Arborist, The (2025)

[bunniefuu]

- Shh!

Shh!

Please.

Shh! Please don't cry.

Please, please, please, please.

Shh, shh, please be quiet.

Please be quiet.

Please don't cry!

Please, please!

Please, please!

Shh!

- Just don't look at it.

Shh, shh, shh.

Shh!

Shh!

Please!

Please don't look!

Wyatt?

Rachel?

Rachel?

No.

No!

No!

- Picea abies.

Quercus alba.

Fraxinus americana.

- Norway spruce.

White oak.

American ash.

- Good.

And that one there?

- Betula papyrifera.

- Not quite.

European white birch.

You can tell by the bark.

Peels less.

Leaves are triangular.

The double serration

is more pronounced.

How did it start?

- Don't know.

- The caretaker said 11:30.

Maybe there's another

door we can try.

- Hi, Ellie.

This is Nicky Gallagher from the

bereavement group at Windsor.

I haven't seen you in a while.

I hope you're doing OK.

I just wanted to see if you

got the package I sent you.

It's for the photography

project I was telling you about.

I know it sounds weird,

but a lot of people

say it's very healing.

Anyway, I sent you a

link about it, and--

- Mr. Randolph?

Sorry, I-- I tried

the front door.

Ellie Grumman.

- And the boy?

- Excuse me?

- Your son assists

with the tree work.

Isn't that what my

caretaker told me?

- Yeah.

Wyatt's in the truck.

He got a bloody nose.

- Was there an accident?

- No, no.

Just a bloody nose.

- Hm.

- That's a beautiful

property you got.

Been here a long time?

- All my life.

Plus whatever's left of it.

- Well, if you want to

brief me on the job,

we can start right away.

Caretaker said it would

take about three days?

- Somewhat more, I should think.

Murray's away for the month.

He lives in town, anyway,

so the cottage is empty.

There's plenty of

space for you there.

See the footbridge?

- Sure.

- Beyond that, there's

a carriage road.

The trees are all marked.

Everything that's

marked gets destroyed.

- Destroyed?

- Felled and split for firewood.

15 inches for the

downstairs fireplace.

9 inches for the

stove in my bedroom.

Stack it in the basement.

- It's just firewood you need?

- Can't be any

longer than 9 inches,

otherwise it won't

fit in the stove.

There's a tractor and a

splitter in the garage.

Grind the stumps up.

- We don't have that equipment.

- Then just let it rot.

- Is there a problem?

- No.

No problem.

- Whoa, you OK?

Let's go settle

in at the cottage.

- Is there something else?

- I was wondering if

I could get a, um--

an advance, a-- a deposit.

- I can do the full amount.

Check OK?

- Check's fine.

- We should've

brought sleeping bags.

- I'm not sleeping under this.

- Well, you won't have to.

It won't get that cold.

- That pillow smells

like cat piss.

- Why couldn't we

just sleep at home?

- Because that's a couple

hundred bucks in gas.

And I'm not driving two hours

back and forth each day.

Besides, I thought

being away from home

might do us some good

this time of year.

- Place is in the

middle of nowhere.

Don't even get a signal.

- It belonged to my grandfather.

Cut from star magnolia.

Don't find that species anymore.

Anyone who says arboreal

extinction isn't real

hasn't gone looking

for Magnolia stellata.

- Hey, it's your tattoo.

How come you never

talked about him before?

Your grandfather.

- I barely remember him.

How many people live in

that mansion, you think?

- Just him.

- Just the old guy by himself?

- I guess so.

- Bet our whole apartment

building could fit in there.

- Hm.

- Should take over,

become squatters.

Think there's any

fish in that pond?

- I don't know.

Why?

- Maybe I'll try to catch one.

Fry it up for dinner.

- Yeah, I don't think so.

- You don't think

there's any fish?

- No, I don't think

you're going fishing.

We didn't come here for that.

What?

- Mix it with water

so I won't notice?

Is that about right?

Put it in a shot

glass or something.

Don't try to hide

it in a water bottle

that you wrap with duct tape

so you know which one it is.

Yeah, I thought so.

- And what's that

supposed to mean?

- What's the secret?

What's the secret?

- What are you doing?

- Just watching old videos.

- Why don't you go

get ready for bed?

- Why are you doing this to me?

You got a 9-to-5

So I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again

If I can help it

- Why are we scared?

How do we heal?

I asked these women to hold

the mirror as though they

were holding their child again.

Feel the weight.

Feel the longing.

