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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tree, Spare that Woodman, by Dave Dryfoos

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Title: Tree, Spare that Woodman

Author: Dave Dryfoos

Illustrator: Fries

Release Date: August 24, 2009 [EBook #29794]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

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Illustrated by FRIES

Tree,

Spare That Woodman

By DAVE DRYFOOS

The single thing to fear wasfearghastly, walking fear!

Stiff with shock, NaomiHeckscher stood just insidethe door to Cappy's one-roomcabin, where she'd happenedto be when her husbanddiscovered the old man's body.

Her nearest neighboroldCappydead. After all his wire-pullingto get into the FirstGroup, and his slaving to make afarm on this alien planet, dead inbed!

Naomi's mind circled frantically,contrasting her happy anticipationswith this shocking actuality.She'd come to call on afriend, she reminded herself, abeloved friendround, white-haired,rosy-cheeked; lonely becausehe'd recently become awidower. To her little boy, Cappywas a combination Grandpa andSanta Claus; to herself, a sort ofnewly met Old Beau.

Her mouth had been set for asip of his home brew, her eyeshad pictured the delight he'd takein and give to her little boy.

She'd walked over with son andhusband, expecting nothing moreshocking than an ostentatiouslystolen kiss. She'd found a corpse.And to have let Cappy die alone,in this strange world ...

She and Ted could at leasthave been with him, if they'dknown.

But they'd been laughing andsinging in their own cabin onlya mile away, celebrating Richard'sfifth birthday. She'd been annoyedwhen Cappy failed to showup with the present he'd promisedRichard. Annoyedwhile theold man pulled a blanket over hishead, turned his round face tothe wall, and died.

Watching compassionately, Naomiwas suddenly struck by thematter-of-fact way Ted examinedthe body. Ted wasn't surprised.

"Why did you tell Richard tostay outside, just now?" she demanded."How did you knowwhat we'd find here? And whydidn't you tell me, so I couldkeep Richard at home?"

She saw Ted start, scalded bythe splash of her self-directedanger, saw him try to convert hiswince into a shrug.

"You insisted on coming," hereminded her gently. "I couldn'thave kept you home withoutwithoutsaying too much, worryingyouwith the Earth-shipstill a year away. Besides, I didn'tknow for sure, till we saw thetree-things around the cabin."

The tree-things. The trees-that-were-not.Gnarled blue trunks,half-hidden by yellow leaf-needlesstretching twenty feet into thesky. Something like the hoarymountain hemlocks she and Tedhad been forever photographingon their Sierra honeymoon,seven life-long years ago.

Three of those tree-things hadswayed over Cappy's spring fora far longer time than Man hadoccupied this dreadful planet.Until just now ...

The three of them had toppedthe rise that hid Cappy's farmfrom their own. Richard was runningahead like a happily inquisitivepuppy. Suddenly he'dstopped, pointing with a fingershe distinctly recalled as needingthorough soapy scrubbing.

"Look, Mommie!" he'd said."Cappy's trees have moved.They're around the cabin, now."

He'd been interested, not surprised.In the past year, Mazdahad become Richard's home; onlyEarth could surprise him.

But, Ted, come to think of it,had seemed withdrawn, his facea careful blank. And she?

"Very pretty," she'd said, andstuffed the tag-end of fear backinto the jammed, untidy mentalpigeon-hole she used for all unpleasantthoughts. "Don't run toofar ahead, dear."

But now she had to know whatTed knew.

"Tell me!" she said.

"These tree-things"

"There've been other deaths!How many?"

"Sixteen. But I didn't want totell you. Orders were to leavewomen and children home whenwe had that last Meeting, remember."

"What did they say at theMeeting? Out with it, Ted!"

"Thatthat the tree-thingsthink!"

"But that's ridiculous!"

"Well, unfortunately, no. Look,I'm not trying to tell you thatterrestrial trees think, too, noreven that they have a nervoussystem. They don't. Butwell,on Earth, if you've ever toucheda lighted match to the leaf of asensitive plant like the mimosa,sayand I haveyou've beenstruck by the speed with whichother leaves close up and droop.I mean, sure, we know that theleaves droop because certain cellsexude water and nearby leavesfeel the heat of the match. Butthe others don't, yet they droop,too. Nobody knows how itworks ..."

"But that's just defensive!"

"Sure. But that's just onEarth!"

"All right, dear. I won't argueany more. But I still don't understand.Go on about the Meeting."

"Well, they said these tree-thingsboth create and respond tothe patterned electrical impulsesof the mind. It's something likethe way a doctor creates fantasiesby applying a mild electric currentto the right places on a patient'sbrain. In the year we'vebeen here, the treesor some ofthemhave learned to read fromand transmit to our minds. Therange, they say, is around fiftyfeet. But you have to be receptive"

"Receptive?"

"Fearful. That's the condition.So I didn't want to tell you becauseyou must not let yourselfbecome afraid, Naomi. We'reclearing trees from the land, incertain areas. And it's theirplanet, after all. Fear is theirweapon and fear can kill!"

