Continuing Chance - Cover

Continuing Chance

Copyright© 2014 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 3

After we got our NZCAA grounding done but were still on probation, Grace said, "Ok, David. You've been brooding like a mother hen expecting chicks. What is the matter?"

"Nothing," I replied.

But she must have seen something in my eye, she thought it might be anger.

"Who are you mad at?"

"Nobody," I was very short with her, " ... I'm not mad at anyone."

"You're sure? You don't look like it. Let me try again," she said.

I stormed out of the house.

The past month, I had felt the need to ... I don't know what ... something. I had been stupid beyond all expectations of forgiveness and I didn't know what to do or how to bring it up, so ... I built a treehouse.

When Leith built the house, he was adamant that the existing trees be preserved, contrary to accepted construction practices. Accepted construction practices called for 'leveling' the lot. A homesite with no obstructions is an easy place to work. Besides, there is a certain expectation of remuneration when the builder sells the wood from the leveled lot.

"I don't want to wait until I am as old as Methuselah to look out my window and see a tree taller than I am," Mr. Leith told the architect who told the contractor who told the builders ... several builders ... until one was found who would leave the trees ... at least the ones within thirty feet of the building proposed ... or so local lore has it.

Dunedin is in a sort of rain shadow and trees grow best when they have reasonable expectation of sufficient water. Tightly packed tree rings means a lack of rainfall. Wide rings mean rain, plenty of it and fast growth.

But the man with the money calls the shots. The trees stayed.

The back yard had some thick trunked poplar ... probably ... or so I thought ... until the timber man tried to buy our Agathis.

"Timber Act of '49," he said. Didn't mean a thing to me.

"I like my trees."

"In case you change your mind," he left his card.

What the hell is an Agathis?

I knew one way to find out; King Edward Technical College has an excellent biology department, and I work for KETC. So ... I found the Biology Offices ... and ... at seventeen ... I have to admit ... I look like a student.

The lady behind the desk sent me up to the only man in the building who wasn't, at the moment, teaching. I followed her contorted directions and found T.C. Whittier Ph.D. in his office. I rapped.

"Come in, come in, come in," he sounded peevish. "You're Austin?"

"Yes, Sir," and I started to tell him the rest but he broke in with,

"Are you my student?" I can't really blame him for the question, if I had been in his classes he would recognize me.

I tried but he overrode me.

"If you're looking for forgiveness for missing class ... Forget it."

"Well, no ... I need to know about trees."

"We're not there yet ... don't try and jump ahead when you're so far behind." He ruffled his hair, "Why?"

"What's an Agathis?"

"You don't need to know that ... there's just a few this far south ... Why?

"A timber man wants to buy mine, and I worry."

So he said, "The genus Agathis, commonly known as kauri or dammar, is a relatively small genus of twenty-one species of evergreen tree. The genus is part of the ancient Araucariaceae family of conifers, a group once widespread during the Jurassic period, but now largely restricted to the Southern Hemisphere except for a small number of trees in Malay Peninsula.

"The uses of the New Zealand species (A. australis) included shipbuilding, house construction, wood panelling, furniture making, mine braces, and railroad ties ... He wants to buy yours?" He scratched his head with his pencil. Through his balding hair I could see the evidence that this wasn't the first time.

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