… handsaw and cherry …

It was a boy with a handsaw.
“Hullo.”
“Hullo. I want something. What’s in the net?”
“Things I got. Why you have a handsaw?”
“I’m cutting down these trees – you’ll help me!”
I liked looking at his skin and the way his limbs moved inside it and especially the specifics of his eyes, if I could get a good look without him catching me, because it seemed to bother him a lot. The things he said were perplexing – more to interesting and fascinating than bewildering and dumbfounding, but not yet by any amplitude – if I could get him to say more, that would be the thing. Here was someone endeavoring to do something I had never considered. If I could only understand, it would increase my ability to draw motives, such that I couldn’t see for players in my game. There was so much more I needed to understand.
Besides, I could see he wasn’t very efficient with a handsaw. I could show him how to use it without saying anything about it, and maybe things would become easier all around.
I put the saw to a limb that would be better pruned and made quick work of it.
“There! … Want to take a turn?”
“That was just a little one – not a whole tree!”
“Why you want to cut down a whole tree?
“ ‘Cause.” He took the saw and stepped toward the big cherry tree.
“Aw, that’s not one to cut!” I said, hiding my panic as casual advice. “Here, do this one!” I said, pointing to a decrepit pear tree, its trunk half-dead, mostly ready for burning without even any curing.
He sidestepped up next to the big cherry.
“No, really, I like that one to stay!”
He put the blade against it.
“Look, it has cherries on it right now!”
He pushed the blade forward.
“You can’t cut a big, healthy trunk with a blade like that – it’ll just get stuck.”
He started sawing with a deliberateness tinged with fury. Of course the blade pinched at its depth. I could see he was angry. The air already smelled of cherry wood. I waited to see what he would do next.