Wood

So this is a short story I wrote today. I sometimes have speed writing games with friends to see what I can come up with. The topic she gave me was "wood" and this is what I came up with, you could say I went a little off topic. It was meant to be only half an hour but she fell asleep and it ended up taking four hours. Enojoy.

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WOOD

"Mornin' mr elsworth", said James as he wondered past the towering structure, aprehension in his voice.
"Oh, Hi Jim. How's the day treatin you?"
"Oh, fine, fine. Didn't see you at the mass this morning. Busy again I take it?"
"Yes I er," Simon thought absent mindedly over a list of excuses he had stored in his mind. It was an issue he came across frequently in a town such as this, that seemed to take it's alliegance to the creator a little more seriously. James never felt any animosity toward the church or it's parishoners. He couldn't even say confidently whether he disagreed with them or not. But Simon was not a man to throw away a perfectly good day, sitting and listening to stories and hymns. His heart was in his own creations. His soul, imbeded in the hammer and chissel. That which he loved, to which he would sing and praise, in his own mind, silently and privately, that stood tall and proud in the forrest.

Simon became so lost in his own thoughts that he simply returned to the task, striking at another nail, extending his newest creation still taller, that it might compete with the mighty oaks that kindly donated the material.

James was a little offended at the apparent lack of interest, though unsurprised He simply said, a little louder than before to compete with the hammer blows. "Well I'll be on my way then shall I?"

"Oh, uh sure. Good bye then Jim, nice to see you,"
"likewise," Jim replied, with a little more than a hint of irony, though it seemed to go un noticed.

James continued along the path, thinking to himself. It had seemed so strange to him, it was almost as if he Simon didn't beleived in God at all, though such an idea was unthinkable. To not believe in God was like, not believing in the very ground upon which one walked. How could someone not believe in what was right in front of your very nose, and everywhere else for that matter. He was still deep in thought when he heard a familiar voice call his name. "Oi, Jim. hold on," It was Michael, walking with his wife and young son, aproaching from an intersecting road.

"hello there Mick, Ruth. lovely service it was today wasn't it."

"Oh twas fine, fine. I noticed that mr Elsworth wasn't able to make it again today.Tthat's the 4th week in a row if I'm not mistaken,"
"Oh aye. I just spoke to him a moment ago, working on his new, uh, well I'm not quite sure what it was. whatever it is it's tall,"

"Might be that he's trying to get one up on the man up stairs,"
"What's that mick?" James said, with the distinct feeling that the Mick hadn't quite said all he meant to say in that sentance. Like he was leaving something out to build tension, Mick being sometimes known for using grand speach.
"Like the father was talkin about today," said Michael, a little quiter in case anyone might have been in earshot. "Those fools that were trying to get one over on the Lord, so they try and build a tower, uh, wad they call it love,"
"The tower of Babel Michael,"
"right that's it, the tower of babel. Anyway you never see the likes of Jim paying matters of the lord much heed. Just might be the sort of thing a daft feller like Simon Elsworth might try,"

James looked thoughtful for a moment. Simon had been tolerated as a bit of an oddball, a reputation he'd earned early, and maintained for the 3 years since he moved into the town. But he'd always seemed harmless. Still it made him very uneasy to think there might be someone in his village trying to temp the holy father, or even worse, mock him. Catching the look on Michaels face, he realised he would have to offer some sort of response.

"I don't know about all that," he said, a little cautiously. "He's never sought trouble with any of us, he's always been downright friendly, if still a little daft,"

"aye, but it's the friendly ones you've gotta be watching out for. Think about it, he's not often at Sunday mass, he's comes to the dances and fete's with even less frequency, and everytime you talk to him, he's always to nice, but don't tell me you don't see sense it Jim, that feeling like he's not really talking to you, like his heads always somewhere else. Seems to me a man like that can only be half daft, or he's hiding something,"

James didn't like the idea, but Michael was making sense.

"Well if he is trying to, well you know, he's not likely to get far. The Lord will likley fix him up good and proper, and his tower, before it get's anywhere near him,"

"aye but it's not him I'm worried about, more his bleedin tower,"
"eh?" responded James, the second time so far he'd felt like Mick hadn't quite finished whatever he was trying to say.