When we share

stories of our loss,

we come to terms with our grief.

We realize we're not alone.

Children are not supposed

to die before their parents.

The world moves on.

But for us, life stops.

Time is frozen in its tracks.

A piece of ourselves

is forever missing now.

The mirror is a reflection

of that emptiness.

We hold it not to

heal, not to let go,

but to realize the hole that

will forever be a part of us

now.

"Portraits of Grief."

This project was created

to support each other,

share our stories, and

know that our journey is--

- Careful.

You'll fall through.

- What are those things?

- Lanterns.

Lights.

This must have been

some kind of theater.

- Off!

Turn that off!

What are you doing?

- What does it look like?

- Not like that!

How many times have I told you?

You start the saw on the

ground, one foot in the handle,

with the chain brake on.

You do it standing up like

that, it'll kick back.

- That's how you do it.

- It doesn't matter how I do it.

I have had years of practice.

You haven't.

- Whatever.

- Do not drop that.

Look at me.

I said look at me.

- What?

- This chain moves

at 85 miles per hour.

Do you have any idea what

that'll do to your leg?

It'll shred it.

Cut right through to the bone.

- I'm sorry.

Wyatt?

Wyatt?

Wyatt?

Wyatt!

- What are you doing?

You scared me.

- This is how I

want to be buried.

Leave me for the birds.

- Get up.

I need to get a bigger

saw from the truck.

- Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Oh, God!

No!

No!

Wyatt!

- Oh, my God.

Oh!

Oh, never do that to me again.

Don't ever do that to me again.

- From now on, Edward

stays away from that canoe.

Is that understood?

- It's Wyatt, but

yes, understood.

- Wyatt, yes, of course.

Is he all right?

- He's shaken up, but OK.

He lost his phone.

- Can I see him?

- He's asleep.

- This-- this was mine

when I was his age.

I used to fish for bluegills

off the bridge over there.

He'll-- he'll have to dig for

crawlers in the north garden.

They-- they like it over

there because of the shade.

So, um, here.

- Why did you hire me?

- I-- I didn't.

Murray, my caretaker, chose you.

- Why did you hire an arborist?

All you need is a

feller with a mill saw.

- It's all the same to me.

- But why those trees?

- Pardon me?

- They're perfectly healthy.

No sign of disease.

There's plenty of firewood

close to the house.

I used to take walks out there.

Recently, I collapsed,

became disoriented,

and barely found my

way back to the house.

- What is that place?

- Well, it's a

children's theater.

Happier days.

- None of my business, then.

Help, someone!

Help, help, please!

Help!

Please get me--

get me out.

Get me out.

- Wyatt?

- Ah!

Get me-- get me out!

- Hey, hey.

Hey, look at me.

You're OK.

You're OK.

Yeah?

- Well, you are a cord of

firewood and a paycheck now.

Life's a b*tch.

--run away, come again--

- Do you remember the

dream you had last night?

- Not really?

- Is it the same dream?

The raven?

No.

I got locked inside

the closet again.

- You didn't get locked

inside the closet.

You hid in there with your

belt tied to the door.

- Whatever.

- Do you remember

why you did that?

- I was afraid, I guess.

- Afraid of what?

- That thing that k*lled Rachel.

- Nothing k*lled her.

Sudden infant death,

that's what they call it.

Basically, just sh*t luck.

- But I was supposed to

check on her that night.

So you could sleep.

- It wouldn't have

made any difference.

Bring that load to the house.

Dump it by the splitter.

"Nothing k*lled her."

"It wouldn't have

made a difference."

- Now feed the second rope

up through the first loop.

Mhm.

And then rest the working end

on top of its standing line.

All right, just pull it through.

Just like that.

Looks good.

Wanna try it again?

That tree is dying.

- What happened?

- Venturia saliciperda.

Willow blight.

That's only half the story.

You can still see where the

trunk was split a long time ago.

Probably before you were born.

- Split?

By lightning?

- Yeah.

Or maybe an ice storm.

See that dark,

glossy cambium tissue

coming from inside the cavity?

Looks almost volcanic.

That's the wound wood.

It heals up the tree

like scar tissue.

Only, in this case,

it stopped growing in.

- How come?

- Hard to say.

But it became

susceptible to fungus.

At this point, it's

basically k*lling itself.

- What k*lled her?

Rachel.

Rachel.

Rachel.

Rachel.

- Wyatt!

What's all this water?

What happened to the door?

- What door?

- The garage door.

- I have no idea.

