Attack Of the Killer Christmas Tree
How many people can say that they, on their tenth Christmas upon this earth, were almost killed by a runaway Christmas tree? My guess is that not many people can. Christmas isn’t necessarily a holiday that one would normally associate with death and demise, so I do not blame you whatsoever if you weren’t almost mowed down by a giant Pine at any point in your life (so far). I myself, however, have stared death in the eye in the form of a bumbling, tumbling Christmas tree.
The day that this event occurred took place two days before the biggest day of the year for ten year old James Castle. James Castle is my name if you were wondering and, as a ten year old, Christmas was the most anticipated day of the year for me (next to my birthday that is). My father had woken us up bright and early; the “us” consisting of my mother, myself, and my older twin sisters Natalie and Sally. We were out the door and into our family station wagon without much trouble at all (which was a miracle considering that there were three females in our family). My sisters and I were used to the drive that we were taking. My mother and father had been going to Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm since before we were born. It was the same trip that we took every year two days before Christmas; over the river and though the hills, to Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm we went.
After about two hours and eight plays of my mother’s favorite Bing Crosby Celebrates the Holidays CD, we pulled into the makeshift dirt parking lot of Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm. Just passed the parking lot stood the most magnificent view a ten year old boy who loves Christmas could behold. Hundreds upon hundreds of Christmas trees of all different sizes stood waiting to be chopped down, netted up, and brought home for the best thing of all to be placed under them…presents. Along with all the snowy mountains surrounding the little Christmas tree haven, the whole scene was perfect for Christmas. It was as if Santa Clause himself, the big man, jolly ole St. Nick, could be patiently awaiting his moment over the hilltops.
“Alright troops! Let’s move out,” said my father as he and my mother both opened their doors, letting a gust of icy, cold wind into the station wagon.
“Dad, would it be okay if Sally and I sat this one out?” said my sister Natalie. Both my sisters had taken the window seats, leaving me squished in the middle.
My father paused and looked back at Natalie, his face struck with utter disbelief.
“But…you…you…what? Why?” asked my father.
Natalie looked at Sally, her cheeks turning a bright red. She slouched down against the door and Sally began to laugh.
“Okay,” chuckled Sally. “I can’t take this. This is too funny! You see that boy over there, Dad?” Sally pointed to a boy of about her age standing next to a man and his wife. “That is Thomas Anderson. Natalie has the biggest crush on Thomas!”
“You jerk!” Natalie reached across me and punched Sally in the arm. My father looked towards my mother for some kind of help, but all he received was a shrug of the shoulders from her.
“I don’t care who has a crush on who, or which boy is the new hot stuff on the block. This is a family tradition and we’re not breaking it because someone is too embarrassed to be seen with their own family,” barked my father. He wasn’t a very aggressive man, but he could put his foot down when he needed to. “Now out of the car ladies.”
We all piled out and made our way over to the front desk where a man somewhat resembling Santa Clause was helping people net their trees.
“Hello Ed! How’s everything going so far,” yelled my mother as she went to give him a hug. My father shook Uncle Ed’s hand, and then turned toward my sisters and I. “Now you know the drill kiddos,” he said. “Go down the hill and play with the others while your mother and I pick out a tree. We’ll call you back up to get your approval.” He turned back towards my mother and Uncle Ed and they began to chat about how life had been over the past year.
Natalie, Sally, and I began walking down the hill when the boy, Thomas, started making his way down the hill as well. Sally began to giggle and whisper into Natalie’s ear, whose cheeks turned a bright crimson.
“Listen bud,” said Sally. “Our dear sister here has the potential to go out with a very cute guy and we feel that if you are present, those chances are going to go down the tube. So this is how it’s going to go down. You stay over there and play in the snow and we will stay over here and talk with the cute guy, alright?”
The way she said it made it seem like I didn’t have much of a choice, so I slowly trudged through the snow where a couple of other children who looked around my age were playing.
I sat all by myself in the snow for around twenty minutes. In the past, my sisters and I would have monstrous snow ball fights or make giant snowmen that no one could possibly outdo. But my sisters were in their first year of high school and were growing up. I could understand that.
