The Tree Salesman

A Terrifying Tremulous Trees story

“Hey, can I help you,” Charlie said to the hiker who decided to climb up one of my branches.

“Huh?” The man said.

“You’ve climbed into my tree,” Charlie said.

“Your tree?” The man asked.

“Yah, I inherited it from my grandpa who stole it from some squirrel,” Charlie jested.

“That’s stupid, you can’t own a tree,” the man said, clearly not understanding Charlie’s sarcasm.

“What if I sold it to you at a very reasonable price?” Charlie said.

“Wow, my own tree! How much? What’s your Venmo?” The man asked and opened Venmo.

“Then thousand, CharlieTwigly24,”Charlie said.

“Dollars?” The man asked.

“Euros,” Charlie said.

“Well, that still seems reasonable. Sent,” the man said

“I’m all yours, I suppose,” I said to the idiot man.

“Aaahhhh, a talking tree,” the man screamed. He jumped off my branches and ran deep into the woods, screaming the whole way.

“That was the second guy this week we sold you too,” Charlie said and laughed.

“Easy money. The witches are making just as much selling Jonas, and Honon is selling Mr. Murder Tree. I think Honon has sold him three times already,” I said.

“My species can be dumb,” Charlie said and shrugged.

“You’re definitely the smartest of the bunch,” I told Charlie. This made him smile.

A strange and annoying creature had landed on one of my moss-covered branch’s beside me. It’s wings shimmered with shades of green, reflecting the sunlight. I was not happy to see him.

Then he flew off, zipping though the air. I tried to swat him away with all my branches, but he was too fast.

“Shoo, go away. I thought I told you not to come back here, pest,” I growled.

The peculiar, pint-sized figure zipped right up to Charlie’s face, fluttering its lime-green, leaf-like wings, then stopped and stared into Charlie’s eyes. This mischievous sprite, which was about as tall as my shortest twig, had skin that glowed like a radioactive pickle.

It eventually landed on a branch and sat next to Charlie. Charlie stared.

“What you lookin’ at, punk?” The creature asked in a thick New York accent.

“What are you? Twigly, what the hell is this thing?”

“What’s the matter, kid, you ain’t never seen a freakin’ fairy before?” The creature asked.

“Your a fairy?” Charlie asked.

“That’s right. Is that gunna be a problem, little man?” The fairy said.

“Um, I guess not? And have you looked in the mirror, lately, little fairy?” Charlie said.

“Oh, I've checked, sweetheart. And I'm perfectly content with my freakin’ size, thank you very much. But it seems like you need a reminder that the most powerful things in life often come in small packages. You know, like dynamite... and me. Boom,” the fairy said, thrust his hips forward and spat on the ground.

“Ok, I believe you,” Charlie said.

“Good. Now let’s agree to show each other a little freakin’ respect from now on,” the fairy said.

Charlie nodded.

“Annoying as ever, you little green gargoyle. Leave Charlie alone before he hates you as much as I do,” I said.

“Fairy. The gargoyles live just north of us. If you think we’re annoying, try talking to one of them,” the fairy said.

“No thanks,” I said and grunted.

“Twigly, did you know there’s fairies that lived in these woods?” Charlie asked me.

“Yes. I’ve had the misfortune of dealing with this jerk here and a few of his annoying friends,” I said tentatively.

“And you never mentioned this, because?” Charlie asked.

“Because they’re annoying as hell, I hate them. I was hoping they left because I haven’t seen them in a while,” I said.

“Wow, ok. Nice to see you too! And hey, we’re not to fond of you either, buddy. That’s why you haven’t seen us, kid, we’ve been avoiding your tree pal here. We ain’t exactly on speaking terms. He thinks he’s so smart and wise because he’s the oldest thing in this forest. Ain’t that right, Twigly,” the fairy said.

“If I agree with you, will you go away?” I asked the fairy.

“Maybe,” the fairy said.

“Fine. That’s correct. I think I know everything and I’m old. Feel free to fly off my branch and over a cliff. You can do this anytime now, Griswold,” I said.

“Hey, I ain’t here for you. I’m here to tell this kid he’s a great salesman,” Griswold said.

“Fine. Tell him. Then go,” I said.

“You’re a great salesman, kid. I admire your skills. What do you say we form a partnership. I can double your tree prices, no problem. Then I can help you get twice as many customers. Names Griswold, by the way,” Griswold said.

“Charlie doesn’t need your help, you sad sack of magical green crap. Go back to New York,” I said.

“How about you let Charlie decide, Twigly,” Griswold said.

“Um, it’s up to Twigly,” Charlie said.

“You heard the man. Go. Shoo. Scram. Get out of here, you flying pest,” I said.

“That’s not what he said. Please can I say. Let’s leave the past behind us,” Griswold begged.

“Ugh. Fine. But Charlie gets to keep all the money,” I said.

“I don’t need money. My absinthe factory makes enough for all of us ‘little green fairies’,” Griswold said and chuckled.

I grumbled and continued walking through the forest as Charlie and Griswold got to know each other.

“So, you’re from New York? What made you come out here?” Charlie asked.

“Well, most of us, including myself, are from Ireland, originally,” Griswold began to explain.

“You should have stayed there,” I interrupted. Griswold continued to speak over my interruption.

