Up The Oak

John sits on a branch up in the tall oak tree. It’s the middle of a spring night; his legs dangle over the side and swing gently back and forward underneath him.

 

John’s great, great grandfather planted the oak tree from a sapling and every spring solstice John returns home to honor his memory under its giant canopy.

 

The breeze shivers through the leaves of the tree.

 

John looks down and lets out a small gasp as he realizes he’s not alone.

 

He can just make out someone directly below him in the darkness unaware of the silhouetted figure above.

 

How did they get there without him hearing them? The breeze must of masked they’re approach up the hill.

 

There's a thudding sound as something heavy is dropped on the ground. Heavy breathing fills the air followed by the sound of metal on stone.

 

Digging.

 

 It's the dead of night, what the hell is going on?

 

John sits still daring to hardly breathe. F**k my phone is still on what if someone calls me now. The anxiety creeps in; a relentless physical pain rising in his chest.

 

The digging and breathing continues below.

 

“Right” he hears a Welshman’s voice “that should do it ”.

 

John looks down and through puddles of moonlight sees a dark object being dragged along the ground, the man pauses from the dragging to catch his breath for a moment.

 

 Thud.

 

Whatever it is hits the bottom of the hole. He hears the shovel dig into a mound of earth, release and scatter in the bottom of the hole.

 

What’s he putting in there? John peers through the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse. 

At last the hole is filled and the man pats down the remaining earth with the shovel. John hears the scratching and ignition of a cigarette lighter below and looks down to see the bright yellow flame dance in front of the mans face.

 

His nose was long and bent and his glowing red cigarette was held between his fat wet lips.

 

I’m bursting for a piss how long is he going to stay down there?

 

Finally footsteps fade away from the tree. John waits silently. A car door opens and closes in the distance. ‘Vruuuum’ the engine fires into life. Idling for a moment.

 

What’s he thinking about, why is he waiting?

 

The cars tyres crunch gravel as it moves away. Relief pours over John ad he lets out a huge sigh as a bead of sticky sweat rolls down his cheekbone.

 

Jesus that was close I nearly pissed myself!

 

He climbs down the tree and hurriedly relieves himself against it. 

 

THE END

© Simon Holland 2018

Author's Note

my first post on here, any constructive feedback most welcome!

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

Break it up into a few paragraphs and give a reader an eye break with some white space.

Proofread it. Sloppy punctuation and spell check misses detract from the story.

Good action and suspense.

And tell me one more time, in case I missed it, Why was John up in that tree?