I decided that I would try to make the biggest snowman that year all by myself, and went to work doing that. After about fifteen minutes, a girl with bouncy brown hair pulled back into a pony-tail came up to me.
“Hi! I’m Mollie! It looks like you need some help here. Mind if I join?”
I stood there speechless. My mother and father had always told me not to speak to strangers, and this girl was definitely a stranger. I turned my back toward her and kept on packing my snowman with snow.
I assume that she had assumed I was deaf and did not hear her, because she proceeded to yell into my ear, “MY NAME IS MOLLIE! DO YOU WANT ME TO HELP YOU?!”
“Will you leave me alone?!” I yelled at her. “Please just let me work on my snowman in peace!”
She jumped back at my sudden reaction to her. Mollie stood there looking at me. She didn’t cry or anything that most girls I had done that to before had done. Instead she shook her head and walked away. She stopped a few yards away and collapsed into the snow, making a snow angel with her arms and legs.
I shook my head and went back to my snowman. But just as I had turned back to my work, I heard it; the sound of cracking wood, and then a loud, thundering BOOM. People up on the hill began to shout, “MOVE! EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY!”
I looked around and saw everyone running up the hill. I couldn’t quite see what they were running from, so I decided to hold my position next to my poor excuse for a snowman. I kept working, but I continued to hear people yelling. It wasn’t until I heard my mother’s voice scream, “JAMES,” that I looked up ahead of me.
Charging at me was one bumbling, tumbling, runaway Christmas tree.
It is true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes as you are about to die. But for me, I was only ten years old, so there really wasn’t much of my life to flash. Instead I stood there motionless and watched as the tree came plummeting down the hill.
Then, out of nowhere, a flash of bouncing, brown hair barreled into my side and pushed me out of the way of the speeding tree. The Christmas tree kept on rolling down the hill until it landed with a splash in the river below.
Everyone on Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm began to clap and cheer. I could see my mother and father yelling at my two sisters at the top of the hill, and the boy standing next to his parents with a small girl at the mother’s side.
My attention turned to the figure that was still pinning me to the ground. As dazed and confused as I was, the figure appeared to be an angel with so much white, but I soon realized it was snow that she was covered by. Her bouncy, brown hair pulled into a pony tail fell over her shoulder as she turned back to me with a smile.
“Hi. My name is Mollie. I think you’re going to need some help.”
Boy was she right…
The day that this event occurred took place two days before the biggest day of the year for ten year old James Castle. James Castle is my name if you were wondering and, as a ten year old, Christmas was the most anticipated day of the year for me (next to my birthday that is). My father had woken us up bright and early; the “us” consisting of my mother, myself, and my older twin sisters Natalie and Sally. We were out the door and into our family station wagon without much trouble at all (which was a miracle considering that there were three females in our family). My sisters and I were used to the drive that we were taking. My mother and father had been going to Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm since before we were born. It was the same trip that we took every year two days before Christmas; over the river and though the hills, to Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm we went.
After about two hours and eight plays of my mother’s favorite Bing Crosby Celebrates the Holidays CD, we pulled into the makeshift dirt parking lot of Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm. Just passed the parking lot stood the most magnificent view a ten year old boy who loves Christmas could behold. Hundreds upon hundreds of Christmas trees of all different sizes stood waiting to be chopped down, netted up, and brought home for the best thing of all to be placed under them…presents. Along with all the snowy mountains surrounding the little Christmas tree haven, the whole scene was perfect for Christmas. It was as if Santa Clause himself, the big man, jolly ole St. Nick, could be patiently awaiting his moment over the hilltops.
“Alright troops! Let’s move out,” said my father as he and my mother both opened their doors, letting a gust of icy, cold wind into the station wagon.
“Dad, would it be okay if Sally and I sat this one out?” said my sister Natalie. Both my sisters had taken the window seats, leaving me squished in the middle.
My father paused and looked back at Natalie, his face struck with utter disbelief.
“But…you…you…what? Why?” asked my father.
Natalie looked at Sally, her cheeks turning a bright red. She slouched down against the door and Sally began to laugh.
“Okay,” chuckled Sally. “I can’t take this. This is too funny! You see that boy over there, Dad?” Sally pointed to a boy of about her age standing next to a man and his wife. “That is Thomas Anderson. Natalie has the biggest crush on Thomas!”
