Around the Table
Mango Trees
It's nice to take a vacation once in a while. Everyone needs a break sometime. Mine happens to take place high in the mountains of Colorado in a small little building that has a nice view of all the snow everywhere. Fresh, cool air is always available up here. The one odd thing about this place was how, at the very top of the mountain (my little house was on the slope 40 meters down), a group of trees thrived. These weren't evergreen trees or anything, despite the fact that the leaves remained very lush and fruits fresh. Yes, this tree produced fruit; it particularly made mangoes. How a bunch of mango-making trees ended up on the mountain (and actually surviving the cold climate) was a really big question.
I didn't think much about it, those trees, until two weeks after I arrived. I made the daily trek to the top with my skis to shred some serious snow, but this particular day stopped me in my tracks. The trees were orange; leaves, trunk, branches, everything. I picked out a mango from the tree, cut it open and tasted it. It was a regular mango. But why were the trees orange?
I took out my cell. I made a call to my colleague who happened to know tons about plants as a botanist. It would take a couple days for him to arrive, so I had to start the investigation with him.
The now-orange leaves were very rough (rougher than it had previously been) and evicted from within a strange slime. No one was around, and for all I knew it could just be tree urine (I didn't know a lot about plants; they were 'living things,' so shouldn't they urinate, too?), so I decided to tear the leaf off from the tree and suck the slime away from it.
I don't know what urine tastes like. But if I did, then this is probably what it would taste like. Disgusting. As a result, I puked all over the snow and got a little nauseous. I decided to lay down in the snow for a while. I planned to stay there for only a little bit, but soon enough by consciousness drifted away like a bottle in the sea.
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I was lounging in my Victorian chair (I was told that the Queen sat in it once; it was a nice chair of a hefty sum) when I had received a call from Pete. He was on his vacation, and this was about two weeks into it. He told me about mango trees that had grown on a mountain, and he had asked me what happens when mango trees turn orange. Honestly, I have no idea what he's talking about. For one, I don't think -- no, I know -- that mango trees do not grow in the mountains of Colorado. I also know that mango trees are not orange. They are green. Mango trees are freaking green. At least the leaves are. Mango trees grow on typical freaking regular-looking trees. I decided to check it out anyways.
It took me a few days to get to the mountain of Colorado. I expected his house to be near the base of the mountain, which is why I told the pilot to fly the helicopter back. I also expected myself to lounge in his house and take my own vacation. Apparently, when I looked up, Pete's house is up on the slope of the very mountain. God, that is a lot of walking I have to do. And the hike began. I kind of wish I didn't send the helicopter back.
It took me about an hour to reach his house. The door was locked, so there was no chance of going in. Pete probably went out to check on the trees. I could see them from here, but not very clearly. For all I know, Pete might be playing a prank on me. I mean, orange mango trees? Come on. Unbelievable. Especially on a mountain.
That was my attitude until I got closer. Pete wasn't joking. There really were mangoes growing on orange trees up here. It was really unusual, and, of course, my instincts as a botanist wanted me to take this entire group of trees back to the lab and figure out just what the heck was going on with them. I would have done that, honest, until I saw puddle of rebel-smelling goop with Pete next to it. I wanted to check on Pete, but the disgusting, chunky formation next to him repelled me. I'm not going near that thing. It smells to bad. It looks to gross. I took out my cell phone to call for help, but there wasn't any signal. I reviewed my two choices: circle around and check out the tree, or walk all the way back down the mountain to look for a town and get help there.
I took the first choice. I sure as hell am not going to walk that far. Plus, this orange mango tree could really give me a boost in my career.
I walked around the group of trees to where both Pete and his disgusting mess were out of sight. I stepped closer to the trees. They really were orange. I poked the trunk. It was dis-enchantingly slimy. Reaching up, I decided to tear off a branch to bring to the lab and have a biological analyzation of it.
My hand wrapped around it, and I tugged. My grip slipped from the branch due to the slimy substance on the branch, and I fell backwards. I regretted my decision. I kept rolling down the slope. I lost any chance of recovering from this fall as I roughly descended the slope, and the slope itself continued to beat at my limbs and body...
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That botanist Winchester told me to fly the helicopter back to his lab for some reason. You would think he'd still need transportation. Why not let me hang around? Oh, well. I raised the altitude of my flying machine and took a look at that mountain. I was quite curious about this "mango tree" business. It was a hilariously cloudy day, though. Dangerous for flying. Whatever. If Winchester was tough enough to deal with the weather, then so am I!
I realized that I had no way to tell where the peak of the mountain was; I should have checked earlier. The helicopter wasn't ascending very swiftly, but it had been a good ten minutes of it. I decided to stop and take a good look around, and to try to spot the mountain itself.
All I could see was white.
It was time to give up. There's really no hope in flying in these clouds trying to find a snow-covered mountain. What was I thinking? Mango trees on a mountain, please. It's probably just a prank. I leaned back in my seat. I could use a little relaxation. All this thinking about nonsense was really exhausting.
I descended. The machine hovered beneath the clouds. With Heaven above my head, I turned the helicopter around and began to journey back to the helipad.
At least it should have went like that.
The moment the aircraft turned, the side began to take a steep dive. Out of sheer panic I pulled what steered the helicopter towards me, and the machine began to swivel upon an invisible axis as if it were some sort of massive gyroscope. The speed of the event had me disoriented and I couldn't find the mind to pull the craft or myself back together. I screamed.
It was even worse when the machine itself crashed into the mountain. The mountain tore away the tail as it threw my aircraft hurtling towards both the heavens and the Earth. As my head smashed against the side of the cockpit, my end result was in a metal cage of hellish fires.
