This morning, I’m at a hotel in Lexington, Kentucky, waiting to attend the funeral of my Uncle Johnny. He was my dad’s youngest brother and the last of the Marler boys in my dad’s generation.

Uncle Johnny was a loving, warm, funny, kind man. His smile had a gentleness, but his eyes had a mischievous sparkle. He and the oldest brother, LeRoy, used to tell wonderful stories about their childhood, and I’ll miss hearing the laughter they used to generate at every family reunion.

One such story was about a day the four boys went out to cut wood. I wrote the following story many years ago after hearing Uncle LeRoy and Uncle Johnny tell it at a reunion. When I heard Uncle Johnny had passed away, though I was sad to lose him, I imagined his three brothers waiting for him to arrive, before they all ran off together to find some mischief.

Marler Mischief

Darkness surrounded the small farmhouse nestled in the boot hills of Missouri, but when sun’s first light peaked over the hills, the rooster knew to begin his morning revelry. This day promised to be another thick with the heat of that summer in 1943.

The aroma of bacon and coffee followed Mother’s voice into the bedrooms, accompanied by the occasional swish of her slippers and the clank of the cast iron frying pan.

“Time to get up, boys,” she called.

Muffled voices stirred from under the pillows and blankets.

“You’ns need to get some wood chopped today,” she continued. “Winter’ll be here ‘fore ya know it.”

Robert shifted sluggishly in bed, hiding his redhead under the pillow. “The sun ain’t even up yet,” he mumbled, accidentally kicking Ray, his younger brother sleeping next to him. Ray kicked back, reinforcing Robert’s sense he’d gotten too big to share a bed.

Mother called to her daughters in the bedroom next to the boys’ room. “Carol. Marilyn. Get dressed and come eat. You got your chores to do, too. Them cows can’t wait all morning to be milked.”   

In the bed next to Robert’s, oldest brother LeRoy’s snores began to soften, while youngest brother, Johnny continued to breath rhythmically, legs hanging over his side of the too-small bed.

“Boys?  You up?”

LeRoy dragged himself to sit at the edge of the mattress and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, Mother. We’re up.” 

He tousled Johnny’s strawberry hair. “Hey, Johnny. Get up. You wanna cut wood with us today?”  Those words were magic to Johnny’s ear.

Johnny jolted up and was dressed and sitting at the kitchen table ahead of his brothers.

Robert shuffled into the kitchen, red hair still disheveled.

Mother hummed softly while she cooked. Her hair still wound in curlers, she wore a pink cotton house dress dotted with summer flowers. Daddy sat at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping hot coffee Mother periodically refilled for him.

Soon, the round table was circled by Robert’s three brothers and two sisters. Like a musical score, the breakfast conversation began softly and slowly, but graduated to loud, animated talk of the goings-on of these eight lives.

Biscuits slopped as they were dragged through runny eggs, and the percussive sound of chomping crispy bacon accompanied the morning symphony.

The boys cleared their dishes, excused themselves from the table and headed for the door. The screen door slammed behind them when they ran out of the house, four boys ambling toward the woods behind the farm.

Robert and LeRoy led the way with their lanky steps. Little Ray and Johnny skipped behind.  All were barefooted and dressed in their garb of summer – shirtless in cut-off overalls.

Mother called to her sons from the back porch, holding several sacks in her hand. “You’ns want your lunches?” 

Robert ran back to get them. “Thanks, Mother. Guess we forgot.” 

“You boys be home before dark. And keep an eye on Johnny.” 

“Yes’m, Mother.” 

Running to catch up to his brothers, he heard birds calling to each other with sweet songs, interrupted occasionally by the whiney caws of blue jays. Farther off to his side, leaves swished with the sounds of foraging deer and squirrels, and cows in the pasture mooed for their morning feed.

The early morning sun beat down mercilessly from a blue cloudless sky. The wave-like rhythm of buzzing cicadas promised an afternoon of sweltering heat.

