Non-Automated Biography
Tree House
It was in the woods, strangely dark for the afternoon.
The trees loomed over us knowingly, like they might have something to tell us.
We were running full tilt down the trail.
"Betcha can't chop through that," Bobby screamed.
I slid to a stop and turned to see what he was pointing at.
It was huge.
Being a boy, I screamed the only response to a challenge I knew,
"Can too!"
I heaved the little hatchet I was carrying and wailed into the huge oak. It let out little sighs while I chopped like I was mad.
The air smelled sharper for the exposed flesh, and it was only Wednesday.
What was worse was the dent I made. It was barely noticeable.
I knew it would last.
But I chopped till I felt like a desperate rat and then let my arms hang down, glaring at it.
Bobby looked at my effort and then at me like I was a failure.
"Gimme that," he said.
And he went into the same craze that had driven me. There was a need to prove something. Neither of us had any idea what.
After twenty minutes worth of whacks, the dent wasn't much bigger. Bobby looked over at me and I could see the rage in his eyes.
I fumbled in my back pocket and pulled out the two cigarettes I had swiped from my moms purse, hoping she wouldn't miss them. Bobby's eyes softened as he reached for one and asked for a match. That made it worth the risk even if she did.
"You ever had one of these before?" I asked.
"Yah, sure," Bobby said. He eyed the smoldering cigarette briefly and with caution.
After that, our eyes didn't separate. We stayed locked and brought the smoking thing up to our lips deliberately.
We sucked in deep because we had to.
It's hard to say who choked first but we were both teary eyed and hacking like we swallowed a cat by the time the smoke hit the back of our lungs.
I don't think I ever laughed harder than that, after I remembered how to breathe.
"YOU LIE!! You aint ever done this before!" I jeered proudly.
"Bullshit!" He yelled. "Like you have."
It was a bright smile that Bobby wore. We layed in the leaves for hours.
Afterwards we talked about building a tree house in the big oak, how we might be able to steal a hammer from his dad.
It seemed like a promising idea.
Maybe tomorrow, we would.
It was in the woods, strangely dark for the afternoon.
The trees loomed over us knowingly, like they might have something to tell us.
We were running full tilt down the trail.
"Betcha can't chop through that," Bobby screamed.
I slid to a stop and turned to see what he was pointing at.
It was huge.
Being a boy, I screamed the only response to a challenge I knew,
"Can too!"
I heaved the little hatchet I was carrying and wailed into the huge oak. It let out little sighs while I chopped like I was mad.
The air smelled sharper for the exposed flesh, and it was only Wednesday.
What was worse was the dent I made. It was barely noticeable.
I knew it would last.
But I chopped till I felt like a desperate rat and then let my arms hang down, glaring at it.
Bobby looked at my effort and then at me like I was a failure.
"Gimme that," he said.
And he went into the same craze that had driven me. There was a need to prove something. Neither of us had any idea what.
After twenty minutes worth of whacks, the dent wasn't much bigger. Bobby looked over at me and I could see the rage in his eyes.
I fumbled in my back pocket and pulled out the two cigarettes I had swiped from my moms purse, hoping she wouldn't miss them. Bobby's eyes softened as he reached for one and asked for a match. That made it worth the risk even if she did.
"You ever had one of these before?" I asked.
"Yah, sure," Bobby said. He eyed the smoldering cigarette briefly and with caution.
After that, our eyes didn't separate. We stayed locked and brought the smoking thing up to our lips deliberately.
We sucked in deep because we had to.
It's hard to say who choked first but we were both teary eyed and hacking like we swallowed a cat by the time the smoke hit the back of our lungs.
I don't think I ever laughed harder than that, after I remembered how to breathe.
"YOU LIE!! You aint ever done this before!" I jeered proudly.
"Bullshit!" He yelled. "Like you have."
It was a bright smile that Bobby wore. We layed in the leaves for hours.
Afterwards we talked about building a tree house in the big oak, how we might be able to steal a hammer from his dad.
It seemed like a promising idea.
Maybe tomorrow, we would.
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