"Well all I'm saying is, if he is trying on some funny business, it's not the sort of thing I want going on in my town, nor anyone else I might imagine eh Jack?"
"I know I don't much fancy the idea," said Michaels son, timidly. James couldn't help notice the hint of fear in his voices, along with a rising look of intensity, as he apeared to be
paying very close attention to the conversation. Michael continued, not really paying attention to his son.
"If you ask me, I think we should be doing something about it ourselves. It's not the sort of thing we want to wait too late on. I mean we don't want thinking that we approve,"
James thought that he new which anyone he was refering too. There was a definate tension building up and they both were begining to feel like they were treading on some dangerous ground. They had to be careful about the words they used.

"well, what did you have in mind Mick," James said, a little aprehensively, but starting to come around to Michaels way of thinking.

"I'm not sure, but I think a good start would be having a chat with the village counsil. Maybe they can sort it all out nice a quickly. But we need to do something, that's for sure. The tower cannot remain in our village"

It seemed that James' earlier resistance to the idea was all but gone. Of course the tower had to go. He couldn't even remember having thought anything else.

"Quite right, Mick. We can't be allowin this sort of nonsense in our town. let's bring it up with Mayor Robbins and the counsil tonight at the summer harvest dance,"

James couldn't help but notice the particularly intense look on the face of Michaels son. It seemed to grow more anguished as the conversation went on. But he put it out of his mind, the affairs of children seeming somewhat less important than the topic at hand.

"Right. That's settled then. We'd best be heading back then. Looks to be a good one tonight. See you there then Jim,"

"You too, Mick. Ruth," he tipped his hat to them as they each went their seperate ways.

James went home, and for the time being put the thought out of his head. He had worked quite late the previous night and decided he might squeeze in a nap before the dance.

He slept for a long time, much longer than he had anticipated. He took out his pocket watch and saw that it was 6 pm. The dance had begun an hour ago. He got ready as quickly as he could and managed to arive at the dance on the borderlines of fashionably late. He walked in to the familiar event, having lived in Herold Shire his whole life, there wasn't much to be surprised by. All the same old faces where there, the same decorations and all that. He noded and greeted a few people as he made his way thought the event, until he noticed Michael and Ruth not too far ahead of him talking to the Mayor. All of a sudden he remembered what he was talking about earlier and he moved his way through the croud over too the 3, catching Michaels eye on the way.

"Jim, what you doing over there eh? Come over here," Michael had a very large smile on his face, and had aparently already gotten started on the cider. He seemed uninterested in anything Jim might have to say, as he continued to string sentances together without pause. "Come on Jim, get over here ya daft berk. Where you been then eh? You didn't seen little Jack about on you're way in did you? little begger asked us if he could go play with his friends. I told him to make damn sure he was back by 4 o'clock so we weren't late tonight, haven't seen him since. The boy can look forward to a right smack on the backside next time I see him. But never mind that now, I've just been talking to Nigel here about what we were talking about earlier. So what do you reckon then Nig', you're the mayor aint you. There's gotta be something you can do.

Mayor Robbins look slightly apologetic as he replied. "I'm sorry Mick, but he's not breaking any laws. We can't just walst in and tell him to tear it down or else. I'll tell you what, I'll go over there tomorrow and have a chat with him myself, see if we can't come to some sort of agreement,"

"Sound's like a good idea to me," Michael replied "Just so long as the agreement is that he stops what ever shinanigans he's up to before he puts the whole bleedin village in strife,"

"Yes well I'm sure we can resolve this peacably Michael," said Nigel, "You'll have to excuse my now, as I think it's about time I do my address."

Michael continued to talk to Jim though he didn't pay him a great deal of attention, mostly it was just rambling drunken gossip, and Michael seemed quite happy to hold the conversation on his own, so Jim decided to turn his attention to the Mayor. He walked onto the stage where the band had briefly stopped playing and he called out for the croud to quiet down.

