Chapter 18 18.man who listens to trees grow

In the village of Anthony Shoney there lived a fool named Jim Stokes. "What's a fool, Baba?" "Dirty rascals like that," said Baba. "Look at Jim Stokes, he's as dirty as he can get. And what an ugly look he squints! And, He's always drunk, the disgusting old fellow." But Baba was not right.Jim Stokes wasn't always drunk.Six months of the year he was drunk, but the other six he was sober like Eli Davis.And nine months of the year he was working, and of course the other three he was idle like a log in the woods doing nothing.During the three months when he was sane and willing to work, he saved enough money to spend the remaining three months doing nothing.What was left over after those three months, he usually spent on booze.He had a younger brother who was a grocer and a deacon in the church in the neighboring village.The younger brother was a responsible person, but he didn't seem to have anything to do with Jim.Whenever they met each other in the road, the grocer just walked on, looking ahead of him, while Jim stood aside, squinting and laughing at him.Jim was short, but boxy and strong, with only one eye and a hunchbacked shoulder, like a dwarf in legend.Anthony was charmed by him, but when they met Jim, Baba always dragged him aside, and Jim always squinted at her and laughed at her when he saw her do it.

One day Anthony went to the store alone to buy candy and met Jim.Jim was mending a hedge, for it happened to be his working month, and it happened to be when he was drunk.Anthony stopped and looked at him.Watching other people do their work is usually a lot of fun, and Jim was a master at it.The farmer wouldn't let him do it if he did it so-so.It was the fault of that old fool, who had an innate knack for just about anything, hedge mending, ditches digging, hoeing and digging, even when he was drunk. Jim squinted at Anthony and said, "Who are you looking at?" "I'm watching you," Anthony said.

"Then you just look, it doesn't hurt to see," said Jim. Anthony was pleased to hear that, for Jim was indeed a little frightened of squinting. "What are you holding in your hand?" said Jim. "A penny," said Anthony. "You're a lucky little boy to have a penny in your hand," laughed Jim. "I don't have a penny." Anthony immediately held up his penny before him, and Jim took it and put it in his pocket. "I didn't ask you for the penny," said Jim, "did I?" "No," Anthony said. "Have a good day then," said Jim. "It's time you go home and be a good boy."

Anthony was indeed a good boy, and went home. Afterwards they often met alone, and Jim always asked him what he had in his hand and what he had in his pocket.Anthony gave it to him if he had a penny, and always shared it with him if he had some sweets, though Jim despised sweets, saying he seldom ate them.One day the farmer saw them together and looked suspiciously at Jim. "Listen here," said the farmer, "did you bother the little fellow? Tell me." "Trouble him? Me?" said the fool. "He's my friend." He squinted at Anthony. "You mean?"

"Yes," Anthony said.It had never occurred to the farmer at all, but it suddenly appeared to him that they were indeed friends. One day, at the beginning of spring, Anthony was with his father when they met the farmer.After they had exchanged greetings, his father asked how the farmer was doing. "So-so," said the farmer. "Short of hands, in a word. Jim's off work again, that loafing old fellow, and I can't hope to see him again till May." "Dick Walter will never see him," said Anthony's father.Dick Walter was the proprietor of the village tavern.

"Well," said the farmer, nodding, "this Jim's a queer man, a drunk when he works, and a sober man when he's idle." He shook his head, as if he couldn't say which. worse. "Yeah," said Anthony's father, "he's been doing nothing for a while since he made his money." "Well," said the farmer, "he stopped working for that, too. When he was working, he didn't spend all his money drinking, but from May to November, Dick Walter saw him a lot. From that time until February he was as healthy as you and me, and he saved pennies and pennies for later idleness. But I say, why on earth? Would you want to do nothing for three months?"

"Yeah, yeah!" said Anthony's father, "but who knows if he's really doing nothing?" "That's all wrong, it's been seen," said the farmer, "and there's no secret here. Jim could be seen lying under a tree in the three acres at any time during these three months, He had his pipe in his hand. But why, that's what I want to know most." "Did you ask him why?" "Well, I asked, and look, what kind of answer did I get? 'I rest, master.' That's what Jim told me. 'But why, Jim?' I said. 'Listen to the tree grow Oh!' said he, 'I'll be back in May, my lord.' And so he went. But why?"

Why did the farmer ask this question over and over again?Anthony was puzzled.Jim Stokes had told him what it was for.It was the first time Anthony had had a chance to go to Three Acres, Jim told him himself. It's a bare time of year, but you know everything starts to grow.The sun shone through the leafless branches on which crows croaked, and there was no undergrowth to hide anything under the trees, except here and there here and there a few here and there under the moisture of a few here and there a few violets and a few new-grown indigos.It wasn't long before Anthony found Jim Stokes lying under a tree like a dead log.His back was to Anthony, and the smoke from his pipe curled around his head.He heard the little boy coming, but without turning his head, he just raised a finger to warn him to keep quiet.Anthony walked over as quietly as he could, and sat down beside Jim, leaning his back against the trunk.

