By wierdgrace
My husband, Gregg, was a lumberjack, one of the best around. Because of that fact the company he worked for sent us deep into the Oregon timber country. Even though it was twenty miles from the nearest town, it was a beautiful spot.
We had a three room cabin to make our home in. It was slightly run down when we arrived. After six months I had cleared the brush from around the cabin, planted flowers and plants, and it soon became inhabitable and enjoyable to look at.
We knew, his job here was going to last for a long time. I could not repress a feeling of personal satisfaction in all I had accomplished and Gregg's expressed pride in the fact that I had made "something from nothing."
One Wednesday morning I rose as usual at five o'clock to prepare breakfast and a lunch for Gregg to take with him. I had to call him when it was ready, which was unusual, as he always was up on his own as soon as the aroma drifted in from the coffee brewer.
That morning he turned over, grunted, arose slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, scratching, and replied, "I really feel beat. I have picked a rash of some kind, and it won't stop itching.
I lit the lamp and went close, peering over at him. To my horror, he was covered with little red marks.
He inspected them and remarked, "Well, what do you know? I have a fine dose of poison oak, for the first time in my life!" He groaned.
"Am I ever gonna be miserable today! We are clearing a spot to build storage shacks, to put our equipment in, instead of carrying a lot of it with us every day --- and it's right in the hot sun!"
"I know, dear," I replied gently, and handed him a tube of Aloe Vera.
He spread it over his body, knees and arms. He handed it back so I could put it on his back. Then he ate, picked up his lunch, thanked me, and left for work.
For the next few days life went along in the usual pattern, although I noticed that Gregg was tired at night. By the end of the day, the red marks were almost invisible. I told him, "that was fast, never saw poison oak heal so quickly."
"Oh, I'm just healthy," he replied, laughing.
| Author Notes | Old Redeye, thank you for the Artwork, |
By wierdgrace
A week went by. The red marks were completely gone, but Gregg seemed listless and would drop into bed as soon as he arrived home.
The close relationship we had known in the past seemed to disappear. He quit bringing his friends and co-workers home. Twice during past weeks he refused to get up and go to work.
One day, three weeks after the poison oak event, he came over to the sink to get a drink of water. I noticed his height seemed off.
I was about five foot, four inches, and he was five feet, eight or nine inches. He was husky and had weighed one hundred and seventy-five pounds for years.
I said, "Gregg, what in the world is happening to you? It looks like you are shrinking; look, you are the same height as I am now, and I have noticed you look like you are losing weight too."
He glared at me and said, in a tremolo voice, "Mind your own business," and walked out of the room irritated. It was the first time in our marriage he had ever had acted that way towards me. I knew something terrible was happening to my husband.
That was the last day Gregg went to work. When he came home that night, there was no, "Hello, dear."
At the bedroom door he brushed past me, threw himself on the bed and just lay there. I noticed that his pant legs were turned up at the ankles. Now his clothing seem to hang loose upon him.. I walked in and he just laid there.
His eyes were closed, and the pallor of his face was startling, with a light green cast shining from his skin.
He always had a rapidly growing beard and I had noticed for the past few days he had not shaved, yet his face was devoid of whiskers.
I walked over to the bed and said, "Honey, we had better drive into town and see a doctor; I think something is wrong. You look terrible."
Gregg jumped up like a mad man and screamed at me in a high tremolo voice, "Get out of here! I don't need a doctor. All I want right now is peace and quiet, away from you!"
He picked up an ashtray from the night stand, that we used to put change in, and with all his might, threw it at me.
It hit me on the cheek. I fell back a step and clutched my face. He just seemed to collapse, and sank back into the bed as before.
With tears on my face, I went into the kitchen and held a cold wash cloth to my cheek, where a large lump was forming.
It seemed impossible that such a terrible thing was happening to us; he always had been such a cheerful and loving husband, never a harsh word. He never once had committed a violent act like this to anyone, especially to me.
| Author Notes | first draft, hope you are enjoying, thank you willie, great art |
By wierdgrace
I was afraid. I felt the panic arising in me. We had an old pickup truck which was sitting in the yard.
