Chapter 2 - II

Jackson Paretinly was the mayor of Dalerville, Conneticut.
And Jackson Paretinly hated imperfection.

Mayor Paretinly woke every morning at 6:30 a.m. sharp, without an alarm. He lived alone in a large condominium where everything ran like clockwork. Jackson had once had a girlfriend, Arlene, in the sixth grade, but it was over quickly. Relationships were too messy. Kiss here, hug there; Jackson wasn’t able to program every moment into his trusty companion, his blackberry.
“I’ll never leave you,” Jackson said, kissing his blackberry. He did this every morning after he showered and combed and parted his knotless blond hair that sat like a helmet on his head.
He sauntered over to the window and looked outside. Two clouds sat like boats in the otherwise cloudless indigo sky. A digital thermometer next to his window told him the temperature. 65 degrees was perfect to wear one of his powder blue button down shirts and a pair of khaki tan corduroys. All of the mayor’s shirts were made of 100% cotton dyed powder blue. His pants were tan, all of them reaching down to exactly his ankles.
“Today’s the day”, thought Jackson. “The day I cut it down.”
The biggest and burliest men from the around the area were coming at noon. Crosscut saws and axes would be provided. The men would take their cutting device and start hacking away at the forest; Jackson’s worst nightmare for twelve years.
Some people believe trees can’t feel anything. Those people are wrong, or maybe the forest just contained a bit of magic. Either way, when the men came one day about a moth ago to discuss what to cut down first, when and where to start, that kind of thing, the trees shuddered. They screamed and shuddered and sighed and moaned. Deep sounds came from the bottom of their trunks and went out the tips of their rustly fingers. The forest was scared, for the first tree to be cut down was the Great Oak.

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