- I saw something.

- There was nothing

under the canoe.

- I'm not talking

about the canoe.

- sh*t.

f*ck.

- Something wrong?

- Like I said, you-- you need

a feller, not an arborist.

They'll bring a crew in

with the proper equipment.

They got a mill

saw, even better.

Those pines will give

you some quality lumber.

- I'm not interested in lumber.

- Then they'll haul it off.

Look, if all you

need is firewood,

there's a dead oak in the field.

It'll give you two

cords at least.

I could have that

done by tonight.

But after that, it's

best that we go.

- You've already been paid.

- Look, what's this

really all about?

- Our door got kicked in.

- There's somebody inside?

- Not that I know of, but

there were marks on the floor.

Water.

- Perhaps it was your son.

- Wyatt says it wasn't him.

- Perhaps he's not

telling the truth.

- Wyatt doesn't lie.

- He was inside this house.

- When?

- Today.

- That's not possible.

- Come in.

Where did you find this?

- In the parlor.

Must have forgotten

to lock my doors.

Boy needs rules.

Discipline.

Give 'em an inch,

they take a mile.

Like my brother, Victor.

Got kicked out of every

school we ever went to--

public, private, parochial.

My parents hired tutors.

Didn't take to them, either.

Threw his books in

the incinerator.

- Why did you call him Edward?

- Pardon me?

- Yesterday, you

called my son "Edward."

That was my grandfather's name.

My father's name, as well.

- I don't know.

- Well, thank you for the knife.

I'll see myself out.

- Have you been inside

Mr. Randolph's house?

- What?

- I'm asking if you've

been inside the house.

- No.

- Where'd you find that?

- Wyatt, please.

- I must have lost it when

I fell out of the canoe.

- Yeah, that

perfectly explains how

it got from the

bottom of the pond

to the inside of Mr.

Randolph's house.

- I didn't go in there!

- Stop it!

Stop lying to me!

I want you to fix that

door before you go to bed.

- I didn't do that.

- I don't care.

Just fix it.

- It followed us here.

- What?

- You know what.

- Enough.

- The raven.

It's the same one--

- Enough!

A g*dd*mn bird in your closet

did not k*ll your sister.

It just happened.

That is all.

I'm sorry it was on your watch.

Stop it!

What are you doing?

- She has a name!

- Stop it!

- This is her name!

- Wyatt!

- Rachel!

Rachel!

Rachel!

Rachel!

Rachel!

Rachel!

Rachel!

Rachel!

- Wyatt!

- Stay away from me!

- Wyatt!

- Yeah.

- Please help me.

- How?

- I can't walk.

I can't feel my legs.

- Tell me what I'm

supposed to do.

- A baby doesn't just die.

I knew you could do it.

- What do you want from me?

- Your hands.

Your courage.

Wyatt-- I'm dying.

- Who's here?

Oh.

Oh, God.

- Show yourself, you!

Show yourself!

- What do you want from me?

- I-- I don't know.

- Get out of here.

- What have you done to me?

- Get your mother, pack

your trunk, and go.

Get out!

- Wyatt!

Oh, sh*t.

- Get in!

- No.

- We're leaving.

Come on!

We're going home.

- Not yet.

- Get in the truck.

Out!

Now!

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

f*ck!

Wyatt!

I just want my son back.

Whatever happened here all these

years ago, I really don't care.

- Perhaps you should.

- Who's this?

- My older brother,

Victor, and me.

He's the one in the vest.

- Jesus.

He

looks just like Wyatt

- Yeah.

And that was the estate's crest.

Coat of arms, my father called

it, back when that sort of thing

mattered.

- No, it's from an engraving

on my grandfather's knife.

- Your grandfather, Edward

Grumman, was my first cousin.

Son of Elizabeth Randolph,

my father's sister.

- What?

- He spent most of

his summers here.

That is, until the tragedy.

I gather you never spoke

to your family much.

Edward was more than my cousin.

- Why did you keep this from me?

- He was my best friend.

We-- we fell out of

touch over the years.

Things were never the

same after that summer.

- You lied to me.

- I wanted to know you first.

My bloodline is all gone.

You and your son

are all that's left.

Where are you?

Where are you!

Please!

You can't

make me do this!

- What were those

children doing here?

- They were orphans.

A new group came for

a week every summer.

All this open space where they

could just run and play and just

be happy kids.

My parents were dealt a

privileged hand in life.

They felt this was the

least they could do.