"You stillall you menshouldhave let us women know!What do you think we are? Besides,I don't really believe you.How can fear kill?"

"Haven't you ever heard of asavage who gets in bad with hiswitch-doctor and is killed bymagic? The savage is convinced,having seen or heard of othercases, that he can be killed. Thewitch-doctor sees to it he's toldhe will be killed. And sometimesthe savage actually dies"

"From poison, I've alwaysthought."

"The poison of fear. The physicalchanges that accompanyfear, magnified beyond belief bybelief itself."

"But how in the world couldall this have affected Cappy? Hewasn't a savage. And he was elderly,Ted. A bad heart, maybe.A stroke. Anything."

"He passed his pre-flight physicalonly a year ago. Andwell,he lived all alone. He was carefulnot to let you see it, but I knowhe worried about these three treeson his place. And I know he gotback from the Meeting in a worriedstate of mind. Then, obviously,the trees movedgroupedthemselves around his cabinwithin easy range. But don't beafraid of them, Naomi. So longas you're not, they can't hurtyou. They're not bothering usnow."

"No. But where's Richard?"

Naomi's eyes swept past Ted,encompassing the cabin. NoRichard! He'd been left outside ...

Glass tinkled and crashed asshe flung back the cabin door."Richard! Richard!"

Her child was not in sight. Norwithin earshot, it seemed.

"Richard Heckscher! Whereare you?" Sanity returned withthe conventional primness. And itbrought her answer.

"Here I am, Mommie! Look-at!"

He was in a tree! He was fifteenfeet off the ground, high inthe branches of a tree-thing,swaying

For an instant, dread flowedthrough Naomi as if in herbloodstream and something wascutting off her breath. Then, asthe hands over mouth and throatwithdrew, she saw they wereTed's. She let him drag her intothe cabin and close the brokendoor.

"Better not scare Richard," hesaid quietly, shoving her gentlyinto a chair. "He might fall."

Dumbly she caught her breath,waiting for the bawling out she'dearned.

But Ted said, "Richard keepsus safe. So long as we fear forhim, and not ourselves"

That was easy to do. Outside,she heard a piping call: "Look atme now, Mommie!"

"Showing off!" she gasped. In aflashing vision, Richard was halfboy, half vulture, flapping to theground with a broken wing.

"Here," said Ted, picking upa notebook that had been on thetable. "Here's Cappy's present. Ahomemade picture book. Bait."

"Let me use it!" she said."Richard may have seen I wasscared just now."

Outside again, under the tree,she called, "Here's Cappy's present,Richard. He's gone away andleft it for you."

Would he notice how her voicehad gone up half an octave, becomeflat and shrill?

"I'm coming down," Richardsaid. "Let me down, tree."

He seemed to be struggling.The branches were cagelike. Hewas caught!

Naomi's struggle was with hervoice. "How did you ever get upthere?" she called.

"The tree let me up, Mommie,"Richard explained solemnly, "buthe won't let me down!" He whimpereda little.

He must not become frightened!"You tell that tree you'vegot to come right down this instant!"she ordered.

She leaned against the cabinfor support. Ted came out andslipped his arm around her.

"Break off a few leaves,Richard," he suggested. "That'llshow your tree who's boss!"

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

His advice to Richard wassound, though. What had been atrap became, through grudgingmovement of the branches, a ladder.Richard climbed down, scoldingat the tree like an angrysquirrel.

Naomi thought she'd succeededin shutting her mind.But when her little boy slid downthe final bit of trunk and came forhis present, Naomi broke. Like astartled animal, she thrust thebook into his hands, picked himup and ran. Her mind was a jelly,red and quaking.

She stopped momentarily afterrunning fifty yards. "Burn thetrees!" she screamed over hershoulder. "Burn the cabin! Burnit all!" She ran on, Ted's answeringshouts beyond her comprehension.

Fatigue halted her. At the topof the rise between Cappy's farmand their own, pain and dizzinessbegan flowing over her in waves.She set Richard down on themauve soil and collapsed besidehim.

When she sat up, Richardsquatted just out of reach, watchingcuriously. She made an effortat casualness: "Let's see whatDaddy's doing back there."

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

Her men were standing together,Naomi realized. Shelaughed. After a moment, Richardjoined her. Then he looked for hisbook, found it a few paces away,and brought it to her.

"Read to me, Mommie."

"At home," she said.

Activity at Cappy's interestedher now. Wisps of smoke werelicking around the trees. A tongueof flame lapped at one while shewatched. Branches writhed. Thetrees were too slow-moving toescape ...

But where was Ted? What hadshe exposed him to, with herhysterical orders? She held herbreath till he moved within sight,standing quietly by a pile of salvagedtools. Behind him the cabinbegan to smoke.

Ted wasn't afraid, then. Heunderstood what he faced. AndRichard wasn't afraid, either, becausehe didn't understand.

But she? Surreptitiously Naomipinched her hip till it felt blackand blue. That was for being sucha fool. She must not be afraid!

"Daddy seems to be stayingthere," she said. "Let's wait forhim at home, Richard."

"Are you going to make Daddyburn our tree?"

