The cursed tree?
Snowyflake, World 10, Vladyvostok.
Entry for the January competition, short (or not so) story.
A bit more than 1.4k words, sorry if that's a problem.
Ty for reading.
Last month, after finishing my shift at the fort, still hoping some of the soldiers would be so kind to gift me a union flag, and coming back to the town, I set down my exhausted bottom in the saloon. Facing the door, across Waupee, my back against the warm fireplace Henry recently had constructed, I overheard him talking to some rowdy looking cowboy, who apparently managed to get his hands on some gold flakes. By the looks of the guy he stole it. It kind of made me mad, but it's the West, you survive or you don't, easy as that. It sounded like Henry was looking for an evergreen tree, some sort of a small pine or something similar, to serve him as a Christmas tree.
By the time I managed to put together what Henry was saying, Waupee was done with his cigar, and so was I. John finally took notice of me, after taking his eyes of Maya's legs. Strange, always thought he had his eyes set on me, but playing hard to get was the way to go since he obviously liked his whiskey more than his women.
„John, still no luck with the flag, but I might get one for his next birthday. “
„Very funny Snowy, just get it, will ya? “ – His Irish roots became visible as he spoke.
„So, what's with the newest obsession our Henry has? “
„Oh, right, the girl scout in you just woke up? “
They sometimes called me „girl scout“, it's not because I sold cookies for living or something like that, but John, Maya and Waupee noticed I loved doing small favors, or rather tasks for all of them. In our small and cold town of Vladyvostok, I became known for my ability to get my hands on peculiar items, from various jobs, difficult, boring, or just plain insane. And so various nicknames came into existence, like „fixer“, „pack rat“, or the formerly mentioned „girl scout“. I did like those nicknames, but saying or admitting that was not an option, especially not for a woman in the West.
„Shut it! “
„All right, hold your horses. So, about the tree. He wants to make his kid happy. She read somewhere about Christmas and all the customs that go with it, decorating the tree, presents, so now the proud father has to find a tree. And you know he can't leave the bar for too long. I did suggest him to get a cactus for the gal, he lost it and took my drink away. Had to beg him to pour me anther one for more than twenty minutes. “
Maya saw our little gang talking or rather whispering at the table, wrapped up the business with the rest of the wannabe dancers and joined us.
„I still say you should make an act Snowy, the way you can dance and bend, it's amazing, and I bet all the guys from the fort would pay triple the normal price just to see you wear some feathers.“
„Shush, I’m on a mission! “
„The tree? “
„The tree! Oh, and Maya, no feathers in front of John, he'll have a heart attack. “
Finishing that sentence, picking up my cigars and looking seriously at John I left, saddled my pony and headed north. I remembered seeing lumberjacks going in that direction some weeks ago. After few hours in the saddle I made a stop, had some beans and beef, and continued till the evening of the next day. In front of me was a small settlement, with a small lumber mill at the far side. I made my way towards it, hoping to find someone still working. None was around, but the mill was obviously used till recently, the scent of freshly sawed wood was in the air. Tried looking around some more, and entered a house nearby, still nothing.
„Cat burglar!!!! “ – was the scream from the outside.
„What the …“was the initial reaction of mine, just a split second before diving in the dirt. Than the glass broke, and the sound of bullets flying filled the room. There was no point in staying there, pinned down, or trying to talk my way out of this one. I crawled towards the back door, and ran for them woods.
After some half hour, I was in the woods, and night started coming down, really fast. A night in the woods, how romantic, and my pony was probably gone by now. The Army revolver was not lost in the commotion, and neither were the bullets. Wolves howling somewhere, yes that was I really needed at that moment. A hungry pack of wolves to keep me warm, or in their bellies. Few feet to the left, forward of me there was a sound of a branch snapping. I did hear something stepping carefully towards me, and I set my revolver. The beast was right around the bush, so I sidestepped and fired of a round. There was my pony! I shot my own pony??!!
Luckily it was a light wound which I was able to close quickly. If you are wondering why the pony did not run away when it got shot, the answer is simple. My pony was an army issue horse, issued for performing my tasks in the past. Only thing it could not do is to fire a Winchester rifle, but I guess with enough training I could teach it to shoot from a bow. Hmm, nice idea, I’ll have to write that one down. And of course I would not be riding my wounded pony anywhere now, that much animal instinct even I have.
I thought of scrapping the tree mission, and started walking back towards Vladyvostok, soon after I cleared the woods few miles west of the too-paranoid-for-their-own-good lumberjack town. The idea came to me to actually try and get some sleep. There was something that did look like a nice spot. A slight slope just at the edge of the forest. No need to tell you that after an eventful evening I just dropped, like a fifty pound stone from a fort wall.
„Huh? Rumbling? What the …? “
Tried to close my eyes again and than it hit me. There could be only one possibility for the sound. Buffalos going for a walk, or rather a run. My pony recognized the sound too and was getting uneasy. Standing on the saddle I tried judging their direction. Heh, I was in luck, they were heading my way. Time to pack up and leave, lightning speed.
Grabbing at the blanket I slept on, there came a sudden urge to kick myself in the face. I bloody slept less than four feet away from the most perfect silvery colored little pine tree. I've tried to yank it out, but it didn't work. Than I took the rope, fastened one end to the saddle and the other end to the pine.
„Hiya! “
And the Christmas tree for Henry's lil' girl was procured. The first buffalos ran past only about a dozen or so feet away. No time to think. I jumped into the saddle and rode towards the forest. At the next moment there came a feeling something was pulling my insides out. Those buffalos got entangled in the rope and the tree. Unless I really wanted to die under their hooves the rope had to be cut, and so it was with a quick draw of the blade.
By now I had enough of excitement, and just wanted to sleep in a bed somewhere. I turned my pony around and headed for Vladyvostok. Couple of miles north of the town there were some animal tracks, pointing towards the town. As I came closer I realized whatever animals that were, they passed right through the town. General store was a mess, the stables were half destroyed. I left my pony with Jimmy's lil' boy and headed to Henry's saloon.
„Son of a …! Henry where did you get that silvery pine!? “
„You wouldn't believe it, but right after the buffalos were gone I found it right outside the saloon. Granted, it does look a bit dusty and trampled but it's perfect in every other way. “
„Any chance it had a rope tied to it? “
„Yeah, how did you know that!? “
„Never mind, I’m off to bed. “