“In the early and mid eighteenth century, a lot of the Irish were leaving for what they called ‘the new world.’ They’d spend all their money on boat tickets to get there. Eventually, me and some of the other freakin’ fairy folk got curious as to where they were going. We snuck on to one of their boats headed to this ‘new world,’ and ended up in New York. When they got to New York, they were discriminated against by the people who were born there, even most of them were only second or third generation. I mean, talk about a stupid reason to hate someone. Like, ‘yah my freakin’ parents immigrated here before you did, so you suck.’ So, because we wanted to help our fellow countrymen, we used our magic to make all the Irish in New York cops. Can you imagine being hated for a stupid reason, then suddenly you get the authority to arrest the people that hate you. It was freakin’ hilarious. Every time one of the morons called the Irish a Mick or a Paddie, they were arrested on the spot for whatever the Irish cop could think of, like disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct, being a public nuisance, or loitering. You should have seen the looks on those bigots faces. It was so freakin’ funny,” Griswold said.

“Sounds… hilarious. If you were having so much fun, why’d you move here?” I asked.

“The Irish eventually spread out. Ran out of pranks to play. New York became overdeveloped and overpopulated for my taste. So I moved here,” Griswold said.

“I wish you didn’t,” I said.

“Hey, we’re friends now, Twigly,” Griswold said.

“Yah, ‘friends’,” I said smugly.

“Why don’t you have an Irish accent if you’re from Ireland,” Charlie asked.

“That’s actually a good question,” I said.

“Because some jerkoff trapped me in a magical jar and made a wish for me to sound like him when I was in New York. Only if I granted it would he release me,” Griswold said begrudgingly.

“So, you can grant wishes?” Charlie asked and smiled.

“I freakin’ guess so. Just don’t put me in a magical freakin’ jar,” Griswold said and shook his head.

“I wish a bus full of rich gullible idiots would pull up and each purchase a tree,”Charlie said.

“That wish I’ll grant,” Griswold said. He took out a small twig, called it a wand, twirled his fingers, flaming sparkles came out, then a tour bus of idiots pulled up in front of Twigly.

The idiots got out of the bus lead by a tour guide and Charlie shouted, “who wants to buy their very own forest tree?”

They all mumbled and I heard one of them say, “that sounds amazing.”

They took out their wallets, checkbooks, and credit cards and some of them opened their Venmo accounts.

“Only one hundred thousand per tree. Own an ancient wonder today,” Charlie shouted.

“Such a reasonable price to own a historical tree,” one of them said. They all mumbled in agreement and paid Charlie.

“I guess we’re all yours,” I said and laughed. Some of the other forest trees who were watching the situation started laughing too.

“Wow, that’s really cool. Talking trees,” one of them said and smiled.

“Griswold, who the hell did you bring to my forest. These humans don’t scare,” I said.

“Oh, humans… you guys wanted humans. All I heard Charlie say was rich gullible idiots,” Griswold said.

“So, if they’re not human, what the hell are they?” Charlie asked.

“Funny you should say hell. Gullible… demons,” Griswold said and gulped.

“See Charlie. This is a perfect example of why Griswold’s annoying,” I growled.

“I’m starting to see your point,” Charlie said.

“Hey guys, I’m sorry. It was an honest mistake. Forgive a fairy?” Griswold said.

“Fine. We’ll forgive you if you get rid of these guys,” I growled.

“Ok, but you have to say I wish first,” Griswold said.

“Get rid of us, we just gave you a total of one point two million dollars,” one of the demons said and his eyes started glowing red.

“I wish,” Charlie started to say when a man in a Mercedes pulled up, followed by about a dozen cement carrying trucks and another truck carrying a few dozen workers pulled up.

The man got out of the car and started to speak.

“There they are. The talking tree that scared the crap out of me. I purchased him and now he has to do what I say. Build a wall around him and block him in. Then build a few stores. We’ll sell drinks, food and some other crap while having the tree entertain tourists. We’ll make a fortune,” the man said.

“Excuse me, sir, these are our trees. We paid for them and stayed for the deed. You ran away, and came back out of greed. You will not stay and build your mall for human feed,” one of the bus demons said.

“What are you going to do about it, ugly? There’s more of us then there are of you,” the man said.

The bus demon lifted his hand, snapped his fingers and set the man ablaze. He screamed and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

“Who’s next?” The bus demon asked. The workers and truck drivers turned their trucks around and sped off.

“Did you kill that man?” Charlie asked.

“No. Don’t worry, tree and human who sits in the tree. He’s not dead. We sent him to a dungeon we found in the woods a while back,” the bus demon said.

“That’s our dungeon. Have you been using our dungeon to imprison other people, by chance?” I asked.

“Yes, were we not supposed to?” The bus demon asked.

“That explains all the extra mystery prisoners,” I said.

“Who are they, what are their crimes?” Charlie asked.

“Trying to destroy our home. We live in the woods, too, you know. Hope you don’t mind,” the bus demon said.

“Then I guess it’s fine,” I said.

“We’ll be back. And don’t worry, we won’t make you entertain groups of tourists. Just us,” the bus demon said and laughed.

The bus demons got back on their bus, opened a fiery portal, drove into it and disappeared.

“See, I didn’t do such a bad thing. The demons aren’t so bad,” Griswold said.

“Shut up, Griswold,” I said.

“Don’t worry, Griswold. I thought the demons were cool,” Charlie said and gave Griswold a high five.

The three of us laughed.