I never had learned to drive, but I thought, "Gregg doesn't know what he is doing. Maybe the poison oak has turned inward and affected his mind."
Still, I was unable to understand his shrinking.
I was about out of my mind with worry and fear; so distracted, I was unable to decide what to do, yet I knew I must do something fast, before my husband dies, as I could see him fading before my eyes.
I picked up the truck keys lying on the table, went out, climbed in and turned the key, then stepped on the pedal. Just then the door flew open --- and there stood Gregg.
His eyes were red and furious. He reached in, pulled me bodily from the truck and threw me on the ground. Then he turned off the motor and put the keys in his pocket.
As I lay on the ground he stood over me, with a truly murderous expression on his face; I was petrified.
In a voice quivering with hate, he threatened me, "If you ever try to take my truck, or resist me in any way, I will kill you!" He raised his foot and kicked me as I lay there.
Pain was throughout my body. I couldn't move if I wanted too. I even had trouble breathing.
With a quick turn he left me lying there and re-entered the house.
I picked myself up, slowly, brushed the dirt off and slowly, with tears streaming down my face, went back into the house. As usual Gregg had gone into the bedroom, but I noted that as he had passed through, he kicked a chair which was lying in a broken heap in one corner of the room.
The phone was broken, and I couldn't find my cell phone. Not sure if I would have called the police at that point. I was scared.
I was afraid to sleep in the same bed with him. He didn't leave the bedroom to so much as eat. I lay on the couch; my eyes swollen yet open all night.
| Author Notes | first draft working on edits at night, thank you for your patience. |
By wierdgrace
At every sound I heard from the bedroom, I jumped to a sitting position in alarm. I must have dropped off in a sound sleep toward the morning, then awoke with a start, for when I looked around I saw that the bedroom door was open. I walked over and looked in. The bed was empty!
With my heart pounding madly, I looked out the front window. The sight that met my eyes was unbelievable. My husband was standing by the walk in the front yard, holding handfuls of dirt to his face, licking and eating it. He closed his eyes, raised his head skyward and licked his lips, like he had just enjoyed a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.
He then went over to the well, drank water out of a bucket then poured more over his head and body. His trousers, which had fitted him perfectly, were dragging on the ground; he looked like a boy about eight years old, dressed in his father's clothing.
Suddenly he turned and started toward the house. I ran back, lay down and closed my eyes. I could hear him enter, and then I heard the bedroom door close. For the rest of the morning all was quiet until Jim, the straw boss, stopped by that afternoon.
When I saw his truck coming I ran out to meet him, so glad and thankful that someone was here to tell. Jim stopped and got out of his truck.
"Hi Trisha, how is Gregg today?"
I burst into tears.
Jim looked at Trisha confused. What is wrong? Is Gregg worse?"
Jim was a six foot-four, husky, red head, strong man. But, right then his face was snow white, causing his freckles to show up prominently.
He repeated, "Is it Gregg?"
I was crying so hard, I couldn't speak. Nothing would come out but my tears.
Suddenly a voice roared from the house, "Trisha! Come into this house immediately! Don't pay any attention to her, Jim. She is all upset because I won't go to the doctor. It's this dam poison oak. I'll be all right by next Monday. See you at work."
Jim stood there, looking at me, and then toward the house, waiting to see if Gregg was going to come to the door. He didn't know what he should do.
I took a breath, "Please Jim, don't leave! I am scared. Look at me." Tears were still running down my face.
Gregg yelled again, "Trisha, I said, Come in here now. I need you."
Jim said, "Anything I can help you with Gregg?"
"No thank you Jim, Trisha is all I need right now. See you Monday."
Jim, with a sheepish look, said, "See you later, Trisha. Call me if you or Gregg needs anything."
He stepped into the truck and as he drove off, yelled back at Gregg. "Take it easy, ole man. We have everything under control at the job, so get over this. See you soon."
| Author Notes | What is next... |
By wierdgrace
I was petrified to enter the house.
Gregg's head could not be seen from the window or door. I puttered around my flowers for a while and then silently went in. I saw where Gregg had put a chair up to the window, and stood on it to make himself appear tall. But, I don't think Jim seen him anyway.