A pageant evolved,

a tradition inspired

by the pagan solstice

and the creatures

of these ancestral woodlands.

Songs recorded by

our music teachers.

Costumes stitched together

by my mother's maid.

My parents wanted to give them

something magical, transcendent.

Something that

defied the humdrum

of their orphanage, the

bleakness of their existence.

They slept in the parlor

after every forest pageant.

It was part of the fun.

And it was an evening

they never wanted to end.

But Victor-- there was

always something not right

about Victor.

I once heard my mother say

that he came out of the womb

with a knife in his boot.

The joy our parents

gave to those orphans,

it tortured his mind,

blackened his heart.

And that night was

colder than usual.

Victor knew he could make

it look like an accident.

He thought he was so

damn clever about it.

He even bragged it

to me afterwards.

He called them mangy strays.

No one will miss them, he said.

No one will cry.

- --the bodies

of our brothers and sisters,

that they may rejoice in

you with your saints forever

and ever.

We ask this through

Christ our Lord.

Amen.

- He said he'd k*ll me

if I ever told anyone.

So I didn't.

- What happened to him?

- I asked him to meet

me on the bridge.

- You drowned him.

- No, no.

I-- I-- I only pushed him.

The rock knocked him out.

And the water did the rest.

The police investigator

said he jumped.

Who was I to suggest otherwise?

- Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Wyatt.

Stop!

Stop!

Stop!

- He made me do it!

He said I had to k*ll it.

I had to k*ll them all.

- OK, OK, calm down.

- It was right in front of me.

It was right there.

He said I had to k*ll them.

- Stop!

What are you talking about?

- No!

- Wha--

- If I have to

give another g*dd*mn toothbrush

to these shits, if Daddy asks

me one more time to be polite,

share my toys,

and let them win--

no wonder their

mommies didn't want

them, the mangy f*cking strays.

- I'm sorry.

Sound the alarms

The animal charms are

drifting in the air

The power beyond compare

Looking for it to dare

The otter is not swimming

'round in the water

Where are you today?

She swam down the

stream to the--

Sound the alarm

The animal charms--

- What's out there?

The raven?

- It's too dark.

I couldn't see.

- You won't eat.

You won't sleep.

Would you at least

drink some juice?

You take what's yours.

I don't want these things

in my house anymore.

Just take what's yours and

leave this place for good.

Just-- leave this place!

And the boy's not Victor.

You leave him alone!

You got no business here!

Don't you know I think of you?

I remember you.

I remember all of you.

Take me

instead, if you must.

There's nothing more

I can do for you.

- k*ll him.

- He's not Victor.

- Soon.

It will be soon.

- Then do it yourself.

- How are you feeling?

Can you eat?

Your boots are still wet.

I-- I didn't want to

dry them last night

while you were sleeping.

- Why are my boots wet?

- Wyatt?

- No.

Stay here.

No!

Wyatt!

Help!

No!

No!

Wyatt!

Ah!

sh*t!

- "And thou art dead.

As young and fair as

aught of mortal birth.

And form so soft.

And charmed so rare.

Too soon returned to Earth."

The priest proffered

those words,

but there was no

funeral for you.

Father was exhausted by

funerals that summer.

Your death was just a footnote

in a summer of unspeakable loss.

How dare you thieve on mourning

for those innocent children!

You jumped from the bridge.

How easily

they were all fooled.

You m*rder*d seven

innocent children.

I have atoned for my sin.

Can you account for yours?

- Victor.

- Get him!

- Wyatt!

Wyatt?

Wyatt!

Where is he?

Wyatt!

- These weren't here before.

I've been in this room.

None of these

photographs were here.

- Yeah, but they were.

They've always been.

You just couldn't see 'em.

- I-- I don't understand.

- I didn't exactly collapse at

the children's theater that day.

I-- I fell to my knees.

I begged them, forgive

me, I beseech you.

That was about a year ago.

- A year ago?

- That's when I first

started noticing things.

Lanterns hung in the trees.

Footprints in the garden.

Sticks whittled to spears.

The smell of wet

fur after a rain.

I destroyed those

photos years ago.

And there they are,

still cursing me.

Mocking me.

The book says, "yet he does not

leave the guilty unpunished.

He punishes the children and

their children for the sin

of the parents to the third

and fourth generation."

You don't have much time.

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Out in the water

Oh, where are you today?

Just ride down the street

to the neighbor's farm

To help him mend the fence

- You were the one that

had the idea for that song.