Time passed minute by minute, and the two sat there without saying anything.Anthony fixed his eyes on the ground, pricked up his ears and listened carefully, but couldn't hear anything.If Jim could hear anything, his ears must be very sharp, or else he must be able to listen very carefully.An hour passed, and Anthony was tormented by a deep disappointment.As he listened, he half-believingly expected a tree to grow in the dirt at his feet, but everything around him was just as it had been. "That's why you're making mistakes," said Jim, taking the pipe out of his mouth and refilling it. "You're looking instead of listening. You think your eyes are sharp enough to see trees grow huh? Close your eyes, don't look, just listen, you little fool."

He was puffing and puffing in front of Anthony, making his eyes sting and blurring.Anthony was happy to close his eyes. "All right, all right! All right, all right!" Who is saying this? The earth was shaking beneath him, rocking, rocking, rocking, like a heartbeat. "There-there, there-there, come-come, come-come, ok-ok, ok-ok." The little seeds were still snug and snug under the bed of the earth, but when When the earth swayed back and forth, the insides of their bodies also involuntarily stirred up.Anthony heard them quivering like his own heart.Those are some small seeds, some are flat, some are round, and some are oval.There were also little fruits that thumped down from the oak, and seeds that flew like little wings from the ash, and little triangular seeds that exploded from the beech-berries.The earth is packed with these seeds, and their hearts are pounding as the earth shakes them to and fro.But none had yet emerged from the ground, let alone raised their points among their ancestors in the forest.

"Oh, what a forest's going to grow down here!" murmured Jim, smoking and puffing. "That's a pretty big forest." "When will it grow, Jim?" "Maybe a hundred years. We won't see it flourish, but we may see it sprout. The tall trees here now will be gone by then, and other big trees will take their place. Go on It's their turn to be wiped out. Listen to the click, that's the old oak over there. It's growing, isn't it? Listen to the click, I've heard it for forty years. The chestnut over there Trees are growing too, and that little hawthorn tree, listen up, it never stops, it never stops, it grows straight, it grows twisted, it grows, it must keep growing, and it must stop Can't stop. Boo!" "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Shake, shake!The earth is shaking. Thump, thump!Anthony's heart was beating. He is no longer a little boy.He is a seed in the ground.what kind of seeds?How long would he have to wait before he knew if he was a tall, straight maple or a little crooked hawthorn? "What does it matter. Straight or crooked, it's all the same to the earth. She's been making them go on and on growing the same. They'll all go to dust at the end, and then who knows what it will be like." What difference does it make? Listen!" "Look--watch! There--there! There--there! Come-come!" A year has passed.Anthony let the tiny buds poke out of the cracks in the ground.Now he could just see the forest, the forest where he must take a place among all the other trees.They are all so tall, some are so beautiful, some are so weird.The tender, graceful ash tree was like his mother.She is, then, an ash tree.But the maple tree was like her father.Will he become a maple tree?Look at that quaint, twisted little hawthorn tree, very much like Jim Stokes.Could he also become a twisted little hawthorn tree?Another year passed, and another year, and another year.Anthony has been growing and growing.His buds were as delicate as flowers at first, and year after year, they hardened a little bit, and then year after year, they became very rough and rough. "Watch out for the rabbits," the little hawthorns reminded him, "you're not safe yet. They'll nibble you at the first chance, and what will you do then?" But the rabbit let him go and slipped away for many years. A man came with an axe, and he cleared away the young hawthorn bushes. In the next year the maple tree was cut down, and after that the ash tree.In the old forest, old trees disappeared one after another, and new trees rose one after another.But the forest is still the forest, even though the trees inside are different. Sixty years have passed in this way.Anthony was always busy listening to things grow, and never stopped watching.Now he suddenly wanted to look at himself and see what kind of tree he was.But he couldn't see himself—he was deep in the forest, too deep.He could look out at all the other trees around him, except for one thing he couldn't see, not knowing what tree he was. "What tree am I? What tree am I?" he cried out loudly. "You don't keep asking so many questions, keep asking," growled Jim Stokes, taking his pipe from his mouth and refilling it. "That's just going to disturb those things. If you can't keep these problems in your stomach, you'd better take them home." Anthony blinked as he watched Jim exhale smoke from his freshly filled pipe.But he couldn't keep those questions quiet, they crowded his mind like seeds filled the earth.All he could hear was the noise of the questions, and he could no longer hear the trees growing. So he got up and sneaked away, leaving Jim Stokes alone like a log lying under a tree, forgetting about everything, asking no questions, just smoking and puffing. Listen with your ears.