---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN#/ISBN# issue/book “While the Waves Crashed” cc&d, v274 (the Aug. 2017 issue) Order this as a 6"x9" paperback book:

Order this writing in the issue book Nothing Lasts the cc&d May-August 2017 collection book		get the 4 page May-August 2017 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

The Old Man in the Tree

Bill DeArmond

    Once upon a time there was a young lad named Frodo who...wait a minute...that’s not it. Was it Luke? Nah! Too biblical. Lancelot? Too weird. Let’s just call him Bubba...Prince Bubba.
    So – once upon a time there was a young lad named Prince Bubba, who was sent on a vision quest by his father, King...King Bud...Budwig the Confused.
    Since King Bud spent every day testing the quality of his ale in his brewery, he had a perpetual hangover and little time to teach his son the ways of the world because...because...because his mother, Queen Latifa, had been barbecued and eaten by the evil dragon...What the hell was its name?...Oh...Hell...the evil dragon Hell who, when he found out Bud had a brewery, said “Sorry ‘bout that” and they became partners and that’s how we got fire-brewed ale.
    Anyway, Bubba was into his fifth day of wandering aimlessly about the woods looking for his vision quest when he came upon a village peopled by withered-up old men who...wore only green.
    And the elder, a man named...uh...Greenjeans sauntered up to Prince Bubba...well...he was too old to saunter...so he hobbled up to Bubba and asked, “What can we do ye for?”
    “Dude, ye looks like a raisin,” praised Bubba. “How old are you anyways?”
    “My name be Kelley Greenjeans and I be 37. ‘Tis the fine quality of the ale in these parts keeps us so healthy.”
    “Hey, I’m, like, Prince Bubba, you know. My Dad makes your brewski and he sent me down this road to find the purpose of life or the closest McDonald’s – whichever came first. And I was wonderin’ if you could, like, point me in the right direction ‘cause there’s, like, two roads forking in the woods and I’ve been, like, goin’ ‘round in circles for five days and I don’t wanna take the road least traveled by.”
    “All life is a circle, me son. Men spend eternity chasin’ their tale.”
    “You mean like a tale-story? Or a dog’s tail?”
    Suddenly Bubba felt a small tugging on his tunic. Looking down he spotted a chimp dressed in a green tuxedo.
    “Dude, what a monkey suit!” admired Bubba.
    With that the chimp began a furious series of hand...or paw...gestures which Bubba, who had just gotten a degree in Native Animal Sign Acquired Language (NASAL), was easily able to interpret.
    “My name is Fred,” signed the chimp. “I’m the incentive incident to get you past this exposition. If you are searching for the road to the meaning of life, then I must take you to see The Old Man in the Tree.”
    “Cool! Lead the way, my furry buddy,” signed Bubba.
    “You don’t have to sign,” signed Fred. “I read lips. Plus you’ve got a lisp with your little finger. You just called me your ‘furry butt.’”
    So Bubba and Fred set out to find The Old Man in the Tree in what has to be one of the most curious fairy tale openings you’ve ever read. (If indeed you’re still reading and I’d be surprised if you still are. I’m still hung over from too much of King Bud’s ale and writing is the only thing that sobers me up. What? Shut up and be an epic narrator? Stop drawing attention to yourself? Well, exsqueeze me!)

