Cedar on Nisqually

The special qualities of a large cedar tree in the Pacific Northwest and how it starts a unique relationship between two quite different people.

Cedar on Nisqually

Nad Ekcol

  December, 2013

The sign said the cedar tree was at least 700 years old.  The top was dead and the fluted base was nearly twenty feet in diameter. No one knew why it hadn’t been cut down years ago. Its isolated location near the Nisqually River may have been part of the reason. More likely the odd bend in the lower trunk made it less than useful to loggers during the heyday of Pacific Northwest lowland logging more 90 years ago. Now, people who took the short hike leading to its location, marveled at its size and shape. Little boys would try to scramble up it flutes, rubbed smooth by innumerable shoes and boots. Adults would speak in quiet voices when they viewed it, not really knowing why.

Darren had driven to the end of the gravel road off the highway near the river because he always wondered what was there.  Maybe a good fishing spot or place to launch a boat?  He hadn’t fished in several years, but now, newly divorced, he had the time.  But the road simply ended with the sign indicating a trail to a large cedar tree " seven tenths of a mile. 

Getting out of his car he mumbled to himself, “What the heck, I’ll go see this big tree. Must be something if they have a sign about it.”

 He began walking slowly down trail through the woods. Several Vine Maple, blazing red at their peak color on this crisp, sunny October day, caught his attention.

“Our bit of Vermont”, he said to himself.

Within fifteen minutes the Cedar came into view. He had to admit it was pretty impressive, especially with the large crook in the lower trunk. No one else was there. He stared at it for a few minutes, shrugged and turned to go. But something made him stay and look again.  There was a certain presence to the tree he could not put in words " he realized he felt it quite strongly, but at the same time it confused him.  He was not normally accustomed to introspection; he had always been a person of action, although sometimes he wondered why he did the things he did.  The large bend in the tree, not following a normal growth straight up reminded him of his own life right now, not going in the straight direction he had expected. But there was more to that huge tree than just a metaphor for his life.  It had something else.  As he looked at it, he noticed three large vertical grooves in the bark, almost grown over, but bare wood underneath still visible. No animal was large enough to have made such marks.  He wondered if it had been hit by lighting or suffered a strange disease in years past. 

Without thinking, Darren spoke out loud directly to the tree.  “What are you? Who marked you?”  He immediately felt foolish and looked around to see if anyone else was there, but he was still alone. He looked at the tree again and then reached out and put his hand against its rough, stringy bark.  Not knowing what else to do, he turned and began walking away.  But as he strode away, he knew somehow he would come back again.  

The Cedar had a story to tell as all ancient trees do, if they could speak.  This tree had a remarkable story that no one knew, certainly not Darren. There was another man who did know the story, one he had heard from his grandmother nearly 70 years ago.   This brown-skin old man was making what could be his final trip to visit the tree of his ancestors.  His decrepit car rattled down the gravel road to the end.  He had hoped no one would be there, and debated whether he should get out when he saw the other car parked.

“Maybe they’re leaving soon,” he muttered to himself as he reached for his cane in the back seat.  His knees were really bothering him with the recent turn to cooler weather.  He started slowly down the path to the tree. After walking a few hundred feet, he felt a heaviness in his chest and in spite of the cool weather, he broke out in a sweat. He knew he may not walk down this path again, but he had to do it today.

Rounding a bend in the path a younger man suddenly appeared. It was a White man and the old man was immediately annoyed. They both stopped and stared at each other.

“Hello,” said Darren, finally. The man looked really old and not very healthy either. In fact he looked like he might actually collapse right there in front of him.  “Are you walking all the way to the tree?” he asked.

“Yes,” said the old man simply and not really wanting to be disturbed, he bent his head down and began walking again. But he had been distracted by the encounter and missed seeing the root in front of him.  The fall was so quick and painful, he thought he would not be able to get up. The cane was out of his reach on the side of the trail.

Darren moved quickly and grabbed the old man’s arm, talking rapidly. “Are you O.K.?  Let me help you.  I guess you didn’t see that root.  Let me get your cane for you.”

“They always talk too much and too fast’” thought the old man, but he needed help in getting up.  His left knee was already throbbing. He grasped Darren’s hand and with great difficulty he was able to stand on two feet.  Immediately waves of nausea overcame him and he thought he might faint.  Darren felt him sway and tightened his grip on the old man’s arm.

