Redwood Revenge

The spirits looked on as the man cut the sacred tree, the white man, they had come from across the sea and taken their land, their lives, and now their sacred grounds. But they would not let them take away their resting grounds. They all flooded into the tree, overwhelming it with the power and causing it to shudder.

The man stopped swinging his axe for a moment, he could have sworn the tree had just shook. It should have been impossible for the tree to shake. It was way too big and he had barely made a dent in the trunk. After a moment he resumed his cutting. He began thinking to himself of all the things he was going to buy with the money he got after cutting the tree down. He figured the first thing he was going to get was one of the new chainsaws his friends had. His had broken down which was why he had to use the axe.

He continued swinging the axe, until finally the tree quivered and shook, and came crashing to the ground. He used his chains to load it onto the trailer and then pulled it to his house. When he reached his garage he pulled out his planer and began to cut the wood into sheets according to the order. He got twenty sheets and pulled them into his garage to store until morning.

The white man had cut down the tree, trapping them inside of it. They could not escape, and now they were split into pieces, they needed to escape. But they could not. They were able to reach out, as if stuck within a cage that they could stick out their arms and legs but not escape. They tried to grasp the objects in the room but only succeeded in knocking them down. Nothing they could do would free them.

The next morning the man went out to his garage to find all his tools lying all over the floor. There was no sign of anyone having entered. No footprints in the sawdust save his own. Yet the evidence was all around him. He chalked it up to a bunch of kids who decided to mess with him and put everything back.

After lunch he loaded several pieces of the brand new redwood sheets into his truck and drove into town. He stopped first at the carpenter who wanted to make a table and dropped off two sheets of wood. Then he drove over to the luthier who wanted to make a new guitar for his nephew.

Finally he dropped one off at the artist’s, who planned a brilliant masterpiece with a brilliant redwood canvas. After his deliveries he went home and counted all the payments he made for the sales. He had just enough to pay for his expenses but not enough for his new chainsaw. His mind drifted to the remaining wood in the garage. Who could he sell them too?

They were now separated, they could no longer communicate with each other and they each had their own troubles. The carpenter was making them into a table, the luthier was fashioning a musical instrument out of them and the artist was painting them.

Several years later there was a beautiful painting displayed in the mansion of a wealthy businessman. It’s painted on a lovely piece of redwood that creates a very enchanting effect on the painting. Several of the residents of the house claim to feel hostile vibes coming from the painting but nobody does anything about it. One night the house burns to the ground while the family is out of town. The cause seems to be from several logs being pulled out of the fire, but there was nobody home at the time.

They were on display in a house, a white man’s house, they needed to escape. The reached out trying to escape, managing only to brush the people who were near them. They finally managed to move the fire to the floor and set the house ablaze, as their prison burned they were able to escape but were drug right back into another with their brethren.

In a separate part of the country a redwood guitar was being moved with several other old instruments, the moving van was suddenly struck by an invisible force and rolled one hundred feet before bursting into flames and causing a loss of about $15,000. Luckily nobody was hurt and almost everything was able to be replaced. Except for the one-of-a-kind redwood guitar.

They managed to gather enough collective energy to knock over the moving vehicle, they hoped to escape but they only managed to get squashed into pieces by a large box. Then suddenly a spark from the grinding metal caught some packaging. The fire spread quickly through the cardboard boxes, eventually reaching and burning the guitar. They finally escaped but were quickly sucked back into one of the other traps.

Almost the same time a house, halfway across the world also burnt to the ground, destroying everything including a wonderfully made redwood table. The family was compensated for the fire but they mourned the loss of the table they inherited from their cousins who lived far-away.

The spirits struggled to reach the gas valve, they wished to save the families house. But it was too late. A spark from a faulty wire caused the place to burst violently into flame. The spirits were released and then quickly drawn into the final object.

One day I was feeling lucky so I went to the local auction. I arrived and browsed through the items. One of the things that really caught my eye. It was a lovely redwood piano, I fell in love with it right away. The piano was magnificent and I knew the perfect place to put it in my home. I bid $100 right away and after several minutes of back and forth between an older gentleman and myself I managed to secure the piano for $550.

I took it home and put it right in the middle of my living room. I sat down and played for a while. Despite how old it was it was in perfect tune. I figured they had tuned it before the sale. After an hour I closed the piano and slid it against the wall and went to my kitchen to prepare my dinner.

That night I woke up to hear something in the living room. I thought someone had broken in so I grabbed my cell phone and a baseball bat, I walked slowly across the house towards the sounds. As I got closer I realized the sound was someone playing the piano.

I recognized the song as the one I had been playing that evening. Yet it was a song I had written, I didn’t even write it down anywhere so how could anyone be playing it! I opened the door and flicked on the light. Suddenly the piano slammed shut. There was no one in the room. I looked at the piano closely and noticed a small chip from when the lid slammed shut. There seemed to be some kind of fluid leaking out of it.

There haven’t been any other disturbances since and I’ve since fixed the chip in the piano. That night continues to puzzle me even to this day.

The piano was their final prison, they had to escape, they fought violently but they couldn’t get out. Then one day a strange man brought them to his house and began to play it. Such a smooth and calming sound, so delicately played. They watched the man with awe as his fingers danced across the keys. That night they tried themselves to recreate the sound. They were suddenly startled when the man opened the door. They slammed the piano shut, in doing so it cracked, they were suddenly sucked out, forcibly shot out of the refuge into the open air. Yet a few desperately clung, longing to stay but were eventually overpowered. Then all of the spirits were returned to their burial grounds where they are doomed to remain forever.