After that no one stopped at the house. After a week, Gregg was only two feet tall. I thought, he can't hurt me now, but still, afraid to leave. He still could be strong as an ox.
I heard the moving of a chair in the bedroom one morning. I had been sleeping on the sofa at night. I opened my eyes and watch as he came out. He had wrapped a towel around himself and was on his way out to fill up on the dirt, which he ate steadily then.
I had sneaked into the bedroom each morning, when he went out the door, and hurriedly searched for the truck keys, but to no avail. I couldn't find our cell phones either. He would be out only a few minutes, so I was afraid and unable to search thoroughly. This went on for days.
I hoped when he failed to go to work on Monday, that Jim would come back. I felt sure that since my husband had become so small, he would not come out again.
Monday passed, and the following Wednesday, I lay waiting for Gregg to come out of the bedroom. This time I was going to try and speak to him.
It had been hours since daylight, and still no Gregg. I heard no sound, so I went to the kitchen and decided to cook pancakes. It was the only food left; all the meat had been used, and I couldn't go out to shop. Previously, Gregg and I went to town on Friday night, and replenished our kitchen.
I choked my pancake down; as I knew I needed to keep up my strength, for whatever was to happen next. I felt like a prisoner. Was I losing my mind? I had, for the past few days, spent the entire time in my garden; anything to keep from thinking about the unnatural scene going on in our home.
At eleven o'clock that morning, I could endure it no longer. I sneaked up to the bedroom door and stood with my ear against it for a few minutes. There was no sound, so with my heart in my mouth it seemed, I silently opened the door.
I rubbed my eyes and looked again. The bed was empty and Gregg was gone!
| Author Notes | first draft. danjaavoo. thank you for your picture. |
By wierdgrace
I had not slept at all that night. When I was tired during the day I slept in a chair in front of the only door leading to the outside, in case he tried to go out. I knew he could not have left the house.
At first, I was calm. I looked under the bed, in each corner and on the floor. I even picked up the clothing he had been wearing, and shook them.
Then I became frantic and called out, "Gregg, honey? Where are you?"
I dashed all through the house. Nothing but silence met my ears. Outside, the sun was shining and birds were singing. It was as if I were in a different world. It seemed as though I could feel evil in every corner.
I still had some coffee left. I made a pot and sat down at the kitchen table to try to collect my wits and calm down. Soon I got up and decided to go back into the bedroom. Halfway there I heard a truck pull up. Thank God.
Oh, the joy and relief in my heart! It was Jim, and that time my words piled out nervously as I related the entire tale to him.
He stood there looking at me, like he thought I was demented, but in a manner that seem to say he would humor me for now.
He let me pull him into the house and bedroom, then agreed, "Well, you're right; Gregg doesn't seem to be here, but I think Trisha, I better take you into town, to see the doctor."
"Jim, I know all this sounds fantastic, but it is the truth! There is nothing the matter with me, but you sure can take me into town. I never want to see this house again."
Jim humored me by helping me pack a few belongings. I climbed into the truck, not looking back.
We pulled up to the police station, and I told them as I did Jim. And of course, got the same reaction. No one believed one word I said. I have to admit, I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't lived it.
"I don't care what any of you think. It happened. Think about it, where is Gregg, and Jim, did you see him the first time you came by? Do you remember how bruised I was?"
Then Jim spoke. "Gregg had been working for them for a while. He was nothing but a cheerful person and it was a pleasure for all the rest of the men to work with him. Nothing bothered him, and no job was too big for him to tackle," he declared. "He had raised the morale of all the other lumberjacks, but after the poison oak ordeal he had changed completely."
Jim said he had thought it was because of the miserable itching caused from the plant. He related how he had come to the house, the time before, and how I cried, and Gregg called out to him seemed to make everything normal in every way. He wished he had stayed and talked to him personally.
"Officers, could you put out a missing person report, please. You can check out the house if you want, as I am not going back."
| Author Notes | first draft, sorry so long, thank you debbie johnson for the picture. |
By wierdgrace
I rented a room for a week in town at a bed and breakfast. I promised Jim and the police I would see a doctor twice a week and I did as long as they wanted.