“You jerk!” Natalie reached across me and punched Sally in the arm. My father looked towards my mother for some kind of help, but all he received was a shrug of the shoulders from her.
“I don’t care who has a crush on who, or which boy is the new hot stuff on the block. This is a family tradition and we’re not breaking it because someone is too embarrassed to be seen with their own family,” barked my father. He wasn’t a very aggressive man, but he could put his foot down when he needed to. “Now out of the car ladies.”
We all piled out and made our way over to the front desk where a man somewhat resembling Santa Clause was helping people net their trees.
“Hello Ed! How’s everything going so far,” yelled my mother as she went to give him a hug. My father shook Uncle Ed’s hand, and then turned toward my sisters and I. “Now you know the drill kiddos,” he said. “Go down the hill and play with the others while your mother and I pick out a tree. We’ll call you back up to get your approval.” He turned back towards my mother and Uncle Ed and they began to chat about how life had been over the past year.
Natalie, Sally, and I began walking down the hill when the boy, Thomas, started making his way down the hill as well. Sally began to giggle and whisper into Natalie’s ear, whose cheeks turned a bright crimson.
“Listen bud,” said Sally. “Our dear sister here has the potential to go out with a very cute guy and we feel that if you are present, those chances are going to go down the tube. So this is how it’s going to go down. You stay over there and play in the snow and we will stay over here and talk with the cute guy, alright?”
The way she said it made it seem like I didn’t have much of a choice, so I slowly trudged through the snow where a couple of other children who looked around my age were playing.
I sat all by myself in the snow for around twenty minutes. In the past, my sisters and I would have monstrous snow ball fights or make giant snowmen that no one could possibly outdo. But my sisters were in their first year of high school and were growing up. I could understand that.
I decided that I would try to make the biggest snowman that year all by myself, and went to work doing that. After about fifteen minutes, a girl with bouncy brown hair pulled back into a pony-tail came up to me.
“Hi! I’m Mollie! It looks like you need some help here. Mind if I join?”
I stood there speechless. My mother and father had always told me not to speak to strangers, and this girl was definitely a stranger. I turned my back toward her and kept on packing my snowman with snow.
I assume that she had assumed I was deaf and did not hear her, because she proceeded to yell into my ear, “MY NAME IS MOLLIE! DO YOU WANT ME TO HELP YOU?!”
“Will you leave me alone?!” I yelled at her. “Please just let me work on my snowman in peace!”
She jumped back at my sudden reaction to her. Mollie stood there looking at me. She didn’t cry or anything that most girls I had done that to before had done. Instead she shook her head and walked away. She stopped a few yards away and collapsed into the snow, making a snow angel with her arms and legs.
I shook my head and went back to my snowman. But just as I had turned back to my work, I heard it; the sound of cracking wood, and then a loud, thundering BOOM. People up on the hill began to shout, “MOVE! EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY!”
I looked around and saw everyone running up the hill. I couldn’t quite see what they were running from, so I decided to hold my position next to my poor excuse for a snowman. I kept working, but I continued to hear people yelling. It wasn’t until I heard my mother’s voice scream, “JAMES,” that I looked up ahead of me.
Charging at me was one bumbling, tumbling, runaway Christmas tree.
It is true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes as you are about to die. But for me, I was only ten years old, so there really wasn’t much of my life to flash. Instead I stood there motionless and watched as the tree came plummeting down the hill.
Then, out of nowhere, a flash of bouncing, brown hair barreled into my side and pushed me out of the way of the speeding tree. The Christmas tree kept on rolling down the hill until it landed with a splash in the river below.
Everyone on Uncle Ed’s Christmas Tree Farm began to clap and cheer. I could see my mother and father yelling at my two sisters at the top of the hill, and the boy standing next to his parents with a small girl at the mother’s side.
My attention turned to the figure that was still pinning me to the ground. As dazed and confused as I was, the figure appeared to be an angel with so much white, but I soon realized it was snow that she was covered by. Her bouncy, brown hair pulled into a pony tail fell over her shoulder as she turned back to me with a smile.
“Hi. My name is Mollie. I think you’re going to need some help.”
Boy was she right…
TO BE CONTINUED...
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