that I have no reason to talk to her.  She yells back that I should come down and try eating meat.  I gasp.  Meat!  The number one rule—this girl wanted me to break it!  Now I understand why Maurika wants her to stay away.  I tell the girl that I will never eat meat, and she’s a terrible person for not loving animals.  She says quietly that many wild animals eat each other.  She says I should come down and join her for lunch.  Her mom cooks great spaghetti and meatballs.  I tell her that I’ve already had lunch and have no interest in coming down.  I inform her that I’m done talking and want her to go away.  I hear her stomping away and close my eyes.  I fall asleep to the sound of Hashy yelling at Maurika.  But through the noise, I’m thinking of the girl wrinkling her freckled nose.

The next morning when I wake up, Hashy is back in the tree.  He’s sitting next to me on Annie.  I hate it when other people sit on Annie.  He says that we should have a talk, man to man.  I ask him why my mom can’t have this talk with me.  Hashy tells me that he’s been planning this for a while, and he’d like to leave my mom out of it.  I tell him I’m not interested in anymore of his “special brownies.”  He says this is different.

Hashy tells me that people around us have finally decided to end our happy time in the Tree.  He says that tree-cutters will be arriving this afternoon to saw down our Tree.  He says that it will die, and we will be forced to live on The Ground like everybody else.  He gazes into my eyes and says, “Your mom is in love with this tree, Buddy.  She might jump off and kill herself.  You don’t want your mom to get hurt, do you?”  I tell him that I don’t.  He smiles at me and rubs the knot on Annie.  I feel my shoulders tighten.  “Then you have to jump first, Buddy.”

I look at his face.  Above his friendly grin, Hashy is wearing a beanie and has wild brown curls that droop out of it.  His face and neck are covered by a week-old beard, and he smells like smoke.  I feel sick suddenly.  Jump out of the Tree?  To The Ground?  I tell him that I can’t do that without Maurika’s permission.  He says the only way to help Maurika is to not tell her.  He says I should do it as soon as he leaves, and he is counting on me to save my mother’s life.  Then he calmly steps onto another branch and descends his ladder.  I sit on Annie and watch my mom.  Maurika looks happy as she peels an orange for breakfast.  For a woman about to jump from a tree, she sure looks calm.  I guess that Maurika has been preparing for this moment for a long time.  My grip tightens on Annie as Hashy walks away.  Who is he to tell me to jump from here?  He must think I’m stupid.  I’ll talk to Maurika. 

I stand up and take a wide step towards her.  Suddenly I hear the most ominous sound in the world: a cracking of wood.  I have heard it once before, when I was about seven.  Maurika had screamed and grabbed the Tree’s trunk; the branch she had been on came tumbling down to The Ground and shattered.  I remember looking down at those splintered pieces of wood, wondering what a person would look like if they fell.  I didn’t leave Annie for two days after that.  At night I sometimes have dreams of branches, cracking, snapping, and tearing off the Tree.  But Annie is strong.  She can never break.

Yet now it is Annie being ripped off the trunk.  I grab at the thin branch above, which snaps off easily.  Annie shudders under my feet.  She is bending slowly at the arch where she attaches to the Tree.  I see the problem clearly: saw marks.  Hashy had been sawing as I slept.  Suddenly I understand: Hashy wanted us to leave.  Maurika wanted to stay here with me.  So Hashy wanted me dead.  There is about an inch of wood supporting my weight in the thin air above The Ground.  I scream.  “MOM!”  Maurika’s head spins around like an owl’s; I see her stand up, but she will not get here on time.  There is a low grinding sound, and Annie hesitantly tilts her head towards the ground.  I grab her and begin pulling my body toward the trunk.  She jolts, tilting sharply at a sixty-degree angle.  There is a sharp snapping sound as Annie breaks off the trunk.  For a second, I am clinging Annie awkwardly in the air.  Then, with the sound of whistling wind drowning my mom’s screams, we tumble down together.  And I learn how it feels to fall.

I am smashed and tossed.  My body is erupting in pain.  I can’t see.

“Oh my God.”

“I can’t believe he’s alive.”

“Has someone called an ambulance?”

I feel relaxed now.  My torso is spread out over a huge space.  This surface is flat and rough and wonderful.  I feel supported much better than ever before.  I open my eyes and gaze around me.  Everyone is so tall, so close, and so loud!  The Redwood is so high above me.  In its shadow, Annie lies beside me, broken and dead.  I strain my neck to look for Maurika and groan in pain.  The gathering crowd murmurs.  Then I see Maurika’s eyes, full of tears, gazing anxiously over me.  “Baby!  I’m so sorry!  Are you okay?” she cries.  I try to nod, but my neck aches.  “Don’t move, baby.  We’ll get you help.  You’ll never have to go back in a tree again, okay?”  Over Maurika’s shoulder, I can barely see the menacing glare of Hashy.  He looks like he wants to throw me off another tree.  But then his face disappears from view as the freckled girl leans over me with a wrinkled nose. 

“Gee.  I knew you’d fall down.  Now will you come over for lunch?”