The Path of Fate The Talking Tree. by The TaleWagger I also remember the day that the tree spoke to me. It was in August of '43, or maybe the following one that the tree spoke to me. I was making my way home for dinner through the orchard, having spent the morning playing in the local park when, I decided to pick a couple of apples. The technical term used by all of us for this practice was 'scrumping' and, if caught by the orchard owner or one of his staff, often resulted in the summary justice of 'a clip round the ear'. As this was not something that you could get used to and lightly dismiss, it was a case of grab them, stuff them in your shirt or pocket, and leg it quickly. I approached the apple tree, quickly decided which two apples to acquire and stareted to climb up. It was then that a voice muttered a few words that I did not instantly recognise. I froze, wondering who was hiding in the tree and at the same time desperately trying to think of a legal reason for being there. Not only could I not think of a reason but neither could I see anyone. The voice in the tree repated itself and added a few more words that did not make any sense to me. No longer believing that 'stolen fruit are the sweetest' and that self-preservation was paramount, I legged it home empty-handed. I reached the safety of home with my heart pounding and my brain bemused. Next day my mother said a neighbour had asked if I would look out for her missing bird. It has escaped from her house and was very precious. It was a red and green parrot! After my mother explaining what this unknown-to-me bird looked like, and that it could mimic human speech I asked if could say: "Who's a pretty boy then!" The answer was in in the affirmative and the mystery of the talking tree was solved. However, the parrot was never seen again by me and it was never returned to its owner. I reckon that a soldier or an airman found it and made a few bob by selling it on; pets were in short supply and exotic pets must have been almost impossible to obtain. I remembered the particular tree well, as not many weeks later I was returning home from school when a lone German fighter plane attacked the anti-aircraft gun that was sited in this part of the orchard. As it screamed in to machine-gun the gunners, I ran for shelter behind that particular tree. Suddenly a stray shell thudded into its trunk and for weeks afterwards I visited the scene to unsucessfully attempt to remove it. I suppose that it might have ended up as a souvenir but maybe not! Small, used shell-cases were converted into cigarette lighters and large ones had part of the top removed and were used as ashtrays. Smoking was rife then, as good food was in short supply and stress levels were high. My brother was much older than I and, at the start of the war, had joined the Royal Navy. On his was his first leave after active service in the Meditteranean Sea, he came home with something else that that was new and strange to me. Although, or perhaps because, he was fourteen years older than I was, we got on well and he had brought me a present from the Med. I could not remember ever having seen anything like it before. It was a peculiar crescent shape, squarish in cross-section and yellow. It was a banana! Nowadays they are commonplace but then I was probably the only kid in the village, maybe in the South of England, to have one. It was gorgeous! From then on, when he came home on leave, I rushed to see if he had brought me another, but he never did. I know he would have if he could. The Path of Fate Click here for: Hitler hated tomatoes! The TaleWagger can be contacted at: thetalewagger@hotmail.com

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