"Hello, hello everyone. Great to see you all here again. If you can all pipe down for a second we can get this out the way and get back to the party," the sounds of all the people talking and singing grew quieter till they were all quiet and looking at the stage. "Yes thank you all for your attention, I'd like to start by saying," the Mayor kept talking, but with everyone else quiet, it was just possible to hear a faint voice call out in the distance. "FIRE! FIRE!" as it grew louder people begin to look around to try and see where the voice was coming from. Seeing this, Nigel stopped mid sentance and, having now heard the voice himself, began to strain to who it was in the dim evening light. But then he saw it, flickering just above the trees. There was indeed a fire, off in the distance. Nigel started to try and calm people down as panick slowly began to spread and people began to stir,

"Now it's alright everyone, calm down. Doug and Pat are on standby down at the firehouse, we'll make sure they're contacted as soon as possible to bring down a truck. Beside them just the rest of the fire bugs are all here, and I'm sure will get there as soon as possible. Everyone else is safe here, really this couldn't have happened on a safer night," He continued trying to calm everyone as the fire fighters began to leave to there vehicals to try and get there as quick as possible. But the rest of the croud was growing nervous and they all started to follow the fire fighters on foot.

James was in the thick of this mass migration, slowly moving toward the flames that seemed to get bigger and bigger as they got closer. Soon they'd be close enough to see What it was that had caught fire, though somehow, he felt that he already knew. The flames reached far to high to be any of the houses, no there was only one thing it could be. Finally he could see it for himself. The massive oak structure was engulfed in flames, far enough from everything else that it wasn't really a danger, but still it burned with a violent brilliance, the dry carpenters wood little match for the destructive force.

In the corner of his eye he saw a small figure dart our from behind Simon's house and he called out to it.
"Oi, whos that!" The figure slowed and looked up to try and trace the voice, giving James a chance to see his face,
"Jack, get over here. Quickly now." Jack paused briefly and then decided it was best to do as he was told, he jogged over to James, who still couldn't help notice that same intense look in his face.
"You're dads been looking for you boy-o, where the bloody hell you been? Are you all..."
"You're too bloody right I've been looking for you," Michael had appeared from out of the crowd and grabbed his son coarsly by the arm. "Just what in the Lords name do you think you were doing. After all that your mother and I do for you, this is the thanks we get? And just what if you'd been hurt, what do you think that would do to you're mother. Oh yeah are gonna get it sonny jim, as soon as we get home you are..."

"AAAAGHH!" Came a horrible womans scream, causing Michael to cease chastising Jack in order to see what had happened. They all 3 walked over to see the woman crying and turning her head. And then they saw what she had seen. Simon was lying on the ground, motionless, a short way from the tower. The side nearest the fire apeared to be red and was still burning dew to his close proximity to the flames. His bones in his legs had snapped and the left on had burst right through the skin. A great pool of blood had colected around him. The blood that was drifting toward the tower was drying and bubbling and crackling under the intense heat. He had obviously been at the top, still working on the tower when it had caught fire. It wasn't a big enough drop to kill him instantly, he would have bled out, though it probably didn't take too long. James wondered what he would do in the same situation, if he would have jumped to avoid the flames. It wasn't much of a decision.

The crying woman managed to splutter something out between sobs, "How could something like this happen," Michael seemed prepared with an answer.
"I'll tell you how. This is the work of God," The crying woman looked at him surprised and a little horrified, even James looked at him aprehensively, "You were right Jim. Remember what you said earlier. You said that he wouldn't get far, that God would fix him and his devil tower. He must have added an extra 30' to it today. The Lord decided he'd had enough. Poor bastard, didn't know what he was getting himself into. Still we're lucky it was just him and his tower the Lord decided to punish. This is a warning here, and a lesson. The Lord is a Merciful Lord, but he's not to be tested. You'd better remember this Jack, unless you want to end up like him,". Jack didn't say anything, he didn't even seem to hear his father, who seemed to have for the time being forgotten about his anger toward Jack. He just stared at the body of Simon Elsworth, trasfixed, and yet he didn't seem like he was present at all. He was suprememly calm, unagitated by what must have been the first dead body he'd every seen. He thought he even saw a smile flicker across his face, but maybe it was just the shadows dancing on his face in the fire light. He put it to the back of his mind, there were more important things going on. If this really was the God visiting his wrath, well, James didn't really know what. Without looking up he eventually said solemnly "You could be right Mick... You could be right."