A HOLE IN A TREE
In Which Our Heroes Learn That Trees Have Feelings, Too
A voice in the tree whispered Jacob’s name. A rock smacked the tree six inches above his head. Jacob’s twin sister threw another rock and hit the exact same spot as before.
“You’re creeping me out the way you’re staring at that tree,” his sister said.
“You heard something call my name just now, didn’t you?”
“That would be a big fat no.” She straightened the purple thirteen on her baseball jersey and threw another near miss, her fifty-seventh in a row since the start of that summer. “You lie as much as other people breathe.”
“Snooglie--” he started to say.
“Melody. Only dad can call me Snooglie.”
A strand of strawberry blonde hair slipped from Melody’s ponytail. Her curveball hit the tree right in the strike zone. The tree’s old branches swayed towards their house. Their mom had already called someone to cut it down next week. Jacob searched his hand for a blank spot then wrote a ghost in a tree right below his thumb. Dozens of other story ideas colored his hand like tattoos.
The tree creaked and groaned. Not a single leaf had bloomed, and it was already midsummer.
“Give me a chance to tell a story about dad before grandma gets here,” Jacob asked.
His sister kicked her leg high the way her hero Satchel Paige did and unleashed her fastball. Another blistering strike.
“Mom said you should let dad rest in peace already,” she said.
Thanks for helping! I will happily return the favor of critiquing.