The Swamp Tree

The Henning boys walked through the heifer pasture in search of a new adventure. The backlash from their recent creek damming activities was enough to push them in a different direction for the time being. However, it wouldn't be long before they found their way back into the shallow water of the pasture creek. On this day however, they looked elsewhere for entertainment. 

They were on their way towards a large deformed willow tree that laid in the middle of the pasture. The tree in question was highly unusual. The tree grew in the middle of a wet spot in the pasture where the soil never really dried out. As a result of the softer soil, the tree had failed to grow in the traditional upright manner. Several trunk-like branches grew from a central source but none of them grew straight up as one would expect of a tree. They all turned and seemed to lay across the ground instead. The tree was definitely alive, but the soil in which it grew lacked the structural properties required for more traditional growth patterns. 

The boys didn't mind the weirdness of the willow tree. Do to the trees unique nature and relative isolation in it's wet location, the boys had named it the swamp tree and they spent a lot of time playing on the swamp tree. Regular trees were a lot of fun, but they were fairly limited canvasses for the young imaginations of the children and they posed certain risks due the height of the structurally sound branches. A regular tree might become a castle tower or a light house but more often than not, the tree remained only a tree while the environment around it changed. For instance, many of Prince Johns lackeys had fallen prey to the arrows of Robin Hood's men as they made their way through the dangerous paths of Sherwood Forest. The trees of the forest provided the perfect vantage points for the men's constant struggle on behalf of the oppressed and poverty-stricken peasants against the minions of the greedy prince.

The swamp tree was different. The unique shape of the tree allowed so many more options for the boys. The fact that the tree grew primarily horizontal to the ground also decreased the risk of injury when the boys inevitably lost their footing as they played. The swamp tree could still be used as a tree. The imaginations of the children could easily add a tall trunk to the base of the tree and have the branches on which they played exist well above the ground on which their enemies walked. However, the swamp tree more often became anything from a pirate ship to a skyscraper. There were any number of island scenarios that became available to the boys due to the soggy nature of the ground around the swamp tree. Lava scenarios were also an option, though that one more or less broke down when the boys slipped off the tree and got their feet wet. 

The boys each carried their slab wood rifles as they jumped from one solid clump of grass to the next until they finally reached the tree. The children in the Henning family were not allowed to have toy guns because their mother was not comfortable with her children growing up with a flippant view of firearms. Therefore, the boys had to improvise in their imagination supplementation. A slab wood rifle was a throw-away piece of wood that the boys had pulled from the slab pile up by the heifer barn. The piece of wood was usually three or four feet long. The piece was narrow at one end and wide at the other due to the shape of the log from which it had been cut. The narrow end of the piece was the barrel and the wide end was the stock of the rifle. The boys would usually use their pocket knives to enhance the shapes of their rifles and would usually add a nail to stand in for a trigger and another as the site. 

Upon taking their places on their ship, the young seamen were almost immediately attacked by pirates. They fought bravely, shooting as many of their attackers as they could before their vessel was breached. At that point, they were unable to reload their rifles and were forced to cast them aside in favor of weapons more appropriate to the close combat situation. They drew their cutlasses from their scabbards and fought their way through the droves of grisly pirates who sought to take their tree...um, I mean ship. They tossed daggers to each other just in the nick of time and made it a habit to draw pistols from the belts of their enemies and use the weapons against the owners whenever possible. The battle was epic. The three strong sailors stood back to back to back and fought bravely. Many a buccaneer fell by their swords before they suffered first casualty. The youngest member of the three man crew lost his footing and fell from the ship. They tossed him a rope as he thrashed in the waves (stood calf deep in the mud) as they continued to fight off their attackers.

“Um,” their companion interjected. “I think I'm stuck.”

“Here,” the first mate responded as he held out his hand. “Grab my hand!”

The fallen sailor obliged but remained unable to rejoin the battle.

“Um, Caleb,” Scott addressed his captain. “He's really stuck. We can't get him out.”

“Oh,” Caleb responded as the ship morphed back into a tree and the pirates disappeared. “Here Luke, grab my hand to.”

Luke held tightly to his brothers' hands as they pulled as hard as they could to no avail. Luke remained a captive of the swamp. After a few more tries, he decided to leave his boot in the mud as he climbed back onto the swamp tree with one foot only clad in a white crew sock.

“Well, now what?” Caleb inquired of his brothers. “We can't just leave your boot out here. Mom and Dad will not be happy about that.”

“We could try to pull it out now,” Scott suggested. “Maybe it'll come out since Luke's foot isn't in it anymore.” 

He knelt down on the tree and held his left out towards his older brother. Caleb took his hand and applied appropriate weight away from his brother. Scott leaned forward and grabbed the boot and pulled. He grip slipped from the boot causing both boys to jerk and wobble. They swayed back and forth until they regained their balance.

“Whoa,” Caleb exclaimed. “Let's try not to do that again.”

“Seriously,” Scott agreed. “I can't keep a tight enough grip. I thought I felt it coming loose, but I couldn't hold on.”

“Do you have your pocket knife with the pliers?” Caleb inquired as Luke sheepishly stood by.

“Yes I do,” Scott replied. He reached into his right pocked and pulled out a shiny silver multi-tool.

“Grab the boot with the pliers and maybe you can hold on,” Caleb direct.

“Good idea,” Scott replied as he followed his brother's suggestion.

Scott reached out and pinched the top of the boot tightly with the pliers of his multi-tool. He tugged on the boot until it's sole was freed from it's swampy prison. Scott gingerly stood back up, being careful not to make any moves that would resign any of the boys to the fate from which the boot had been rescued. He held the boot out to his brother who took it gratefully and returned it to his foot. Caleb looked at his wrist-watch.

“I thinks it's time to dock this ship and head back to the house,” he declared.

“Just watch where you walk,” Scott suggested to no one in particular as the boys collected their slab wood firearms. “We don't have time to go through that again.”