Meanwhile the police started a search for Gregg.
The third day, Saturday, the Chief of Police came to the bed and breakfast and asked if I would mind going to our home with them, as they were going to conduct a sear there. As Chief Brooks was speaking to me, Jim entered the room. He was off work over the weekend and drove into town to see how I was and how the search was developing. It was a relief when he offered to go along with me.
The police searched all around the cabin, outside for hundred yards or more, and in every imaginable place. There were no foot prints or broken bushes of any kind. Rabbits and lizards scurried out of the way as they entered the forest on all sides.
Jim and I went into the cabin and I made a pot of coffee for the police and all the others when they finished their search. I was so thankful that Jim was with me; he kept up a cheerful conversation to occupy my mind and keep my nerves from giving out.
The police were still looking outside when Jim said. "Trisha, let's really give that bedroom a going over, again,"
I answered that I had done so, but agreed, "I think I'll take everything off this bed," I said, "and wash the covers and sheets later."
I pulled the colored Indian blanket and the spread off, and threw back the sheet. There in the center of the bed lay, of all things an acorn! Beside it lay the keys to the truck.
I stared, then looked up at Jim and said, "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think that acorn is my husband!"
Jim laughed his hearty roar, and said, "Okay, Trish, get that thought out of your head. I'll admit I think you are telling the truth on all the other happenings, but there is a natural explanation for all of this. Gregg is sick all right and it must have affected his mind, but he just took off some place. The police will find him. Your thinking he was shrinking must have been just a mental break because you were so worried. You know the doctors told you, you are in an extremely nervous state and exhausted by loss of sleep and proper eating."
That was all true and I accepted his word. Later, the police came in and searched the rest of the house, once again. The found nothing and laughed about the acorn. I picked it up and put it on the shelf above the fireplace, but the keys to the truck went into my purse. They found the cell phones broken, under our mattress.
The police took the phones and other things into town to have analyzed. They told me it would take a few days, as they did not have the equipment here, so it would be sent out of town. I wanted to know what happened. I knew that were all looking at me like I was nuts.
All of us left the house, and went back into town. I had no money problems at the time as Gregg had been very conservative. We had a good savings account at the bank amounting to a few thousand dollars, and Jim brought me Gregg's last two week check.
I stayed at the boarding house for a week, but began to be lonesome for my little log cabin and my flowers. No word was heard from Gregg and the police could find no trace or unearth anything to solve the mystery. At one time I think the FBI believed I had something to do with it. Since Jim saw the bruising the day he stopped by, they concluded that Gregg just left. Dogs searched the property for miles, and found no remains, or dirt that had been loosen. So the never filed any charges.
| Author Notes | irondog, thank you for the picture |
By wierdgrace
Jim made the fifty mile trip from his job twice that week. I was beginning to lean on him and told him how I missed my home and longed to return to it.
He pointed out to me that if Gregg had become crazed, and I was alone at the cabin it might be dangerous.
"You should not be there alone." Jim pointed out.
I could see the sense in that and decided to try to get another woman to go with me. Jim had an elderly aunt quite near and promised to talk to her about it.
Meanwhile he said, "How about me teaching you to drive that truck? You need transportation, living this far out of town."
I agreed and a week later, with his Aunt Dee, who was a cheerful old lady of seventy two, was as enthusiastic over flowers as I was. She just beamed and exclaimed over everything. What a difference it was to return home that time!
We snacked, and sat outside in the beautiful summer evening before Jim left, and she and I retired. We both slept in the bedroom and all my nervousness disappeared with her there to keep my spirits up.
The next few days were extremely pleasant. We both worked in the garden or she would sit in the rocking chair and rest, while I weeded my flower beds, and reminisced on her past life. The stories she told kept me laughing and happy.
Aunt Dee had been there a week when my eye spotted the acorn, still lying above the fireplace. I picked it up and said to her, "I don't know where this thing came from, but I'm going to plant it."
The next morning, about three feet from the side of the house, I place it carefully into the ground.
Meanwhile Jim came over every evening for dinner. He was working about fifteen miles from the cabin, where they were peeling poles. That is, peeling the bark and getting them ready to send them to the lumber yards.
