The Widow Maker

I shouldn’t have come into work today. You see that old pine over there leaning against that other tree? We call that there a widow maker. It’s called that because if it falls on you, you’re dead. I’d know - saw it happen four days ago.

Truth be told, I’ve only been a lumberjack for a few months now, so I’m basically a novice myself, but that didn’t stop my dumb-ass boss from putting me in charge of training the new hire. The new guy was a scrawny kid who looked like he should still be in middle school. His name was James, and when I told him he was too young for this job, he laughed. He seemed to think it was funny when I told him he wouldn’t last a week, too. I wasn’t joking, though. Kids like him usually went home after the first day of work and didn’t bother coming back; I couldn’t imagine him finishing a whole week.

The kid was insistent that he was tougher and stronger than he looked, though, so we drove out into the forest. The morning went ok; I even started to think I might really have underestimated the kid; I told him so at lunch, but I warned him not to get too cocky about it.

We were felling cedars that day, and I pointed to an old rotting one that had started coming down on its own before getting caught in another tree. I told the kid about widow-makers, just like the guy who trained me had done. The kid laughed and said he wasn’t married, so he had nothing to worry about. I persisted in my warnings; this was a dangerous job, and trees like that kill a lot of good people.

“How bad can it be?” he said, grabbing a chainsaw, swinging it around his head like he was Leatherface. Damn kid was making me mad now; I was about to tell him to put his chainsaw down and get his ass off the worksite if he was going to act like that, but I didn’t have the time. He stumbled toward the tree and cut into it a bit – not much, but with how rotted and precarious the tree already was, it was enough.

Something big and brown flashed before my eyes, and the next thing I knew, the kid was gone. I called out his name, then called for help, but I already knew it was pointless. My heart pounded as I walked over. I didn’t even know what to expect – I’d heard a lot of tales of people dying on this job, but I’d never seen it. I assumed the kid would be a puddle of blood. So, I was surprised to see the kid moving on the ground – thrilled though! I had been sure the kid would be mulch, but it seemed like the lucky son-of-a-bitch might live after all.

Then I saw it – the tree had come down on his right shoulder, and I guess one side of the tree was a bit sharp, because when it hit him, it just kept slicing right through him. It obliterated everything in its path, which happened to run in an angle down to his left thigh. What I’d seen moving was the last third or so of him that was left.

He crawled toward me, sliding along the ground with terrified eyes, reaching out to me with his last remaining arm. Before I could do anything, he coughed up blood and collapsed, twitching a few times before he finally went still.

I took a few days off work after that, obviously. Hell, I considered not coming back at all. There had to be other jobs I could do that didn’t involve seeing shit like that, you know? But I don’t exactly have many job prospects these days; I made a lot of bad decisions that gave me a criminal record and got a shit-tone of gambling debt on top of that, so I need the money. Besides, I thought it might be good to get back to work. At night, I’d been hearing someone sliding along the ground, coughing and sputtering between raspy breaths. Seemed like it would be good to keep my mind busy so I didn’t go nuts, so might as well work.

Well, if I was expecting things to get better today, I was wrong. Any time I’m left alone for two seconds, I see the kid. He’s pulling his body along with his one remaining arm as I speak, getting closer inch by inch, leaving a trail of his guts behind him.

Like I said, I shouldn’t have come into work today.