“I’ve got to go to the Cedar” the old man croaked.  “It looks like I won’t be able to do it myself, I’ll need your help.”

  “Uh, - well O.K.,” said Darren, “but why do you have to go now?”

 “Never mind,” said the old man, “just help me down the trail.  Then you can leave.  I can make my way back alone.”

“Alright,” said Darren, “it’s not really that far. “  The old man did not respond.  Darren realized he was going back to the tree much sooner than he thought. Feeling awkward in the temporary silence, Darren said, “you know, there is something about that tree that….., well I knew I was going to come back again, but I really don’t know why”.

The old man looked at Darren and decided this might not be just another annoying Whiteman.  The younger man’s eyes had a sadness to them, but also a certain kindness.  He had helped him get up and was holding his arm now. He sighed. This was not what he had planned, but he had to return the kindness, even if it was a Whiteman.

In ten minutes they had arrived at the tree.  It was still the same.  Nobody had damaged it which he had feared since the signed trail had been constructed two years ago.

 “You can go if you want,” said the old man, “or you can stay, but you have to be quiet and not ask a lot of questions.”  His own bluntness surprised him, but it was the right thing to say at this moment and this place.

Darren didn’t know what to do at first.  “What are you going to do,” he blurted out, but the old man simply held up his hand. He looked at the tree from top to bottom. The strips were still visible, although fainter than the last time he visited several years ago. 

He hesitated, then turned to Darren and said, “This is a very special tree to me and sacred to our people. The tree will speak to those who listen.  Did it speak to you?”

“Well, I got something from it " yes it did sort of speak to me, Darren replied.  I’ll stay and I won’t say anything more.”

“I will talk to the tree now,” said the old man.  “It will be in my old language some of the time and in English some of the time, because I have forgotten many words in my old language.  If someone else comes, I will stop and we will leave.  But I don’t think anyone else will come since it will be getting dark soon.  We won’t be here a long time.”

Darren heard the undecipherable words, said in a kind of song and the same strange feeling came over him. The old man sang his short song in a low, almost monotone voice and then reached out and touched the tree.

When the song was done, the old man thanked the tree in English for what it had given the people over more years than anyone could count.  “I come here, maybe for the last time, to offer thanks to the Creator who made you.  The next person who comes in a sacred manner will be my grandson, I hope, if he doesn’t forget what I told him.”  He paused for a minute. “And perhaps also this young man with me today will come again in thanks since you have spoken to him.  Let his heart be open to your message.” Then he turned to Darren and said, “You could break some small branches from that young cedar over there and take them home.  Put them above your door and pray to the Creator or your God for assistance in solving your problems and healing the pain you have in your heart right now.”

Darren was taken aback at first. What did the old man know about his life, they had just met. But since the old man, though gruff, was not unkind, he decided to bite his tongue and walked over and broke off a few branches.  “I haven’t prayed in years,” he said, “and I don’t know what I would say.  But, I’ll take these branches.   So " are we done?”

“Yes, for now,” said the old man.  “But if you want to come back again, maybe that could happen.  Don’t think about it for too long, though, I’m an old man.”

Realizing he had just been invited to meet the old man there again, he said, “well " what about next week, can we meet here next week?”

The old man nodded barely, and then said, “It’s getting dark.  Let’s go now. I’ll need a little help.  My knee doesn’t feel so good.”

They reached the parking lot in dim light and Darren made sure the old man got into his car.  When he was settled, he said, “I’ve lived about 10 miles from here most of my life and this is the first time I’ve come here. I know nothing about Cedar trees and I have never talked to an Indian person about them. But I do want to talk to you more about this tree.  What day can we meet next week?”

“Try next Friday afternoon after lunch time,” said the old man.  I’ll bring my grandson " he talks a lot like you.”  And with that he started up his old car and drove off.

That evening, Darren was still thinking about the strange meeting and the cedar tree. Back in his own house, it all seemed a little crazy.  He would have to work next Friday and he didn’t think he could get away.  With his ex-wife not around, the half-empty house was too quiet. “Oh well, just one of those things,” he thought to himself and he called up one of his friends to go see a movie.

