Archive for the ‘Stories’ Category

Wooden Boy

March 8, 2008

Wooden Boy
by Barry Harmon

woodenboy.jpg

Once upon a time there was little boy. Now I hear you asking yourself, “A little boy? How very unoriginal!” But hold on reader, for this is no ordinary boy. This is a very special boy who has a very unique trait. The reader asks, “A leg made out of soap?” No, my dear reader, that is ludicrous. Legs cannot be made out of soap any more than a boy can be made out of pine. Coincidentally, this boy I am speaking of IS made out of pine. The reader is confused. “Is this Pinocchio?” the reader gruffly asks. No, no my dear reader. This is an entirely different boy, his name is Wooden Boy. Wooden Boy lived in a log cabin. When one thinks of this, they may be a bit put off by the idea of the wooden boy, but the log cabin is certainly digestible. A log cabin is grounded in reality and, unlike Wooden Boy, many of you who are reading may have even SEEN a log cabin. “My uncle owned one.”, replies the reader. Wooden Boy, while comfortable with the cabin, did not enjoy the idea of his situation. For you see, dear reader, Wooden Boy is made of pine and the cabin is made of pine. Now let us take a moment to look at our bodies. The reader and myself are made of flesh and blood, or in Laymen’s terms: meat. How would we feel if we lived in a meat cabin? Now you understand how Pinocchio feels. “Wooden Boy.” Thats what I meant.

For fifteen years Wooden Boy lived in the cabin of his genetic make up, and for those fifteen years he was left pining away at his situation. I apologize for the pun, but that is what he did and I am not going to a thesaurus to change it.

Fine.

He lamented his predicament.

And so, after this fifteen year time Wooden Boy stepped out the door for the first time. Planting his wooden feet on soil for the first time, Wooden Boy looked to the sky. Three helicopters flew past (in fact, it was the same helicopter making it’s morning rounds which totaled in three passes over the cabin, but Wooden Head is new to the world so cut him some slack). Closing the door behind him, Wooden Boy walked five feet from the cabin and took in his surroundings. The cabin was located atop a mountain, on a small flat of land that wasn’t any bigger than the floor space of his cabin multiplied by two. The ground was a moist brown soil, with the look and consistency of chocolate cake. Wooden Boy leaned in closer and inspected the soil. Scooping up the pillowy brown dirt and holding it close to his two little drilled nostrils, he inhaled deeply. The smell of earth filled his lungs and for the very first time he felt alive. Wooden Boy quickly took back this feeling as he had always believed he was alive, and had no hope of achieving humanity. He had what he believed to be called “woodanity.” Although not the best term, Wooden Boy chose it so we cannot argue with that. Although, a fifteen year time inside could have resulted in something better, but that is my opinion dear reader.

Standing up from his ground sniffing, Wooden Boy stared further out from the base of the square plot of soil down onto the land below. The ground consisted not of ground, but of water stretching for as far as Wooden Boy could see. Wooden Boy has good vision so it can be assumed that it was a long ways. Wooden Boy thought of all the things he had seen: three (one) helicopter(s), soil, a mountain and lots of water. Not too much to write home about, thought Wooden Boy. Upon thinking this, he became homesick and thought of his log cabin, now so many feet away. A small ball of wood shavings formed in corner of his eye and fell to the ground with a subtle “fuff.” Wooden Boy turned around and entered his home and closed the door. The 8×8 foot cabin seemed smaller than before, and Wooden Boy began to recount his experiences outside on the 16×16 foot plot of land. He adored his log cabin, but missed the space of the outdoors. Following this thought, he was fearful of the open space of the outdoors and missed the security of his log walls. If only there was a way to combine the two. A wooden light bulb went on in Wooden Boy’s head. He got to work.

Wooden Boy sat on the floor of his 16×16 foot log semblance. The log semblance consisted of forty 8 foot tall logs stuck 2 feet into the ground vertically. Evenly spaced, the logs let in a view of the sky and water below. The floor of the semblance was an 8×8 foot square of wood surrounded by a border of soul. What was once his yard was now his walking path, which he wandered around from time to time. Circling the 8×8 wooden square, he imagined places that he might be walking to. Having only seen what he has seen, he imagined distant lands where a mountain which was surrounded by miles of soil held an 8×8 pool of water at it’s peak. Another favorite land of his was one where everything consisted of helicopters. Even the air was helicopters. All this walking and imagining made him tired and that is why he is where he was when this paragraph began.

And that is where he still is to this day.