“Here.” She handed it to him.
“WHAT?” Tank asked, now completely discombobulated.
“Take it, please. Brings this whole thing to its rightful end. I insist. My husband died, left me a successful business, insurance policy, house. I can afford it. Please.”
Trying to catch up…Just a few minutes prior, he was terrified of being prosecuted for a murder he didn’t commit, and losing what little he had left in a lawsuit. His mind was so mixed up, all he could do was sit and shake his head. Overwhelmed with emotion, or maybe it was just relief it was all over, Maybelline squeezed his hefty shoulder tipping this bruin of a man to break down as they all let loose one way or another, Oak smiling at Maybelline while Maybelline looked up at the sky at Millicent. Finally composing himself, Tank eked out an emotional, “thank you”. After Oak and Maybelline left (to find an Urgent Care), Tank remained at the picnic table for awhile, shaking his head, crying grateful tears of relief.
Chapter 27
The first person Maybelline called on their way to the doctor for Oak’s soon be diagnosed broken collar bone and rib fracture—completely ‘relaxed’, he landed on his left side, the upside to being thoroughly wasted when falling from a tree, a blessing according to the doctor who was amazed the injuries were not worse—was Tamara. This resulted in a squeal and transfer of the phone to Tanya who feared her daughter was being played. Tanya then squealed at the news that Maybelline had fallen from the tree and was seeking care while the whole thing played out between Oak and Tank. Maybelline apologized for causing so much pain, of course awash in guilt. After hanging up, she asked Oak if they would ever reveal…Maybe some day, he said.
Once the Walkers knew, it would get out. Out of a sense of gratitude, payola maybe, while Oak was with the doctor, Maybelline ran to a copy shop where she had all the relevant paperwork scanned and emailed to Monty Cross. Now they were finished.
********************
A few days later, the tree was illuminated by the brilliant crimson of the dawn and nobody was around. Life proceeded all around it, like before, this quiet stolid being, asking nothing, offering everything, now safe. It was, after all, mid-August and all the kids, including the Acorn Gang, were getting ready to return to school. After getting all the timber rights paperwork to the county and historical societies, Oak and Maybelline deconstructed “Camp Washington Millibelle”. Oak returned to Berkeley to heal and check in with his parents, his father’s medical test results so far, so good. Joni was in Arcata, not returning anybody’s calls. Maybelline was finally heading back to Santa Barbara where she found the routine, the quiet, the mundane welcome. Yes, there was a new set of tasks to be completed for Washington Millibelle. The tree would never really be “safe” in a human world, but legally it was, plus it had attracted the eyes of thousands and they were still watching.
They each returned to their lives for awhile, to heal, to think, and to plan. Planning. So important. Oak remembered Maybelline mentioning Costa Rica, so they did their planning there.
Chapter 28
A strange thing happened in the interim. When garbage would start to show up on the lot, around the tree, it would get cleaned up. The cats disappeared, first to get ‘fixed’ then off to homes. Someone hung prayer beads on Tamara’s amputated bough then someone else did it, then someone else, soon prayer flags showed up. One morning, there were strewn flowers encircling Mirabelle. Tamara kept them apprised of these things. When they asked who was doing it, they didn’t know. Didn’t see who…
Genuinely alarmed by the shenanigans that went on, the sheriff’s investigation continued. Neither the Darden nor Bryd families cut the branch or fired shots at Oak and Joni. It was just a couple of mixed up 18-year old boys with access to household guns, protesting “the government taking over our land”, the logic of which no one could wrap their heads around because it was so stupid and ignorant…our shining future. Their faces on the news matched their minds—twisted, deranged. They would both serve time.
This did however bring the two families back together again, Tank feeling badly for accusing the younger Byrd boys, and the Byrds feeling badly that the strain between them would cause him to even think this way. Hands were shaken at a bar a few nights later. Since times were hard for both of them, maybe they could help one another out.
********************
Michael and his father picked Maybelline up at the airport. Nobody knew if Joni was coming; her mother would not be able to make it. Ed and Joanne were tickled to meet Michael’s ‘other mother’. Both parents were intelligent, quiet, contemplative. It would be a tranquil visit, or so Maybelline thought until they reached their lovely little bungalows on the beach in Playa Espadilla and she was greeted by an agglutination of 30 or so people that included various musicians, actors, writers, a couple famous = their mysterious “donors and supporters”. (Maybelline hadn’t heard of any of them). Like her, all of them had a connection to one of Joni and Michael’s tree sits, this guy meeting them in Ohio, that woman meeting them in Georgia, etc. They told their friends, their friends told their friends…Maybelline was part of a like-minded family now.
It was new, marvelous, though she didn’t particularly like the humidity, the very assertive storms, mosquitoes; but the richness of the land, the diversity, the bodacious crazy flowers. Catching herself in a mirror at a local shop, a healthy, tanned, almost exotic beautiful older woman in a bright yellow floppy rain hat and blue and green flowered sundress looked back at her. She was transfixed. She looked back at the image and whispered, “my God, look at me Jay. Look at me Millicent.”