The week passed by and Darren was extremely busy at work.  By Friday morning, he had almost forgotten the incident. But at noon, the memory came flooding back, and he suddenly knew he had to go and meet the old man again. He asked his boss for the afternoon off, feigning illness and drove to the trailhead.  He arrived at the parking area about two o’ clock, but it was empty. He waited a bit, and a car came with a young couple and their son.   Within 30 minutes they had walked to the tree and back with the little boy begging to go to McDonald’s.  “I’ll wait another fifteen minutes,” said Darren to himself.  No other cars came, so he started back down the gravel road to the main highway, when he saw the old man’s ancient car coming in. They stopped in the road and rolled down their windows. The old man had a teenage boy with him. 

Where are you going?” the old man asked.  “I told you we would be here this afternoon.  That tree is not going anywhere.”

Darren shrugged and backed up his car to the parking area. Everyone got out and the old man said, “This is my grandson, Joseph.” Darren stuck his hand out and the teenager returned the favor with the softest touch Darren had ever felt in a handshake.

“Everyone calls me Joseph,” said the teenager, “but Grandfather here also has another name for me. He brought me to this cedar tree a few years ago.  He said he met you here last week and that the tree had talked to you.  Grandfather said you’re lucky.  He says it’s better than video games, but I’m not too sure about that.  Do you play video games?”

“Sometimes, but probably not as much as you,” Darren replied. “I’m glad to meet you Joseph. I’m not really sure why I came or if the tree really talked to me, but there is something unique about it.  Your grandfather told me to take some cedar boughs home, but I’m not exactly sure what I am supposed to do with them.  I guess I came to find out.”

“Oh, I can tell you about that”, replied Joseph. “Grandfather doesn’t talk so much he just shows me a lot of things, and oh yeah, he teaches me some old Indian words sometimes, too.”

The old man said “you guys are already talking too much, like I knew you would.  Anyway, we got some things to do at the Cedar, so let’s go.”

When they arrived at the tree, the old man sang his monotone song again in the ancient language of his people. Darren whispered to Joseph, “What is he singing?” 

Joseph answered, “I don’t know all the words, but mainly he’s thanking the tree and all other cedars for all they have done for our people and our ancestors.  Do you see those long marks on the trunk?” 

Darren replied, “Yes, and I wondered how they got there.”

This time the old man spoke.  “When I was a child, my grandmother brought me here and we stripped part of the bark off the tree.  It’s not enough to kill tree, like cutting the tree down does. My grandmother told me that the bark from this tree and many others like it provided for our people in many ways " even clothing.  Most of the big ancient trees are long gone, cut down by Whites who didn’t understand now a single tree could provide much for humans without being cut. We can take some of the bark, and the boughs and even some of the wood if done in the right manner, and the tree will live on. My grandmother told me that her grandmother had come to this particular tree, and her grandmother before that. So this is why this tree is sacred to us. But that doesn’t mean we worship the tree.  The Creator made this tree.”

Darren was astounded by what the old man said. He wasn’t sure he actually believed it.  How could a single tree be visited by that many generations and how could bark be made into clothes? 

As if he could read his mind, Joseph said “Most people don’t believe my grandfather, even members of our family.  But I do. He knows a lot about this area and the history of our people before the Whites came here. Maybe you could tell him someday, huh, Grandpa?”  The old man only grunted.

“I would like to hear more”, said Darren.  “This tree is special I have to admit it. I felt it the first time I came here, but didn’t know why.  I always took trees for granted, we have so many of them around here, even though I know this whole area was logged off years ago.  The original trees, I mean.  But they all grew back.  Of course now with all the houses and subdivisions, there’s not as many……” His voice trailed off.

He looked at the old man and his young grandson.  For the first time in his life, he suddenly felt like he might have real friends with them, even though he just met them.  If they would let him be a friend.  His thoughts turned to his ex-wife.  “Let’s just be friends”, she had said when their divorce was final. It had sounded crazy to him then, but he suddenly realized he didn’t know what true friendship was, whether man or woman.

He looked back at them and said, “I really would listen and I would like to know more about what to do with the cedar boughs at my house.  When we’re done here, I’ll buy you dinner and you can tell me more.  The old man smiled ever so slightly and said, “go ahead and touch the Cedar tree and say what is in your heart.”

 

Author's Note

All feedback accepted. This is my first attempt at a short story.