We cooked good hot nourished meals and looked forward to his arrival every evening. I could tell, after Aunt Dee had been there three weeks, she was beginning to miss her own home and friends. Besides, she belonged to some clubs in town which she wished to return too.
I told Aunt Dee there was no reason for her to stay as I was all right and would have to decide what I wanted to do with my life as my money, with none coming in, would not last forever.
The morning before she left, we were out, as usual, looking at the flowers and all the new ones that were blooming
I said, "See, Aunt Dee, that acorn is growing!"
There it was, just peeking out of the ground. I watered it, and tenderly loosened the dirt around it.
| Author Notes | this is first draft, most likely errors, rushed to post. Thank you for the picture, JosephGilbert |
By wierdgrace
Jim arrived early Saturday morning. Aunt Dee was packed and ready to go home. With her she took some plants, which I gave her from my yard. I stood there, watching them go and with a sinking heart.
After they were out of sight I quickly went inside and decided to do some house cleaning. I wanted to keep myself busy so not to get that lonely feeling.
I worked all that day and found some paint Gregg had bought months before, to paint the cupboards in the kitchen. Right then I decided that was what I would do the next day.
Sunday morning I arose early, as usual, and walked outside. My eyes widened and I trembled all over. The old fright came over me quickly! The acorn tree had grown to a height of three feet overnight. It looked like a three year old tree.
Its branches were thickly covered with leaves and it reached far out on all sides. I was afraid to go near it. I felt some kind of fear coming from the tree itself.
I know Jim would not be by that day as he was spending the weekend with his aunt and would leave early Monday morning, form her home to go to work.
I decided to water all my flowers, as I did regularly, as I did the tree seemed to lean toward me wherever I went. By afternoon it was over five feet tall.
Its branches had grown out till it had reached the house and rubbed against the window. It was as if it were watching me.
I was beginning to get terrified, but I decided that even if I could drive the truck I would refuse to leave the house. I am a stubborn mortal and became sure that the tree was my husband coming back.
I knew if I told anyone, they would commit me. After all the fuss I had caused in town only just a few weeks before.
| Author Notes | I know this is very rough, I used 'I' way too much, will fix, but wanted to keep this book going. thank u |
By wierdgrace
People in town still looked askance at me. Sometimes I even felt they thought I had done something to my husband. The police had cleared me of all suspicion, and marked the case Missing and Unknown.
This time, just in case of anything being unnatural, I was going to be sure and have proof before I told anyone anything.
That night I sat in the living room reading. The tree, which was up over the house by then, moaned and groaned, as the wind blew through its leaves and it kept brushing against the window.
It sounded just like someone knocking to get in. I could not sit there long, so I went to bed, but I still could hear the wind moaning through that darn tree.
What sleep I got was filled with nightmares. I awoke three or four times in the night, sat up in bed with a start, thinking my husband was trying to strangle me.
Monday morning I arose and looked out the window to find I was now the owner of a completely grown tree.
Its trunk was gnarled and twisted as though it was a thousand years old. The branches reached low to the ground in all directions. One sturdy, thick branch completely covered the roof of the house from end to end.
I was extremely careful not to get near it. It has eyes that were watching every move I made. I knew that Jim would be there that evening for dinner, so I had proof, as a grown tree does not spring up overnight. I decided to have him cut it down, but first I wished to bring the police back to see it for themselves.
That is if Jim believes it will help.
At five-thirty that afternoon I heard Jim's truck coming, and ran out the door. One branch of the tree reached out for me. I gasped and avoided it, barely.
Jim drove in to the yard, jumped out and saw what had not been there before, as he well knew.
"What the heck is that?" He asked astonished, and you can see he was as surprised as I was when I saw it.
I said, "That is the tiny plant I showed you Saturday before you left with Aunt Dee. In fact, it is the acorn that we found in the bed. I told you then it was my husband. Now I know it is! I am not crazy, Jim, look at that thing."
Jim stood there, looking at it and talking, more to himself than me. "It's amazing. How could it get so big so quickly? Why, if I didn't know there was no tree around this cabin before, I would swear it was a hundred years old."
