05 Timber

We take a look into Jack's job

05 Timber

 

0530. Big bold red numbers, and a squawking noise loud enough to wake Jack no matter what room of the apartment he was in. He reached over the blanket and smacked the ‘Off’ button. Jack wasn’t a morning person. He thought about coffee, swung his legs around and planted his feet firmly on the floor, his back hunched over, face still sleeping in the palm of his hands. Rusty was also gradually waking; he stretched his limbs as far as they would reach and opened his jaw as wide as it would stretch. Jack finally stood, his whole body aching with semi consciousness. The light was spilling in through the blinds, it was hot again. He walked into the living room and flicked the AC on. He shuffled around the small island to his kitchen and started microwaving a very small jug of milk, dumped 1 spoonful of coffee granules into a cup followed by 1 spoonful of sugar. After 1 minute the microwave pinged, he poured the milk over the granules and they dissolved as he swirled the drink in his hand.

It was Monday; he slowly pulled on his black shorts, then his breathable blue t-shirt that bore the star of life and the word ‘MEDIC’ on each sleeve. He reached in the fridge and grabbed his sandwiches that he had made the night before, packed them in his backpack, gabbed his keys and left his apartment with Rusty.

 

The logging site was about 5 kilometers from the village, deep in the woods. The only way in and out was a single-track dirt road, not ideal for road cars, but it didn’t matter because everyone that worked at the site carpooled in off-road 5 seaters that the company provided; B.C Timber. The drive out usually took around 30 minutes, although after the storm on Saturday they had to stop a few times to clear the road.

 

Jack and Luke worked together at the logging site. There were two teams, the fallers and the loaders; Jack and Luke were working on the loading team. Everyone knew that the fallers were the James Bonds of logging, they were the ones that created the destruction, they wielded the chainsaws, swung axes, and ripped wooden skyscrapers out of the ground. Jack and Luke were part of the team that wrapped the chains around the fallen, pushed buttons and pulled the levers that made the machines raise the massive trees onto a flatbed that would eventually drive off down the dirt track and return empty handed.

 

The tree was about 120 feet tall and about 8 feet around at chest height; average size. Al, Eric and Steve were falling today. Al had already cut a 4-foot wide wedge out of the base in the direction of the fall, now he was on the opposite side cutting through like butter, just above where his wedge had been cut. The tree was still sturdy, showing no sign of giving. Eric started sledge hammering small plastic wedges in the butter-cut while Al and Steve stood back and spotted for danger.

The sound of the tree’s life was starting to creak at its base. The large pie-slice-shaped hollow in its trunk started to fold into itself. There was a loud crack, the sort you hear from wood in a fire, except this crack was loud, deafening, echoing around the life of the un-fallen.

She starts to lean in pain; gravity speeds up the leaning process crossing the line between balance and inevitable collapse.

 

“TIMBER!!”

 

More cracking bellows out of every nook of bark, she reaches a 45-degree angle and the noise swells into one consistent shriek. Her body swings down ferociously slamming into the dirt followed by the head, fumbling through the air and bouncing to a lifeless dead end. The ground vibrates and a whoosh of air pours through the crowd. Finally a swarm of pine leaves and branches rain from above, all around. The un-fallen stand and stare in silence for a moment before the sound of voices and machines start up again. 

Author's Note

subject to change, work in progress