AUTHOR: rotifora
August 10th, 2014 - August 1750
America let out a wide and noisy yawn as he trudged behind England hours before daybreak. If England heard he paid no heed. Today was the last day of England's ambitious project of securing more timber for his ship building, not that America was keeping count, and was very anxious to complete the quota. America on the other hand was depressed as soon England would depart in a few days. It was August and England did not want to be delayed by storms that frequently plague the Atlantic this time in the year and lose cargo that America and Canada have been steadily working all summer long.
This time he covered his mouth as he yawned and rubbed the last of his sleepiness away and caught up with England in one-two-three quick strides and jostled his sack to a comfortable position on his shoulder. The shadows cast by the oil lamp he and England carried played cruel jokes on America as his imagination has always run wild in the night. He hopes that there are no ghosts nearby. America decides to stop his sudden nervousness and breaks the silence of the woods.
"What is the amount you want done by morning, England?" America asked as they neared the designated clearing.
"I have marked the trees suitable to be chopped yesterday as I oversaw the men at their work so we shall start with these first and work in a circle along the clearing." England explained while pointing with his arm to his right. America simply surveys the trees marked with a nailed red cloth and with a resigned voice, "I guess Canada won't be joining us?"
"No, I have sent him to do other errands for me in town and won't have time sufficient to help you, though you and I are aware that you are more than enough." England said this with a knowing look and with a bare hint of pride which made America slightly thrust his chest out.
"Then you can count on me and get the job done!" And with that statement America lifted his ax and with a great swing and a loud echoing thunk began chopping the nearest marked tree.
America was already on his eighth tree when England reminded America to be discrete in his hacking away on the wood as to not draw out attention so America slowed to a steady rhythm.
On his twenty-ninth tree, America was barely making a sweat when England decided to join him in felling several particular large white pines that would be used for a mast on many warships of the Royal Navy. Sharp exhales and grunts were made between the two as they jointly shared the work. On the last white pine daybreak peaked over the horizon and with complimentary chops they worked their way to the center and then England gave the signal and America pushed the mighty pine down and down it went with a loud crack and crash. America felt exhilarated, for good reason because England hardly ever partook in menial labor with him. It reminded him of his early years with England and him a little colony trying to be of help to England in building a house or fence, or more likely fixing a torn wall that America had accidently went through. England now prefers to pour over legal documents and trade agreements and whatever else those meetings he sometimes went with official looking men in Boston or New York. America dared a look at England and saw that he too looked very pleased.
England noticed and gave one of his rarest smiles and America responded back with the widest one he could manage. It seemed that losing sleep had a definite benefit as America will look back on this morning and be reassured of his place in England's heart once he departs across the ocean and not knowing when he will return back.