    Sorry about that folks. This is the editor writing. We’ll cut the narrative down and get to the good stuff.
    So, anyway, to make this short story a little shorter, they made their way through the woods, past the pit of fire, over the bridge of sighs where they slew the demented ogre, jumped from the Cliff of Doom, landed on the bank of Uppa Creek, killed and ate a wild snipe and ended up at the foot of a hill where high atop lived The Old Man in the Tree.
    The house hadn’t so much been built in the tree as the tree had grown up inside the house, lifted it off its foundation with its branches, breaking through the walls, holding it aloft. It was a Remax nightmare.
    “Cool digs,” Bubba told Fred. “How do we get him to come out? There’s no bell or nothin’”
    “Call out to him,” signed Fred.
    “Hey, Old Dude, wassup?”
    After a pause the door creaked open and The Old Man in the Tree popped his head out.
    “Who the hell’s bustin’ my chops this early in the morning?”
    Bubba took a step back fearing the wrath of some Merlin-like wizard. But he was just a little Old Man in a Tree who looked a lot like that comedian Bubba had seen recently on HBO...George...something.
    “It is I, Bubba, son of Bud the Confused. I have come for your wisdom to aid me on my quest.”
    “So what kinda quest you on? Is this a damsel-in-distress-slay-the-dragon-live-happily-ever-after kinda quest?”
    “Old Dude, I assure you this is a noble quest for enlightenment – or a Big Mac and fries.”
    “Oh! The I-just-graduated-and-don’t-know-what-the-hell-to-do-with-my-life quest. I get a lot of those, livin’ so close to the college.”
    “Fred said...”
    “Who?”
    “My friend Fred, the chimp there...”
    “You gotta talkin’ monkey?”
    “He’s no monkey...he’s a chimpanzee. Anyway, Fred laid it straight that you were the Wise Old Dude to see. That you knew the path to true gnosis...or gooses...I couldn’t make him out too good.”
    “You say the monkey told you this?”
    “Yes.”
    “How? Monkeys can’t talk.”
    “He can sign and I’ve got a degree in...”
    “Don’t tell me – NASAL, right?”
    “Yes, and he told me that you had all the wisdom of the universe...”
    “Where’d you find this signing monkey?”
    “Back in the village. It was as if he knew my inner turmoil.”
    “So you followed him?”
    “Yes.”
    “Doesn’t that seem a bit silly?”
    Bubba had to agree that it was a very convenient plot device but defended his position. “Nature’s creatures know things we don’t. They are in tune with the subtle resonances of life. Plus, Dude, how cool is a talking chimp?”
    The Old Man in the Tree jumped down to the nearest branch to the ground so he could really get into the boy’s face.
    “Why does every young fart think I should have all the answers?” he began. “You think just because I’m old that I’ve got something special to pass on to you? I’m an Old Man living in a Tree, fer chrissakes! No cable...no indoor plumbing...not even electricity and you think...”
    “But I’ve always been taught that with age comes wisdom,” Bubba implored.
    “With age comes constipation. I’m half-senile and I’ve spent my life in a tree. Where you think I acquired this secret wisdom? A carrier pigeon?”
    “But I read in Jung about how as you get older that male takes on the wisdom of anima.”
    “Anna’s ma? Don’t know her.”
    “No, anima. This causes his soul to grow and expand and touch the divine Sophia.”
    “I ain’t touched nothin’ – let alone a woman – in over 50 years. Look around you, boy. You think any girl named Sophie’s gonna visit this house?”
    “But...”
    “No, sir. This ain’t no fairy tale and I ain’t no Yoda. This is real life and in real life old people don’t always know everything just because they’ve lived a long time. I’ve been in this tree for a hundred years. Don’t you think if I knew the secret of life I’d a written some book about it? Got me on Oprey and moved to Florida?”
    Bubba cast his eyes to the ground, found a quarter, picked it up and put it in his pocket. “So there’s nothin’ you can tell me? There is no secret gnosis?”
    “What’cha got?”
    “Pardon?”
    “What’ll you give me for this knowledge?”
    “Well, what d’ya want?”
    “How much money you got?”
    “Maybe about a hundred dollars or so.”
    “You’re about to embark on a perilous journey to the sacred shrine of knowledge and your old man only gave you a hundred bucks?”
    “I got plastic.”
    “You got two picture IDs?”
    “No, but my Dad’s the King and...”
    “All the boys say that. You got anything else?”
    “That’s it.”
    The Old Man in the Tree looked over at Fred. “I like the monkey.”
    “I told you, Fred’s a chimp and he’s very sensitive. Besides, he has to go with me. Don’t you know that every mythic hero on a quest HAS to be accompanied by a sidekick for comic relief and revelation of interior dialogue. Haven’t you seen Shrek?”
    The Old Man in the Tree thought this over for a long time, cocked his head and said, “I like the monkey.”
    “Oh, well...alright.”
    “Plus the hundred bucks.”
    “What?”
    “How am I supposed to feed the monkey?” The Old Man in the Tree said, somewhat indignantly. “Tie him to that stump over there.”
    As Bubba obeyed The Old Man in the Tree, Fred let forth a series of phrases Bubba hadn’t covered in classes.
    “So you want to know the secret gnosis – the wisdom I’ve gained over a century and a half?”
    “Yes, Old Wise Dude – lay it on me.”
    “I want you to listen very carefully because I’m only gonna say this once. The secret to life is...You sure you ain’t got some magazines, maybe a jar of peanut butter?”
    “We made a deal, now TELL ME!”
    “What I’ve learned in my life is this: ‘You may grow too old to cut the mustard but you’re never too old to cut the cheese.’”
    The Old Man in the Tree laughed so hard he fell over backwards out of his tree and landed on a barrel of pickles.
    “That’s it!?!” Bubba yelled in the Old Man Out of the Tree’s face.
    “Yep,” he said as he got up and dusted himself off.
    “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. How’s that supposed to help me?”
    “What’d you expect? ‘There is no spoon.’ Of course there’s a spoon...and a fork...and a...”
    “I think you’re just a stupid, stinky Old Dude who’s full a crap!”
    “Well, you DID ask. Wouldn’t leave me alone. What’d you expect?”
    “Something...I don’t know...profound.”
    The Old Man in the Tree Now on the Ground puffed out his chest. “Okay...Here’s your profundity: ‘The message isn’t the message.’”
    Bubba looked more bewildered than before. “Huh?”
    “The secret doesn’t come from any old fart you meet in the woods, or inna desert, or sittin’ under a tree by the side of the road. The secret is the road.”
    “You mean, I’ll find it somewhere down that road?”
    “You ain’t listen’ to me, boy. The purpose of life isn’t what may be at the end of the road. It IS the road.”
    “It’s THAT simple?” asked Bubba, disbelieving.
    “Duh! Now get your ass out there and consider yourself properly schooled.”
    “One last thing, Old Dude. Tell me. Which direction should I take? Which road will lead me to my vision quest?”
    The Old Man in the Tree Who Now Kinda Liked Being on the Ground thought a moment and asked, “Do you like snow?”
    “Not really,” Bubba replied.
    “Then go south.”
    As Bubba continued down the road on his quest, the Old Man Who Was Getting Back Into the Tree said to the chimp, “Okay, Fred. Now go back to town and fetch us another sucker.”
    Bubba, now fading into the setting sun, turned back one last time to wave goodbye to them. And Fred gave him his own salute, telling Bubba he’d always be number one in his book.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...