Brian's Fairgrove

Whamg, kachink. It was the fourth one that day. There was that whining ricochet noise and then that kachink noise as the glass insulator burst into pieces from it's false sense of eternity on the wooden fence post. The wire that used to be wrapped around it conveying electric current gone for decades. Tony and Brian were sworn to secrecy under penalty of older Brother Butch's wrath should an outsider find out. Butch carried the 22 semi automatic rifle that was to be opened in about four days on Christmas. Tony carried a carpenter hand saw and Brian carried a single blade axe with about three quarters of the handle still holding on to the rusty head. The handle was whittled down considerably where it fit into the head due to many misguided swings from well intentioned ametuers missing the mark with the head and hitting the handle instead. There was plenty of snow out in the lane that ran by the old pasture fence.

The farmhouse was still in sight and the woods beckened from ahead. They set there load down to take a break after the last successful shot from the rifle. They had no boots but instead the shoes that couldn't be considered "good" anymore by the fact that they were a couple years old. They still only came up to the ankles which isn't much comfort in two feet of snow. The socks on the hands and diapers from the current baby tied around their ears wern't much for style but were necessary. A spring jacket and two oversized shirts finished up Tony and Brian's attire for the mission and Butch found an old hunting coat that seemed to put him in first place as far as warmth.

About an hour later and two more asasinated insulators the boys found their way into the woods. The farmhouse was now out of sight which all of a sudden brought urgency to their mission. Butch was 14 years old and was probably responsible for the success of the mission. Tony was 12 and a studious kid and probably felt the load of responsibility due to Butch's cavileer attitude. Brian was 10 and the youngest and just took orders from whoever gave them and tried not to get smacked by his older brothers anymore than was necessary from day to day.

The tall trees blocked the breeze and the swirling snow in the woods. It was quiet and so surreal. There were tall evergreens interjected amongst the leafless trees which were accented by some oaks stubbornly holding on to last years dying leaves. Butch all of a sudden trades the rifle for the saw with Tony and says "you drop that gun in the snow and i'll kill ya." The statement didn't require a reply and none was given.

Butch pulled on a chord in his hunting jacket and made it long enough to tie a knot around the handle of the saw and carry it up the tree he had selected. A half hour later the top of the tree was laying on the ground. After the display of bravado about cutting the top out of the tree it became the job of Tony and Brian to drag the tree the mile up to the house. There was much resting and complaining not to mention the punches being passed down the sibling ladder but the boys and the tree finally make it home in time to beat the early December Sundown.

Hope and Bill were back from their Saturday trek into Caro to get groceries and celebrate another payday with some draught beers at a bar that the patrons had to walk down off the sidewalk to enter, aptly named the Snake Pit.
It came time for the inspection of the tree. The boys stood outside near the tree sort of looking at the ground as Bill looked the tree over. He took another drag off his cigarette and just stared at the tree. He finally exhaled the nasty smoke into the crisp air and still said nothing.

Finally after what seemed like another lifetime he got this mocking grin on his face and says "no needles." "What do you mean, no needles" asked Brian. He was glib and not afraid of asking a question if it had to be asked." A Christmas Tree has to have needles as any fool knows" says Bill." "This is a cedar tree" says Bill. "YOU gotta have needles before it's a goddam Christmas Tree" he says. So it was a failed mission and Sundays plans were on the table.