Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
My name is Ellie Palmer and I am 11 years old.
I’m sposed to pick a person as my hero. But I’m going to choose my dog instead haha. His name is Max. He’s 4-years old. He might be yunger than me, but he’s definitely more braver than me. He’s my best friend and hero cos he scares away introoders and that weird man, Jeffrey at the end of our estate.
Mrs Mooney said we need to talk about what makes a hero, so I spose I’ll start with that. They have to be brave, strong and confidant. I think.
Can I share a confeshion here? Mrs Mooney, if we have to read this out in class, can we skip this part, please? Thanks.
I wet the bed a lot last year. I blamed it on Max to begin with, but then it started hapening when he wasn’t there. Mum and Dad got soospishis. The nitemares were always the same. Me and Max were being chased by the Poo Tree. What’s that? Let me tell you.
Me and Daddy take Max for walkies in the afternoon when Mam is making dinner. Max always does a poo in the same spot, and we have to carry extra poo bags with us. Instead of carying it all the way home with us, we pass a lonely tree. It’s an old, ugly thing with branches like a witches fingers. Nobbly and twisty. I think it’s dead or dyeing cos I never seen any leafs on it. Anyway, a lot of the dog walkers pass the tree with their poo bags, and because it’s in a farmer field and not near any houses, lots of doggy daddy’s (and mummy’s I spose, but we don’t pass many of those), throw their doggy do-dos over at the tree.
There’s big shrubs and heges around it, so usualy these poo bags disappear. Daddy says it’s OK cos the bags are compostible, which means that they feed the Earth. Why anything would want to eat poo is anyone’s guess. Definitely not with what Max drops out his bum. Daddy says it’s radioaktiv, so I make sure not to touch it. Daddy does let me throw it though. He laffs whenever it catches on the tree branches. I say I don’t do it on purpose, but I do, really.
Everytime we visit the Poo Tree, more and more bags hang off the branches. It likes like a giant Christmas tree with poo ornamints.
A few weeks ago, when me and Daddy and Max went to the Poo Tree, we saw that all the poo bags were gone. There was an old farmer standing at the gate. Him and daddy got into an argumint. There was some bad words and Max got angry and was barking at the old farmer. Max pulled the lead out of my hand and tryed to bite the old farmer. The bad old man kicked Max and sent him flying. I never seen Daddy so angry. I cried all the way home. Daddy kept saying the same thing over and over.
It’s OK. I’ll fix it. It’s OK.
When we got home, dinner was ready. But Daddy left again. When he came back, we had finishd eating.
That was the first night I wet the bed (Mrs Mooney, we can skip that part, if I’m reading to the class. Remember!).
I dremt that the Poo Tree was following me and Max. Daddy was gone. The farmer had trappd him somewere. Every time I turned my back, I herd the Poo Tree walk towards me. There was a creaking noise like Granny’s wooden rocking chair. The little plastic bags that hanged from the branches rubbed together like crisp packet. When I turnd to see, the tree would freeze. Even if me and Max ran, it would always be closer every time I turned. I would run and run and run, but no mater how fast or how far I ran, the noize in my ear would get closer and closer until I could feel the little bags tapping me in the back. When I turned around, there would be a great big mouth with jagget teeth. That’s when I would wake up.
A few weeks later, and after Mammy and Daddy discoverd my secret and stoped blaming Max (sorry my love!), we went for a walk again. We had been going a different way since the insident with the farmer, but Daddy said we could go our old way again. I was nervous. I didn’t want to see Daddy angry or Max hurt, or deal with that farmer again. Daddy said it would be OK.
Max was more excited than ever. His nose searched the old way again. Lots of familier smells I spose. It was a much better root this way, because there was no traffic and there was lots of grass for him to do his bizness. When he did his poo, and Daddy picked it up, we kept walking. I was getting more nervous because I could see the gate at the end of the path and someone standing there. Max saw him too, and started barking.
It’s OK, Daddy said. Hold the leash tight Ellie.
I held it tight as I could. I wanted Max to bite the mean old man, but I didn’t want the Poo Tree to get him. I could still see those big teeth from my dreams.
You must be Ellie, the old farmer said. And you must be Max.
Hearing his name, Max stoped barking. The old man leaned over the gate and thru a bone to the ground. Max sniffed it suspishisly and then looked up at me for permishin.
I’m sorry for kicking your dog Ellie. My wife used to love dogs. We both did. I hope you’ll forgive me.
Max stoped growling and feched the bone. He was already turning to go back the way we came. Pulling on the leash.
I got you a little something. I hope that’s OK?
I looked up at Daddy and him and the farmer nodded between them. The farmer reached across and had something in his hand. Max dropped the bone and growled.
It’s OK Max, Daddy said. Take it Ellie.
I reached out and took it from the old man. It was a long flat stick, about the size of my arm.
I hear you like to play fetch. You can let Max off the leash in this field here. I’ve no cattle or crops so he can get all the exercise he needs.
I looked up at Daddy. He was smiling, just like the farmer. I felt very uncomftable. There was no way I was steping any closer to the Poo Tree, no way. That’s when I noticed for the first time that there was something missing. The farmer moved out of the way, and I could see fields farther away. The tree was gone!
A little reminder of the Poo Tree for you to take with you, the farmer said.
I looked down at the stick in my hands and smiled.
I win. You lose.
This story was written for the ambitious creative project, ‘The Weekly Kook’, where I release a brand new short story every week for a year, totalling…yep, you guessed it – 52 stories.
Check all the stories here as I release them.
