Page 8 - Contrast1989

CONTRAST 1989

When Trees Become Trees
By Laura Balakir

I was equipped With a cheese sandWich
(and Mom put in some Tasty-Rakes for reinforce-
ment), my dragon sword (hand-carved from a
branch), and my notebook. With these provi-
sions I stood looking up into a green fortress,
today my kingdom. The maple leaves expanded
in a sun-speckled dome casting dancing shad-
ows on the rooms of my castle. Sturdy, familiar
branches stood extended to be secret passages
and catacombs in my labrynthine palace.

"Squire! Lower the drawbridge!" I com-
manded in my most impressive morning bellow.
I hooked my sneaker into the rope rung of the
bridges and started my ascent into fantasy,
slinging my supplies over my shoulder in a
bundle. Today was beast-fighting day. Grog,
the terrible, would roam Widefrom the East to
crush and destroy the little-people With fire-
breath and smoke. I must be prepared. After
appointing several guards as lookouts, north,
south and west, I assumed my eastward post,
scanning for signs of Grog. I was prepared to
wait. THATDRAGONMUSTBE DESTROYED!I
began to scribble down in my notebook: "A
proper King must defend his Kingdom." This
became a first axiom in my handbook for
dragon -fighting.

I waited patiently, staring intently toward
the boundaries of Mr. Lang's backyard. Grog
always came that way, beating the ground With
her heavy, scaled feet. Why was she taking so
long? I reached into the brown bag and pulled
out my sandWich, peeking under the bread.
Good- no mustard. I was just beginning to pull

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