You sang it to the

sparrows, the wood frogs,

and whatever other little

critters you could catch

bare-handed--

before you cut their legs off,

gouged their eyeballs out,

burned them with a

magnifying glass.

Madness aside, you were

always the creative one.

Walk me to the pond.

- How could father

do that to you?

Every summer, bring

those orphans here,

shower them with his love.

He never even spoke to you.

He didn't know you.

He didn't even see you.

- Walk with me.

- It never should have happened.

The children with

poison in their lungs.

Water pushing into yours.

Me on the bridge.

Blood on my hands.

There hasn't been a day when I

haven't begged your forgiveness.

Or cursed your existence.

- This brother, this boy--

- Is no brother of yours.

Let him go.

The only thing that binds you

to him is this broken family.

Our forgotten past.

- Not our past.

Our secrets.

- It's not too late, Wyatt.

Unshackle yourself

while you still can.

I have

missed you, Victor.

Hm.

Wyatt!

Wyatt!

Wyatt.

Wyatt!

- Come on, come on.

- Mom, I got it.

- Well, hurry then.

You're freezing.

- Where are we going?

- We're just going.

- Wyatt?

Let's go.

- I'm practicing.

- What?

- Practicing!

- Practicing what?

- The saw!

Starting the saw, like

you always told me to do.

"Put the chain brake on,

test the chain brake.

Saw can't hurt you if the

chain brake's engaged.

One foot through the

handle to stabilize it.

You don't pull it standing.

You're too small.

The kickback alone

will knock you off your balance.

The g*dd*mn chain moves

at 85 miles per hour.

You know what kind of damage

that'll do to your leg?

Do you have any g*dd*mn idea

what kind of damage that'll do

to your leg?"

- Wyatt!

- Yes.

- Where is my son?

Floating in the pond.

Tangled in weeds, fish

pecking at his flesh.

- No.

I saved him.

- You lost him.

Your child is mine now.

Empty basket.

- Give me my son.

- For what?

- So he can lock himself

in the closet again.

Bite off his nails

and piss his pants?

- I'm not leaving, Wyatt.

I am not giving up on you!

Wyatt?

- Help!

Help!

Help me!

Please!

Please, help!

Help!

Help me!

Help, Mom!

Mom!

Somebody help!

Mom!

Mom, please, help me!

Please!

- Pull!

As hard as you can!

- They won't move!

- Stay calm.

I'm gonna get you out!

- I'm scared!

- I know.

- Please, put her back!

- What's in there?

What's behind you?

- Please, just make

her stop crying!

- No one's crying.

She's gone.

- No!

No!

No!

- I picked her up

from the crib--

because she was crying.

I thought she'd settle if I

just held her on the couch

for a little while.

I was careful with the

way I held her head,

like the way you showed me.

I watched her fall asleep.

It was so peaceful.

The whole house was quiet.

And I was happy.

But then I-- I guess--

- You fell asleep too.

- And when I woke up, she

was pinned under my arm

against the back of the couch.

Her skin was blue,

and she wouldn't move.

I didn't know what to do.

So I put her back in the crib,

but she wouldn't wake up.

I tried to go back

to sleep, but--

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry!

I'm sorry!

I'm sorry!

- It's not your

fault. It's not your fault.

We're going to be OK now.

Aquilegia canadensis.

Thuja occidentalis.

- Canadian Columbine.

Northern white cedar.

- --immediately adjacent

to the structure.

I just have some documents

for you to sign--

inheritance disclaimer, the

title, insurance policy.

I suggest you file a copy of

each along with your property

deed.

- Look at this.

Probably the only thing

here is still in one piece.

Let me throw it as far as I can.

- OK.

Um, take a picture of me first.

- What?

- Take my picture.

I'll explain later.

- You ready?

Can I throw it now?

Don't hold your breath

Forget you ever

saw me at my best

You don't deserve

what you don't respect

Don't deserve what you say

you love and then neglect

Now bite your tongue

It's too dangerous

to fall so young

Take back what you said

Can't lose what you never had

I feel no need to forgive

But I might as well

But let me kiss your lips

So I know how it felt

Pay for my coffee and leave

before the sun goes down

Walk for hours in the

dark, feeling all hell

You've got a 9-to-5

So I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again

If I can help it

In five years, I hope the

songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers

You got a 9-to-5

So I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again

If I can help it

In five years, I hope the

songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers

You got a 9-to-5

So I'll take the night shift

And I'll never see you again

If I can help it

In five years, I hope the

songs feel like covers

Dedicated to new lovers