Chapter Seven The Lumberjack Aesthetic
WILDER
The snow is falling harder, and the wind is whipping it into my face. This is why men have beards. It’s probably the only thing keeping my face from freezing like Jack Nicholson in The Shining.
Zander trudges along behind me, his own beard catching snowflakes and making him look more and more like a ripped Santa Clause.
“Are we even going in the right direction?” he asks.
I look back at him with a raised brow. “We’re going uphill. Toward trees. It’s not complex navigation, Dora.”
“My toes are going numb.”
“That’s called consequences. You should’ve brought better boots.”
He waves his hands in the air, swatting at the snow. “This snow is like… personal. It’s aggressively snowing at me.”
I chuckle. “The weather isn’t targeting you, princess.”
“You can’t prove that.”
“Well, if it is targeting you, you must’ve done something really bad to piss Mother Nature off. What happened? You piss in a sacred stream or something?”
He actually looks thoughtful for a moment. “No… no, I didn’t. Definitely not.”
“I don’t love that you’re actually thinking about that.”
My mind won’t stop thinking about my poor turkey back at the house, alone and vulnerable with the Three Stooges.
Instead of freezing my ass off, I should be back in the cabin’s kitchen, cooking it myself.
All the time I spent with Mrs. Clay learning how to prepare the perfect bird…
Thanksgiving is her favorite holiday, so we really focused on turkey, but now I’m wondering if it would’ve been better to just get a pre-cooked ham instead.
Even those boneheads couldn’t mess that up.
Adjusting the ax on my shoulder — which we found in a storage shed outside the house — I look around, trying to spot a tree that would fit in the living room.
“Have you ever cut down a tree before?” Zander asks, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.
“Nope.”
“Really? You look like a fucking lumberjack,” Zander snorts. “Yet you’ve never cut down a tree?”
“It’s an aesthetic," I grumble. “Looking like I could do something and actually doing it are two very different things. Like Carson looks like he should know how to do his taxes, but he has to use his fingers to count past ten. And why are you so shocked about me? Have you ever done this?”
“Nope.”
I let out a short chuckle. “Well, great. This should go flawlessly.”
Zander snorts. “Oh, yeah. As long as we don’t kill ourselves, I’ll consider this a rousing success.”
“What if we don’t come back with a tree?”
He shrugs. “I said what I said.”
My lips twitch into a half-grin. “I’m good with low standards.”
He chuckles, seeming to relax. The very next moment, he takes a step and suddenly his feet are in the air. He lets out a shout as he goes crashing to the ground.
I walk toward him, spotting the patch of ice he slipped on. The snow that had been hiding it before seems to have been disturbed by his footprint. He’s laying on the ground, face first in the snow. I lean over him. “You okay, man?”
He lets out a long groan.
“Just leave me and save yourself. I belong to the wilderness now.”
Laughing, I offer him my hand and help him to his feet. “Come on, drama queen. If I show back up without you, Rylee will rip my balls off, and I rather like them where they are.”
“Yeah, she’d eviscerate you.” He stands, then his gaze goes wide. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! There’s snow in my pants!”
He dances around, kicking out his legs to try and dislodge the trapped snow, though I know that’s only going to make it melt faster. It just makes me laugh harder until I double over, dropping the ax on the ground as I hold my stomach.
“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up,” Zander whimpers. “Let’s just find this tree and get this over with.”
It takes me a few moments, but I manage to pull myself together and pick the ax back up. I suppose we should hurry up so Zander doesn’t get frostbite on his dick. We continue on and I can’t help when a couple chuckles slip out of my mouth. Each time they get free, Zander shoots me a murderous look.
A few minutes later, we step out into a small clearing, and towards the middle spot a pine tree that actually looks pretty perfect. It looks to be about twelve feet tall, which would fit perfectly in the living room we’ve got here, with its high ceilings.
“This one work?” I ask, coming to a stop in front of it.
Zander looks the tree up and down, like he has a fucking clue.
“Yeah. Looks good.”
“Cool. Here ya go.” I hold the ax out for him, but he just looks at it with a frown.
“Uhhhh…what?” He blinks up at me. “Why are you giving that to me?”
I furrow my brow. “So you can chop down the tree.”
Shaking his head, he actually takes a step back. “Why me? I thought you’d do it.”
“Why would you assume I’d do it?”
“Because…you’ve been carrying the ax?”
“So?” I shrug, still holding the ax out. “I carried it so you could conserve your strength.”
His eyes widen and his jaw drops open a bit. “Dude, I’ve never swung an ax in my life! Plus, I have snow in my pants. Haven’t I been through enough?”
Fuck me. I release a long groan.
“Jesus Christ,” I grumble. “All right, I’ll give it a try.”
Zander takes another step back, giving me room as he continues to shake his legs.
I approach the tree and plant my feet. How hard could this really be? Just swing and hit the trunk. No big deal.
Bringing the ax back, I swing with all my might. When I hit the tree, the force of the impact reverberates up my arms and stings my hands.
“Motherfucker!”
“What?” Zander asks. “You okay?”
Gritting my teeth, I don’t answer and yank the ax from the trunk to swing again. I hit it, though I miss my first slash and make a totally new one.