After hiking, swimming, they would gather on the beach in the evenings, of course with a steady supply of home-spun music, ganja, and booze. Maybelline noticed Oak (he would always be Oak to her) was ramping up his indulgence of any and all to escape the pain of Joni being MIA. Someone always made sure she had a glass of good wine in her hand and she even took a little puff off a joint (the first and last time in her life because it just put her to sleep, Joanne helping her to bed that evening). Discussions ensued about every and any thing including Joni. Where was she? He didn’t know. Did he love her? To his core. Had he told her lately? Only through messages she didn’t respond to. Obviously he fucked up. It began to resemble an intervention. Maybe she was tired of the whole thing though nobody bought into this idea, her passion equaling his. It was him. When Oak broke into tears they tabled the discussion and enveloped him in a tipsy, sloppy group hug.
Eventually another discussion arose that all of them vigorously participated in for which Maybelline was grateful: how she should permanently protect Washington Millibelle “park”. They were extremely amused that likely in response to all the bad p.r., the city and county had offered to “partner” with her, even take the property over. “You missed your chance to do the right thing a long time ago,” was Maybelline’s comment to the Planner III.
After a lot of back and forth, including the ganja, Oak announced the creation of “The Society for the Empowerment of Senior Tree Citizens” under which they would manage the park and no, it would not be a “non-profit”, voices rising regarding capitalism’s paradigm that if you want to do good for the world, you had to be consigned to poverty, form a board then beg for money from others, all of which works to undermine the original passion. Somebody posed the question, “what’s the matter with making money from goodness?”
This led to great brainstorming sessions by mostly wasted people but perhaps this is the best way to brainstorm…Of course it went to climate change, all of them having to face the fact that saving trees wasn’t enough anymore; now they had to focus on the whole damn planet. Somehow the human primate had to understand, especially in light of climate change, that living trees were far more valuable than dead ones. What if loggers like the Darden’s all the way to the giant timber companies got more money for standing trees instead of dead ones? A climate change scientist who called himself “Dr. Doom” made a declaration t
hat he could see a time when plants would not be able to grow on the planet anymore, the conditions changing so much, germination and photosynthesis would no longer be possible.
“You mean no more trees?” Maybelline asked.
“I mean no more plants, period, and definitely no more trees.”
The implications of this were sobering, literally and figuratively.
In response to “it’s too late” coming from most of them, Ed and Joanne implored giving up wasn’t an option; it was time to begin educating people on a larger scale. In light of Joni’s absence, Michael’s weariness, maybe it was time to pass the wand, begin mentoring others, start a whole new ‘branch’ of tree sitters. For saving forests, they could hold community tree celebrations the focus of which would be planting more of them, restore damaged habitats. How about big tree contests, the winners featured in ‘environmentally friendly’ calendars? The list got longer, some of the ideas a tad more ambitious (like reviving the entire Pagan religion), limited only by their imaginations which at that moment were not very limited.
Epilogue
By the following spring, many important things for Washington Millibelle Citizen’s Park were worked out, like insurance and liability because this runs the world. Assertive signs warning all visitors they assume the risk of coming into the park, will not hold the Society for the Empowerment of Citizen Trees (now not just the old-growth) liable if they stub their toe, etc., were up. In cooperation with a local rescue group, the cats were caught, fixed, and adopted out to good homes. Garbage wasn’t really an issue anymore now that the land looked loved, cared for, to be looked after by none other than Tank Darden with some help from the Byrds. They formed a property management company and did very well, Washington Millibelle Citizen’s Park their first property. Maybelline compensated them well. Tank couldn’t stop eyeing the amputated limb on the ground. He worked up some courage to ask her about it, said it was “good wood going to waste”. Maybelline asked him if he could fashion a couple benches to be placed under Washington Millabelle. While not exactly what he had in mind, he agreed and with the help of the Byrd’s, they created two beautiful benches out of that one massive bough.
With the legal hullabaloo finalized, place cleaned up, a couple trash cans out (locked at night), signs up, benches in place, it was time for the last step—the dedication, official opening ceremony for Washington Millibelle Citizen’s Park.
