TREES CANNOT BE MEN

By Ben Greenman

from forthcoming collection, as yet untitled

The millennial anniversary of Big Timothy, the yew tree in the churchyard off of Asper Boulevard, is to be celebrated next Wednesday by a reception by the mayor and an exhibition of relics that have been in its shade over the centuries, including a flat gray stone, a child’s wagon wheel, arrowheads, a rusty license plate, a piece of paper containing the original lyrics to the popular ballad “Hearsay Witness To Your Love,” a moose skull, coins totaling $4.35 in face value but worth well over a hundred dollars, prophylactics both used and unused, a broken-off arm from a theater seat, jewelry of various types, and pieces of at least four Bibles. Wide, calm, and green, Big Timothy is estimated to be the eldest surviving tree in the region, though there are those who dispute the title and award it instead to Charter Mel, the pine by the supermarket. The mayor will read a proclamation in Big Timothy’s honor and will then renew his vows to his third wife, Susan, who will then tell a joke about how she is exactly 975 years younger than the tree, but feels a great connection to it as she is attracted to older men. The deputy mayor, who is currently dating the mayor’s second wife, will then remark that trees, while they can be older, cannot be men, at which time the assembled crowd, estimated to be roughly fifty in attendance, will groan at his fastidiousness and evident discomfort.