“Goddamn it,” I snarl.
Pull the ax out, swing it again. This time, I land between my two previous cuts. I hack at the tree a few more times, doing my best to aim, but I can’t seem to land it in the same place twice. Fuck. I should have kept searching until I found a handsaw. This ax shit sucks.
“Let’s move it along, bro,” Zander calls out. “I don’t want to get frostbite on my balls.”
Stopping, I glare over at him. “If you’re in such a hurry, then you give it a try.”
Zander wrinkles his nose, clearly wanting to shoot me down, but then he releases a long sigh.
“All right, fine. Gimme the ax.”
I happily hand it over and step back to give him room. I watch as he hacks at the tree, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from smirking in satisfaction as he struggles just as much as me.
We switch on and off, hacking at the tree until my arms ache and sweat is running down my back. At one point, I step back and wipe my arm across my forehead as I take in our progress. Crazy that you can get so hot in these cold temperatures.
The trunk’s not in good shape, either.
Jesus. It looks like an army of drunk beavers has been going at this thing. I don’t know how the fuck it’s going to ever stand up straight, but that’s not my problem right now. I’m getting this motherfucker down one way or another.
Zander and I take turns a few more times until the tree’s trunk finally gives way with an ominous crack and the tree goes toppling over.
“Holy shit!” Zander exclaims. “We did it!”
“Yeah.” I do feel a surge of manly satisfaction as I gaze down at our handiwork.
“All right,” Zander declares, reaching down for the tree. “Let’s get this back to the…” He tries to lift it and freezes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He blinks at me and then says, “It’s heavy as hell.”
God-fucking-damn it.
“Oh… shit.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is such bullshit. I’m going to buy only fake trees from now on.”
“I think I’ll do that too.”
He looks up, his green eyes suddenly shimmering. “What if we think about it as part of training? Keeping us fit for our next game.”
I shrug. “I suppose that could help us stay motivated.”
“That’s right. All about those gains, bro.”
We both take hold of branches on either side and begin making our way back to the house, following our footprints in the snow.
“I think we bit off more than we could chew,” Zander murmurs, yanking on his side of the tree. “Have a do-over Christmas, they said… it’ll be fun, they said…”
“My Christmas wasn’t even that bad,” I grumble.
The sudden sound of a branch snapping behind us makes us freeze.
Zander looks over at me with wide eyes. “What was that?”
“I dunno,” I say, trying to sound calm, though my heart is racing. “Snow falling from a tree?”
“Yeah,” Zander nods, his voice squeaking a bit. “That…that’s probably it.”
We hear another sound, like footsteps crunching in snow, and Zander’s face drains of color, leaving his dark beard even starker against his face.
“Are there… bears around here?” he whispers.
Swallowing, I look around and nod. “It’s Colorado, man. There’s definitely bears.”
Another snapping sound has us both jumping into action.
“Fuck!” Zander cries. “Run, dude! Run!”
We take off, dragging the tree with us.
“Are we supposed to run from a bear?” I shout. “Aren’t we supposed to play dead or something?”
“Go right ahead and try that,” Zander replies, pumping his free arm and plowing through the snow like a cartoon roadrunner. “You’ll buy me some time. Your sacrifice will not be in vain!”
“Just keep running, you idiot!”
I can hear something chasing us, the sound of branches shaking and snow crunching unmistakable—oh, God! I don’t want to die like this! I always imagined I’d go in my sleep as a shockingly fit silver fox after fucking a beautiful woman all night long. I don’t want to be bear chow in the woods!
“It’s getting closer!” Zander yells. He tries to look over his shoulder and loses his footing. With a startled cry, he goes tumbling to the ground, face-first into the snow, and I lose my balance, dropping the tree on top of him.
“Zander!” I grab the tree and try to drag it off him as he groans and claws at the snow.
“Save yourself!” he wails. “Tell Rylee I love her and I’ll find her in the next life…”
“I’m not leaving you!” I grab a thick stick lying on the ground and turn to face whatever is coming after us. If I have to fight a bear to save my friend, then so be it!
A dark figure darts out from among the trees, making me shriek and I raise my stick…only to freeze when a raccoon comes to a stop in front of me.
“What. The. Fuck?” I gasp, dropping my arms and the stick.
“What is it?” Zander asks in a high voice. “I can’t see. Is it a bear?”
“No,” I grumble. “It’s a fucking trash panda.”
“WHAT?”
I make a quick snowball and toss it at the fuzzy bandit to scare it off. “Get out of here, you little shit! Go on!”
The racoon scampers back into the trees, but I swear to God he flips me the bird as he goes. Was that real? No, no…I’m losing my damn mind.
“We’re not going to die?” Zander murmurs.
Turning back to him, I drag the tree off him so he can stand back up. “No. We’re not going to die.”
Once he’s on his feet, he looks at me and we’re silent for a long moment before we each point a finger at the other.
“We will never speak of this again!” I exclaim.
“No one can know about this!” he declares at the same time.
We both nod and in unison say, “Agreed.”
The threat of imminent death gone, we pick up the tree and continue on our way to the house. When we reach the edge of the forest and step out into the yard behind the house, and the first thing I see is a plume of smoke shooting into the air.