Letter to Tree Huggers et Al.

Dear Tree Huggers et Al,

I know how trees are good, I know that they gon save the world by absorbing carbon and so on...that is why I got this li’l dilemma now...

...let me start from scratch - which is what this bleddy ingrate of a lime tree do to me every time I pass it, every single blessed minute I go near that tree to work on other plants, that tree scratch at me with sharp, shrewish plimpa, man look, I does get so vex I does want to - anyway, as I was saying, lemme start from scratch.

Some months ago, I write about this lime tree. To refresh memories, look the story here again:

We lime tree is behaving like a hard-mouth, vex woman. Kinda like that young teacher-nun with the unyielding spirit. Amongst them happy-go-lucky nuns in we high-school, she been so displeased all the time that them girls-students used to whisper and giggle, she need a man.

For five years we lime tree been taking up space in we backyard, breathing in precious carbon that other trees could very well use…and not a lime it produce.

“Mummy, you think I should threaten it?”

“No, don’t threaten it, it gon bear,” me mother say. The way she talk, so full o’ sympathy, you would think the lime-tree was she pickney, she very own chile.

Forget scientific reasoning. Threatening a fruit tree is the best way to get it to bear, ask any self-respecting gardener here. You hold you cutlass, knife, axe, saw over the tree and say, “You [expletive of choice]…if you [expletive of choice] don’t grow I gon chop you [expletive of choice].”

And the next thing you know, the tree does bear fruit.

When me was a teen, I witness this once, with me own two eyes. And as everybody know, once...one, single time...is absolute proof for all times.

Was a typical happy morning, sun shining, fluffy white flocks sleeping in the blue sky. All o’ we been in we yard. By all o’ we, I mean the regular motley crew - siblings, brothers friends, dawgs, cats, parrot, turtle and so on.

Suddenly, just by the edge of the garden in front, I spot my second brother, F., tall, dark and fierce, furrowing-up he eyebrows, holding cutlass, muttering to he friend, kind, gentle F. [Both o’ them got the same initial for they first name].

What the!?! I sidle up to find out.

My brother whispering to he friend, “I gon threaten it, and you gon say, no, no, don’t chop it, give it a chance.”

The two o’ them walk over to we tangerine tree. This tree never bear not even one, single, solitary tangerine in all the days we know it.

Brother raise he cutlass. “You….if you….don’t start to bear I gon chop you...”

“No, no, don’t chop it, give it a chance.”

“You think I should give it a chance? You really think so?”

“Yes, give it a chance.”

The tangerine tree musta think, look at these two F., threatening me. I gon teach them a good lesson.

The tangerine tree bear one, single, solitary tangerine. It been so sour that everybody who taste it, they tongue twast sideways for days after.

The tangerine tree never bear again.

Me mother say if I threaten the lime-tree it might do like what the tangerine tree do; give it time, it gon bear properly and plenty.

Well, I put fresh earth, cow dung, compost, I water it. I waiting.

As for the sour-mouth nun from we high-school days, I hear she didn’t bother to take all she vows; she leave to marry. I hope she smiling now.

Maybe we lime tree need a man.

Well Tree Huggers et Al, I do everything that dear readers suggest, I talk to the tree, I sing, whisper, plead, I mole-up the tree, threaten it...I do everything except give it a man because I couldn’t find a willing one...and what a good thing I didn’t because hear this now...and this is what is causing me dilemma...

The other day Mr. Tin-Can [who used to collect tin cans to sell] come here to weed...that is right, we don’t use chemicals in this here Amazon-garden. My mother casually mention to Mr. Tin-Can that the lime-tree refuse to bear.

Mr. Tin-Can who don’t really do gardening but, like all good Guyanese he got opinions, say in he quiet, well-mannered way, “Well Missis, that is a man tree. Man tree don’t bear. You gon got to cut it down.”

Cut it down! Cut down a carbon-absorbing tree! And I don’t mean just threaten. I mean actually do the deed. So Tree Huggers et Mr. Al Gore, you see me dilemma now? To cut or not to cut.

I’m begging you, please don’t petition me, I feel guilty enough already. And don’t think of coming here to hug this tree, like I say, it is a’ ingrate, one that gon scratch your eyes out.

I ain’t know what to do.

Yours, ever tree-lovin’ gal but I am quickly changing me mind with this here bleddy miscreant,

G.G.