She jumped as if stung. Then,consciously womanlike, she soughtrelief in talk.

"What do you think we shoulddo, dear?"

"Oh, I like the tree, Mommie.It's cool under there. And thetree plays with me."

"How, Richard?"

"If I'm pilot, he's navigator.Or ship, maybe. But he's sodumb, Mommie! I always have totell him everything. Doesn'tknow what a fairy is, or Goldilocks,or anything!"

He clutched his book affectionately,rubbing his face on it."Hurry up, Mommie. It'll bebedtime before you ever read tome!"

She touched his head briefly."You can look at the book whileI fix your supper."

But to explain Cappy's picturescrudelycrayoned cartoons,reallyshe had to fill inthe story they illustrated. Shetold it while Richard ate: howthe intrepid Spaceman gallantlyused his ray gun against the villainousMartians to aid the green-hairedPrincess. Richard spoonedup the thrills with his mush, gazingfascinated at Cappy's colorfuland fantastic pictures, proppedbefore him on the table. Had Tedbeen home, the scene might almosthave been blissful.

It might have been ... if theirown tree hadn't reminded her ofCappy's. Still, she'd almost managedto stuff her fear back intothat mental pigeon-hole beforetheir own tree. It was unbelievable,but she'd been glancing outthe window every few minutes,so she saw it start. Their own treebegan to walk.

Down the hill it camerightthere!framed in the window behindRichard's head, movingslowly but inexorably on a rootsystem that writhed along thesurface. Like some ancient sculptureof Serpents Supporting theTree of Life. Except that itbrought death ...

"Are you sick, Mommie?"

No, not sick. Just somethingthe matter with her throat, preventinga quick answer, leavingno way to keep Richard fromturning to look out the window.

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

No, no! Not Richard!

"Remember how you used tosay that about Cappy? When hewas really coming to see yourdaddy?"

"But Daddy isn't home!"

"He'll get here, dear. Now eatyour supper."

A lot to ask of an excited littleboy. And the tree was his friend,it seemed. Cappy's tree had evenfollowed the child's orders.Richard might intercede

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

"Had enough to eat, dear?Wash your hands and face at thepump, and you can stay out andplay till Daddy gets home. IIwantI may have to see yourfriend, the tree, by myself ..."

"But you haven't finished mystory!"

"I will when Daddy gets home.And if I'm not here, you tellDaddy to do it."

"Where are you going, Mommie?"

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

"Sure, Mommie. Don't cry."

Accept his kiss, even if it isfrom a mouth rimmed with supper.And don't rub it off till he'sgone out, you damned fool. Youfrightened fool. You shaking,sweating, terror-stricken fool.

Who's he going to kiss whenyou're not here?

The tree has stopped. Our littletree is having its supper. Hownice. Sucking sustenance directfrom soil with aid of sun and airin true plant fashionbut exhaustingour mineral resources.

(How wise of Ted to make yougo to those lectures! You wouldn'twant to die in ignorance, wouldyou?)

The lecturecome on, let's goback to the lecture! Let's freeour soil from every tree or we'llnot hold the joint in fee. No, notjoint. A vulgarism, teacher wouldsay. Methinks the times are outof joint. Aroint thee, tree!

Now a pinch. Pinch yourselfhard in the same old place soit'll hurt real bad. Then straightenyour face and go stick your headout the window. Your son is talkingyourson, your sun.

Can your son be eclipsed by atree? A matter of special spatialrelationships, and the space isshrinking, friend. The tree is onlya few hundred feet from thehouse. It has finished its littlesupper and is now runningaround. Like Richard. WithRichard! Congenial, what?

Smile, stupid. Your son speaks.Answer him.

"What, dear?"

"I see Daddy! He just cameover the hill. He's running! CanI go meet him, 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 theMartian. But he doesn't want tobe the Martian!"

Richard plays. Let us play.Let us play.

You're close enough to get intothe game, surely. A hundred andfifty feet, maybe. Effective range,fifty feet. Rate of motion? Projectedtime-interval? Depends onwhich system you observe it from.Richard has a system.

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

"You tell that tree your Mommienever sees strangers whenDaddy isn't home!"

"I'll make him wait!"

Stoutly your pot-bellied littleprotector prevents his protectivemother from going to pot.

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

Obviously, the tree won't play.Watch your son lift empty hands,arm himself with a weapon yetto be invented, and open fireon the advancing foe.

"Aa-aa-aa!"

So that's how a ray gun sounds!

"You're dead, tree! You'redead! Now you can't play withme any more. You're dead!"

Seeing it happen, then, watchingthe tree accept the littleboy's fantasy as fact, Naomi wonderedwhy she'd never thought ofthat herself.

So the tree was a treacherousmedicine-man, was it? A true-believingwitch-doctor? And whocould be more susceptible to thepoisoning of fear than a witch-doctorwho has made fear workandbelieves it's being used againsthim?

It was all over. She and thetree bit the dust together. Butthe tree was dead, and Naomimerely fainting, and Ted wouldsoon 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 andtypographical errors have been corrected without note.

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