I head back to the house, considering my idea. Perhaps I can do one thing to make her life easier. I’m not sure how I’ll do it, but I’ll find a way.
When I return, I’m annoyed to find Khesan in the living room watching television. But then I think that perhaps, he can help me with my idea. I will still receive the credit for it, even if he assists me.
“Khesan,” I say, approaching the couch. His suspicious face snaps up to mine. “I have a plan. Remember this ‘Christmas tree’ that Fiona spoke of?”
He nods slowly, suspiciously. “Yes.”
“I’ve found one. Perhaps we can bring it for her, so it’s one less chore leading up to the party finished.”
His brows rise. “Oh?”
“I have no way to cut it down, though, and I would need assistance retrieving it.”
He regards me skeptically. “I don’t know how we would cut it down, either.”
“She must have a tool around.”
Reluctantly, Khesan agrees with a snap of his claws, and we both begin searching the house for some method of cutting through a large diameter of wood. The knives that Fiona uses for cooking are much too small, but I’m not sure what else we could use.
I search the downstairs while Khesan heads out into the garage, where he is certain Fiona keeps her tools.
“Shathar!” I hear him call after another hour of searching. I follow the sound of his voice into the room where Fiona keeps her car, and he holds up a thin metal object with a handle and a serrated blade. “I believe this is what we need.”
I could hug him. This is exactly the device that will do what we require. Still, I don’t want to give him a big head, so I clear my throat and nod once.
“Good. That will do it.”
Armed with the cutting device, I show Khesan down the street to where I found the tree.
“It is like she described,” he agrees, surveying the tree. “And it should fit inside the house. Not too tall.”
I preen. I found the perfect tree after all.
Aiming the serrated tines of the device at the wood base, I experiment with how it works, and soon I am sawing, watching the wood part gradually under each stroke. It is tough going, but I refuse to look weak in front of Khesan. Still, I am only a quarter of the way into the tree when I feel like my arms might give out.
Khesan chuckles. “Tired yet, old man?”
I sigh. “Yes.” I step back from the tree and shake out my hands, offering him the device this time. “See if you can do better.”
Khesan starts furiously sawing, and he does make faster progress, but I can see sweat coursing down his forehead the longer he goes. Soon, though, he is halfway through the tree, and we both hear a creak!
“Watch out!” calls Khesan. He grabs me by the arm and yanks me off to one side. I am about to yell at him for giving me such rough treatment when the tree tilts, then crashes down to the ground right where I was standing a moment before.
Khesan wipes his forehead with his hand. “You can say thank you.”
I growl. “Thank you.”
But he really did save me from severe injury. I shake myself out, a little winded from my near-death encounter, and then we both gaze down at the felled tree.
“Let’s take it back then?” he asks. I get my arms around the scratchy branches, glad for my scales to protect me. He does the same with the base of the tree, and together we heft it into the air. I settle it over a shoulder and he does the same, and laboriously we carry it back to Fiona’s home down the block.
Getting it through the door is a challenge, and we leave pine needles everywhere, which I will clean up later. Then we navigate it into the living room. But once we erect it with the stump on the floor, it immediately tips over.
“Vakha,” I hiss. “How do we keep it up?”
“You didn’t plan for this, then?” says Khesan with a smirk.
“Did you?” I shoot back. I have to keep one hand on the tree to keep it erect.