 Hey, LeRoy,” Robert said, breathless. “Let’s jump in the creek before we start cutting. It’s gonna be a hot one today.”          

“Sounds good to me.” 

They changed directions and headed for the small creek at the edge of the woods. When they arrived, the brothers raced into the knee-deep water, one after the other.

Robert stretched out in the tepid water, and gazed at the sun flickering through the leaves, like an emerald held up to the light. Mesmerized, he meditated, while the sounds around him muffled intermittently with the water lapping in and out of his ears.

His peaceful spell was broken when Johnny splashed him with water.

“Ah, Johnny!  Why’dya have to go and do that?” 

“’Cause. I wanna cut some wood now.”  Johnny stood over Robert, hands on his hips. His sopping-wet overalls dripped all over Robert.

LeRoy said, “I guess we’d better get started cuttin’ wood anyways.”

The two older boys carried the cross-cut saw to a tree their little brothers had picked and began the slow sawing dance. Zwee-zwoo, zwee-zwoo. They moved back and forth, back and forth, until the tree was almost cut through.  

LeRoy called to his brothers. “Ray!  Johnny!  Get outta the way. Come over here and help us push it over now.” 

All four boys pushed until the tree began to fall over. A loud, crackling sound rippled, becoming louder as it descended. The tree bowed gracefully, its snapping branches echoing through the forest. When its final curtsy ended, the ground trembled.

After a moment of awed silence, they walked to the felled tree and began to cut it into rounds, one trance-like dance of back and forth after another, until it was cut into several smaller pieces.

Johnny and Ray made a game of lifting the smaller rounds and rolling them down the hill – monster marbles.

“Hey, you guys,” yelled LeRoy. “Someone’s gonna have to go down there and get them pieces now.” 

Johnny just shrugged his shoulders at his oldest brother.

“Hey!  I wanna cut the next one!”  Ray exclaimed, grabbing for the saw.

“Nah…you ain’t big enough.”  Robert grabbed it back.

Johnny rubbed his stomach. “I’m hungry. When’re we gonna eat lunch?” 

“Yeah, let’s take a break and eat somethin’ now,” LeRoy said. “Where’re them sandwiches, Robert?”

Robert pulled them out of his overalls. “I got ‘em right here.”

“Ah man. They’re gonna be all squashed now.”

“Well, what’dya expect?”  Robert looked a little irritated. “Where was I supposed to put ‘em?  At least I took ‘em out before I jumped in the creek.”

“Let’s just eat,” said LeRoy. “I’m hungry.”

Johnny ran over and grabbed a sack from Robert. “Yeah. Me too. This cuttin’ wood is hard work.” 

“I think it’s boring work,” said Robert, opening his sack.

“What’dya mean boring?” replied Ray. “At least you and LeRoy are doin’ somethin’. All me and Johnny get to do is stand around and watch.”

“Yeah, and stay outta the way. That ain’t no fun,” said Johnny, his mouth full of peanut butter sandwich.

Robert rolled his eyes and took another bite. Suddenly an idea came to him. “Hey LeRoy,” he said. “I know how we can make cuttin’ trees more fun. What’dya think about riding one of them trees down?” 

A smile lit LeRoy’s face. “Yeah!  Great idea!”  But the smile dulled. “But who’s gonna ride the tree?  We’re the only ones who can do the cuttin’.”

Robert said, “Hey Ray!  You ain’t big enough to saw, but if yer bored, we got an idea for you!” 

Ray looked at them wide-eyed. “What d’ya mean?”

LeRoy explained. “You just climb to the top of the tree. We’ll push it over and you get to ride it down!”

Ray gulped. “Uh, I dunno,” he said hesitantly. “What if I fall off?”

“Just hang on tight and you won’t fall,” said Robert. “Anyways, you ain’t chicken, are ya?”

“Course I ain’t. But what will Mother say?”

“Ah, we ain’t gonna tell Mother about it.” 

