Short Story: Mr Pollard's Tree

Short Story: Mr Pollard's Tree

This piece has not been edited by the ShortbreadStories team.

"Hi Mom. Are you hurting again? You’ll feel better soon as the storm passes. You usually do. Sorry I cannot come right over, I have the window washer here, the house is open and they say in the news that we have about four days of rain again."

"Yes, I told you not to send me a plateful of brownies. I ate them all yesterday. What else did I eat? I don’t want to gain any weight, well yes I had milk with a couple. How? I just grazed on them all day, and no they didn’t make me sick. Slept like a baby."

"Hold on, Mom, while I pay Chester off. He finished the windows outside a few minutes ago and had his lunch in his truck. Yes, he’s nice. I baked gingerbread while he worked and gave him a couple of squares with milk. He really liked them."

"So, what am I doing the rest of the day? Well, it’s like this, when the windows were done I could see the dust, so now I have that to do, and I am laundering the curtains. It’s really nice to see out. Mr Pollard’s tree is leafing out and I think there’s a bird’s nest of Robins up there. Yes, mom, the tree with that branch against my house."

"Hasn’t he done anything about it yet? No, Mom, he’ll do it only when forced I think."

" — Listen, Mom, the wind is getting up, I think. It’s okay, I am on the cordless, I have to go close up the windows. There, got them all except the . . . What was that crash? I don’t know. Have to see."

"Mother . . .Mother, I have to hang up now. I’ll call you later. No, nothing serious. The wind is up and the rain is here on my clean windows. Bye Mom."

"Hello, Mrs. Pollard, may I speak to Mr. Pollard? Why do I want to speak to him? I need to tell him that his tree branch just flew through my window and is now laying across my dinning table, the rain is soaking everything and there is a bird’s nest on the floor with Robin babies begging for food, two angry parents flying around my dinning room, attacking me — Thanks, that’s kind of you."

"Mr. Pollard, Gavin —your tree, you know? Well, I think you need to come and put the nest back up in the tree and then call the remover, the carpet cleaner, and the glass company. That’s right. No sir, it cannot wait, and I am unable to get all that taken care of with this broken ankle. Besides it wasn’t my tree that moved in. Fine, and please hurry. Call your insurance adjuster later, if you please. I do not intend to suffer more damage than necessary.

"Thanks, Gavin. The door is open. I will expect you in ten minutes, raincoat and boots or not."