I didn't think much about it, those trees, until two weeks after I arrived. I made the daily trek to the top with my skis to shred some serious snow, but this particular day stopped me in my tracks. The trees were orange; leaves, trunk, branches, everything. I picked out a mango from the tree, cut it open and tasted it. It was a regular mango. But why were the trees orange?
I took out my cell. I made a call to my colleague who happened to know tons about plants as a botanist. It would take a couple days for him to arrive, so I had to start the investigation with him.
The now-orange leaves were very rough (rougher than it had previously been) and evicted from within a strange slime. No one was around, and for all I knew it could just be tree urine (I didn't know a lot about plants; they were 'living things,' so shouldn't they urinate, too?), so I decided to tear the leaf off from the tree and suck the slime away from it.
I don't know what urine tastes like. But if I did, then this is probably what it would taste like. Disgusting. As a result, I puked all over the snow and got a little nauseous. I decided to lay down in the snow for a while. I planned to stay there for only a little bit, but soon enough by consciousness drifted away like a bottle in the sea.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
I was lounging in my Victorian chair (I was told that the Queen sat in it once; it was a nice chair of a hefty sum) when I had received a call from Pete. He was on his vacation, and this was about two weeks into it. He told me about mango trees that had grown on a mountain, and he had asked me what happens when mango trees turn orange. Honestly, I have no idea what he's talking about. For one, I don't think -- no, I know -- that mango trees do not grow in the mountains of Colorado. I also know that mango trees are not orange. They are green. Mango trees are freaking green. At least the leaves are. Mango trees grow on typical freaking regular-looking trees. I decided to check it out anyways.
It took me a few days to get to the mountain of Colorado. I expected his house to be near the base of the mountain, which is why I told the pilot to fly the helicopter back. I also expected myself to lounge in his house and take my own vacation. Apparently, when I looked up, Pete's house is up on the slope of the very mountain. God, that is a lot of walking I have to do. And the hike began. I kind of wish I didn't send the helicopter back.
It took me about an hour to reach his house. The door was locked, so there was no chance of going in. Pete probably went out to check on the trees. I could see them from here, but not very clearly. For all I know, Pete might be playing a prank on me. I mean, orange mango trees? Come on. Unbelievable. Especially on a mountain.
That was my attitude until I got closer. Pete wasn't joking. There really were mangoes growing on orange trees up here. It was really unusual, and, of course, my instincts as a botanist wanted me to take this entire group of trees back to the lab and figure out just what the heck was going on with them. I would have done that, honest, until I saw puddle of rebel-smelling goop with Pete next to it. I wanted to check on Pete, but the disgusting, chunky formation next to him repelled me. I'm not going near that thing. It smells to bad. It looks to gross. I took out my cell phone to call for help, but there wasn't any signal. I reviewed my two choices: circle around and check out the tree, or walk all the way back down the mountain to look for a town and get help there.
I took the first choice. I sure as hell am not going to walk that far. Plus, this orange mango tree could really give me a boost in my career.
I walked around the group of trees to where both Pete and his disgusting mess were out of sight. I stepped closer to the trees. They really were orange. I poked the trunk. It was dis-enchantingly slimy. Reaching up, I decided to tear off a branch to bring to the lab and have a biological analyzation of it.
My hand wrapped around it, and I tugged. My grip slipped from the branch due to the slimy substance on the branch, and I fell backwards. I regretted my decision. I kept rolling down the slope. I lost any chance of recovering from this fall as I roughly descended the slope, and the slope itself continued to beat at my limbs and body...
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
That botanist Winchester told me to fly the helicopter back to his lab for some reason. You would think he'd still need transportation. Why not let me hang around? Oh, well. I raised the altitude of my flying machine and took a look at that mountain. I was quite curious about this "mango tree" business. It was a hilariously cloudy day, though. Dangerous for flying. Whatever. If Winchester was tough enough to deal with the weather, then so am I!
I realized that I had no way to tell where the peak of the mountain was; I should have checked earlier. The helicopter wasn't ascending very swiftly, but it had been a good ten minutes of it. I decided to stop and take a good look around, and to try to spot the mountain itself.
All I could see was white.
It was time to give up. There's really no hope in flying in these clouds trying to find a snow-covered mountain. What was I thinking? Mango trees on a mountain, please. It's probably just a prank. I leaned back in my seat. I could use a little relaxation. All this thinking about nonsense was really exhausting.
I descended. The machine hovered beneath the clouds. With Heaven above my head, I turned the helicopter around and began to journey back to the helipad.
At least it should have went like that.
The moment the aircraft turned, the side began to take a steep dive. Out of sheer panic I pulled what steered the helicopter towards me, and the machine began to swivel upon an invisible axis as if it were some sort of massive gyroscope. The speed of the event had me disoriented and I couldn't find the mind to pull the craft or myself back together. I screamed.
It was even worse when the machine itself crashed into the mountain. The mountain tore away the tail as it threw my aircraft hurtling towards both the heavens and the Earth. As my head smashed against the side of the cockpit, my end result was in a metal cage of hellish fires.
Completion Date: 7-10-12
How about them Mango Trees?
Tue, 10th July, 2012
The end result wasn't really what I was looking for. I guess I was just rushing to finish it. That last part needs more beef, and I may have to go back to feed it hamburgers.
Honestly, this one could go on and on about how people encounter trees die and the people they know die and how people die all the time because of fruity trees that are orange in color.
What do you think?
Honestly, this one could go on and on about how people encounter trees die and the people they know die and how people die all the time because of fruity trees that are orange in color.
What do you think?