He walked all around it.
I quickly screamed at him, "For God sake Jim, don't get to close to it!"
But it was too late, for the tree reached out and caught him in its branches, raised him high in the air, and dashed him to the ground. He lay there all curled up and not moving. It looked like his neck was broken.
| Author Notes | rough, very rough, have to go but wanted to post these two chapters, I will edit tonight, thank you for reading |
By wierdgrace
My screams could have been heard for miles if anyone had been that near. With tears running down my face, I ran over to see if he was alive. A branch hit me, and sent me rolling over and over, out of reach.
I was angry by this time. I leaped up, all scratched and bleeding, and pulled the truck keys out of my apron pocket. I had kept them on my person ever since the tree had reached its enormous growth.
I jumped into the truck and took off, being obliged to go within a few feet of the tree to get out of the year. But, it caught the right side of the truck.
I pushed on the gas pedal and the truck almost turned over, but I was free and the truck still ran. I made it to town in record time, pulled up in front of the police station and dashed in.
I must have looked like a mad woman for my hair was flying, I was filthy dirty, and bleeding.
I yelled, "My husband, the tree, it killed Jim! I couldn't reach him. It almost go me too."
The police Sargent took my arm, let me to a seat, and tried to calm me down.
"Don't you understand? Come with me to the cabin, quick, and I will show you that Jim is either dead or dying. I will tell you what happened on the way out there."
For once, no one argued with me. Two policemen and I headed back out there, while I told them about planting the acorn, and what had happened since. The Sargent turned on his radio and told them to stand by, as they might need more help any minute, and to send an ambulance and another car.
We pulled up to the cabin, and all was as I left it. The tree seemed quiet, and Jim lay in the same position.
The sergeant announced over the radio just what he had seen, and said, "We're going to check on Jim. He look's unconscious, or not breathing."
"Be careful; that tree can move fast and viciously."
Before we had arrived there, they had seen the tree in the distance from the road and had exclaimed about it. They knew it was not there when they had searched the premises a few weeks before.
They walked slowly, calling Jim's name, as they neared him. When Nick, the head officer, got within three feet of Jim, the tree raised a branch, and knocked him fifteen feet away.
He tried to get up and called, "My leg is broken!"
The other officer ran to the car radio. Within half an hour the yard was filled with police and an ambulance. Everyone was trying to figure out how to get Jim away from the tree.
The doctor said, "I'm sure he is not alive, as from the position of his body I'd say his neck is broken."
They finally used a rope and lassoed one of his feet. They were obliged to try many times before they succeeded, as the tree caught the rope, twisted it and moaned so all could hear it plainly.
It was horrible, but they finally got Jim from the reach of the giant oak. However, he was defiantly died.
The Chief said, "I don't know what happened here, but I don't what to take any chances on anymore of my men getting injured. If it's all right with you, Trish, we'll set fire and burn the whole place down. It's the most astonishing thing I have ever seen in all my years on the police force."
I said, "You're right; I don't care if you burn it."
They set fire to the torches and threw them from a distance onto the tree and the house. The moans from the tree were terrible. I clapped my hands over my ears, but still could hear them.
A fire engine was standing by as the tree kept tossing the torches away, and the fire broke out in all directions. At last, the mighty oak fell with a heartrending moan. It counted as if a body were lying on the ground and suffering from the flames.
I stood there with tears streaming down my face, as I watched the death throes of the mighty tree. Tree? That was my husband!
I was on the verge of collapse, so they took me to town, and I was under a doctor's care for weeks. As soon as I was able, I drew what was left of my husband's money from the bank, and went to my parents' home in New York.
If I live to be a hundred I will never forget my husband --- the tree!
So what was that rash on Gregg's face? Why an acorn?... Why a tree? Well that is fantasy and fiction, If one must explain, it could be said that poison oak which Gregg contacted chanted the chemical process in his body and caused him to shrink. Or...
This is not the end here, I am still working on this story...
| Author Notes | This is not the full ending, I am writing it now, so I what to stop here, I know this ending is not good, trying to give it more body... and suspense. |
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