Hundreds attended, a few of them observing the ceremonies from the grand tree that seemed to welcome them with ‘open limbs’. Just a year or so before, these hundreds drove, walked past the tree, no one noticing, really caring, except for a 12 year old girl named Tamara Walker. Oak’s parents didn’t attend, giving Maybelline permission to keep the ruse going and anyway, Michael was like a son to her by now. (It would all come out a year later after Monty Cross claimed his Pulitzer which led to a book about the whole affair. Mostly it delighted people though Tank and the sheriff were a little piqued both saying they knew something was up (or down) with “Maybelline’s” fall from the tree). There was live music, courtesy of their musician supporters. The Acorn Gang performed a rap, Tamara taking the lead. The sheriff and a few deputies came. Jim Bock spoke, taking breaks in between to compose himself. Tank even spoke, also getting choked up. A representative from the local Pomo tribe as well as one from the African-American community spoke reminding them that even as of 1975, discrimination still existed, still does, and probably always will. It’s just something human beings are inclined to do so why not just learn to live with one another? It isn’t really all that complicated. Soon everyone was dropping a tear or two or three. There would be more…
When the winds came up later in the afternoon, Maybelline spoke, the last person. She thanked them and described herself, all of them, as “unexpected saviors”, that Oak and Joni made her a better person, revealed to her, her own courage. “We are all unexpected saviors, for ourselves, the community, the world at large…Any one of us can give a damn about something and act on it,” she said. When she finished, she announced she was ‘going up’. After joking about “public humiliation”, she looked at Oak who was wearing a backpack. He and Jim Bock gently helped her begin the climb up, Oak staying with her. At about 30 feet up, Maybelline and Oak looked out to see Joni striding towards the tree. No one had heard much from her, including Oak. Of course they asked her to come to the dedication, speak, climb the tree with them, but there was no response. Displaying her typical agility, she leapt up onto the boughs and soon was next to Maybelline and Oak. Her curly hair was longer. She looked beautiful, wild, more relaxed than Maybelline had ever seen her, maybe even at peace. Oak silhouette earrings dangled from her ears. In this moment there were no words, their eyes moist with tears. Joni and Oak got Maybelline higher in Washington Millibelle than she had ever been, about 65 feet up. Oak unzipped the backpack and removed an urn. He handed it to Joni who unscrewed the top then Joni carefully handed it to Maybelline. Her back supported by one of the iron-strong branches, Oak and Joni flanking her, Maybelline raised the urn as high as she could, and shook. They watched as the ashes of Millicent Bock lifted up, through, and over the old tree to become part of the earth again, or at least land on the roofs of the nearby apartment buildings, including Tamara’s. The vigorous clapping and cheering was followed by reverent silence as Oak and Joni slowly escorted Maybelline back down, Tamara meeting them to help Maybelline make the final steps back to the ground. Maybelline would never climb the tree again.
With the creation of this little park was the affirmation of everything that is good, just, and beloved.
Maybelline returned to Santa Barbara completely “treed”, i.e. there would be no going back to the old daze’. Before she knew it, she was defending the old-growth cottonwoods that grew outside her window from county ‘maintenance’ crews.
After more time, a lot of discussion, Michael and Joni reunited, relieving Michael of despair—he couldn’t continue to do their work without her. It was like an extrication, an amputation, being without her. They were connected by their roots. Tired of worrying about Michael, the future of their efforts, everyone was very happy that brilliant and passionate Joni was back.
They held a private and simple marriage ceremony at their first sit, a grove of old-growth redwoods north of Arcata. The redwood grove was now part of the state park system, “hopefully protected forever” in light of the fact that even California State Parks were logging—for so-called “fire safety”.
Inspired, weddings and all sorts of community events became a major use of Washington-Millibelle Citizen’s Park, Maybelline charging a little fee for upkeep. A group of volunteers sprung up to help Tank care for the park, even planting a few more native plants that included a beautiful display of native wildflowers. They implemented all of the projects, the ecological restoration projects with the schools being a big hit. Joni and Michael took on the mantle of mentoring a new generation of sitters, hoping they wouldn’t be needed one day.
There was no comparison to the first time Maybelline saw the tree on its threadbare two acres and what it evolved into, a miracle realized, born in the soul of a dying woman.
********************
So what should have happened to begin with, did, and why wouldn’t I end the book this way? Perhaps I should call this novel ‘eco-fantasy’ because in the county where I live in Northern California, despite having its own “Landmark Oak” ordinance, hundreds of old-growth trees have been chopped down and even as I wrote this novel, my county was in the process of allowing a large corporation to chop down a landmark oak woodland to shove in yet another box store nobody wants. My county has the regulatory tools and legal right to stop this, the neighborhood doesn’t want the “Squirrel-Mart” but no…Like in the story, the ordinance is just something to “get around”, the landowner “might sue” (making a mockery then of the entire so-called public process). Can you blame me if I opted for a happy ending because in the real world, in one of the
most so-called progressive states in the union, it’s not, for thousands of old-growth trees?
We are their voices so feel free to scream.
END
Woodman, Spare That Tree
Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I’ll protect it now.
‘Twas my forefather’s hand
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand’
Thy axe shall harm it not!
That old familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and sea—
And would’st thou hack it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
O spare that aged oak,
Now towering to the skies!
When but an idle boy
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy,
Here, too, my sisters played.
My mother kissed me here;
My father pressed my hand—
Forgive the foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand.
My heartstrings round thee cling,
Close as thy bark, old friend;
Here shall the wild bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Old tree! The storm still brave!
And, woodman, leave the spot,
Treed Page 18