“Well, okay. As long as Mother don’t find out.”

Robert and LeRoy winked at each other and searched for the perfect tree. Adrenaline filled Robert with new energy, and they soon found the perfect tree for Ray’s ride.

Once again the older boys began their sawing duet. Back and forth, back and forth. Zwee-zwoo, zwee-zwoo.

When the tree was almost cut through, Robert called to Ray. “Okay Ray. We’re ready for ya. Get up there and let us know when yer ready and we’ll push. Then just hang on tight.”

Ray ascended while his brothers watched. They gazed upward, mouths agape.

“Okay!” Ray yelled. “I’m at the top. Uhhh, I…I…don’t know about this. Hurry!  I can’t hold on for long.”

LeRoy and Robert pushed until they heard the crack of the breaking trunk. They stood at the base of the tree and looked up, shading their eyes with their hands. Although Robert’s heart pounded with excitement, his body froze with anticipation.

The tree began its graceful plunge.

 “Yeehawwww….” Ray yelled.

Robert and LeRoy grinned and smacked each other a high-five. Johnny jumped up and down, clapping his hands.

The tree started to fall faster – too fast.

The boys hadn’t considered the change in the speed of descent now that Ray was at the top of the tree. Nor had they anticipated another problem:  the branches of surrounding trees clawed at Ray like a tiger’s paws trying to grab him off the wild ride.

LeRoy murmured to Robert. “We done messed up.” 

Robert’s mind was plagued by the terror of Ray’s injury—even death. He prayed fervently, at the same time imagining Mother’s switch on the back of his legs.

“HANG ON FER DEAR LIFE, RAY!!”  Robert shouted.

Johnny stood back and cried a mournful wail.

Robert could hardly stand to watch, yet couldn’t tear his eyes away. He wanted Ray to be off that tree. Wanted them all to be home with Mother and Daddy and Carol and Marilyn. Wanted to be hauling water or shucking corn or hanging laundry or feeding chickens – anywhere but here, helplessly watching his little brother on that dang tree.

“AAAAHHHHEEEEE!!”  Ray’s scream pierced above the buzzing cicadas.

The three brothers ran to where the top of the tree might land. But they were stopped in their tracks by the familiar thud of the monster tree.

Robert watched with new dread as the tree bounced up, tossing Ray off.

Dazed, Ray stood up and looked himself over. He was still in one piece – and alive.

“Thank you, God,” Robert whispered to himself.

“Why Ray, you look like an old tomcat done been in a fight,” said LeRoy, sounding breathless.

Fire shot from Ray’s eyes, and he took off after his older brothers. “I’ll punch yer lights out,” he yelled, while the pursued laughed so hard they could hardly run.

Robert turned around to remind Ray of their promise. “Hey, Ray!  You can’t tell Mother about this!  She’d take a switch us!” 

He walked back to Ray and put his arm on his shoulder. “You know we was just havin’ some fun. We didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” 

Exhausted, Ray surrendered. “Yeah, I guess.”  He looked at his brothers again, a spark of anger lingering in his eyes. “I might still punch yer lights out someday. But I ain’t gonna tell Mother on ya.”  He looked down and softened his voice. “We’re brothers after all.”

Johnny contributed to the ceasefire. “Yeah, and brothers don’t tattle on each other!”

The four boys dropped to the ground, stomachs aching from laughter.

“You reckon one day we’ll laugh about this, and wonder how we survived?” LeRoy asked.

“Yeah, I reckon,” they replied in unison, sparking another round of laughter.

The light of the sun dimmed and cast a pink light through the leaves, and the nagging sound of cicadas was replaced by the frogs’ gentle croaks.

Robert stood up and dusted himself off. “It’s gettin’ dark,” he said. “We best git home. Mother’ll be expectin’ us.”

Note: Yes, I missed a day. But that’s okay. Like a spoiled diet or a missed day in an exercise streak, I’ll just pick up where I left off. 🙂