The Crazy Things Girls Do for Love

by Dyan Sheldon

  “It means that you’re not looking at the bigger picture.” Cody himself is looking at Clemens again. “There’s more at stake here than a couple of trees.”

  “Fifteen,” says Sicilee. Fifteen trees that were old when her great-great-grandfather, just a child, was getting on the ship to America.

  “Fifteen trees that can never be replaced,” adds Waneeda.

  “What bigger picture?” says Clemens. Cody’s face gazes up at him like a reflection in a pool, but it isn’t the reflection of anyone Clemens recognizes. It’s certainly not a reflection of himself. “These trees are symbolic of the thousands of trees being cut down every day all over the world. How much bigger can the picture get?”

  “Think of the club, man,” Cody urges. “Think of Earth Day. All the work we’ve done … all the goodwill and support we’ve built up … all the publicity. Everybody loves us.”

  Some people are starting to love him a little less.

  “Loves us?” sneers Maya. “What happened to loving the planet? When did we ditch that?”

  “Earth Day?” repeats Sicilee. “The bigger picture is Earth Day? I thought the bigger picture was the Earth.”

  Waneeda doesn’t tap Cody’s shoulder this time. She thumps it. “What are you talking about, all the work we’ve done? You haven’t done any work. All you ever do is talk. Just like you’re talking now.”

  It’s as if Waneeda has knocked down the first domino in the wall that made Cody seem perfect.

  “Goodwill? Support?” Sicilee’s laugh is stretched and high. “It’s me and Maya and the others who’ve gotten all the support. All the goodwill. I didn’t see you trudging all over town getting donations.”

  “And I got just as much publicity as you,” says Maya. “I’m the one who had her picture on the front page of The Clifton Springs Observer.” Supporters Rally Around Plastic Girl. “I’m the one who was ridiculed and almost arrested.”

  But it’s as if all their words are no more than the rustle of leaves.

  “Can’t you see that it’s going to mess up everything if you don’t get down from there?” Cody pleads. “You’re making us all look like a bunch of lunatic Earth Libbers, Clem. You’re making us look bad.”

  Clemens gives a strangled laugh. “No, you’re making us look bad.”

  Cody ignores him. “We’re going to lose everything here.” He has never sounded so passionate nor so sincere. “Dr Firestone’ll shut us down faster than you can say, ‘ecological disaster’. Don’t you care about the club?”

  “Don’t you?” asks Maya. “OK, maybe you don’t want to get up there with Clemens, but you could at least give him some moral support.”

  “Like what?” Cody’s laid-back charm has started to fray. “Hold hands around the tree with you guys, singing ‘We Shall Overcome’?”

  “Don’t worry, you won’t be holding hands with me.” Although Waneeda has been described as a large and lumpen girl whose movements bring to mind the bear more than the chimpanzee, she suddenly grabs the lowest branch and swings herself into the tree.

  “Or me!” Maya scrabbles after her.

  “You guys aren’t leaving me down here.” Sicilee, the girl guaranteed to be voted most sophisticated of her graduating class, hauls herself up after the others in her one hundred per cent organic linen designer suit. The floral platform shoes fall to the ground, narrowly missing the head of Cody Lightfoot, the only one left standing under the tree.

  “That’s it!” Dr Firestone comes running towards them, waving his cell phone. “Now you’ve really gone too far. I’m calling the police.”

  “That’s fine by me,” says Sicilee.

  “Me, too,” says Maya.

  Each of them already holds her own phone in her hand.

  “For God’s sake,” groans Clemens, “can’t you two go a few minutes without calling someone? What are you going to say? That you’re in a tree?”

  Sicilee ignores him. “I’m calling my mother.” Her voice is loud and clear, and her smile is lodged on Dr Firestone like a laser beam. “She knows a lot of people in the media.”

  “And who are you calling?” Dr Firestone demands of Maya. “Don’t tell me that your mother knows a lot of people in the media, too.”

  “No, not one,” says Maya. “But her brother’s a lawyer.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  The spell’s been broken

  It is a bright and unseasonably hot afternoon. The sun shines down from a cloudless sky, making the noisy crowds below seem to shimmer. The blue and green balloons and flags that decorate Clifton Springs High School on this special day sway in a well-mannered breeze, and the sounds of people celebrating the existence of their planet fill the air.

  Sicilee, Kristin, Loretta and Ash sit together at one of the tables set up in the courtyard, talking and laughing excitedly – and often at the same time. In honour of the occasion, each of them is wearing one of Clemens’ handmade T-shirts, and they all look as if they’re enjoying themselves. They are best friends again.

  Cody Lightfoot was wrong. His prediction that the tree protest would destroy the Environmental Club, cause Earth Day to be cancelled and heap ridicule, embarrassment and derision on Clemens and anyone foolish enough to join him turned out to be so far from the truth it was in another country. Ms Kimodo, on the other hand, was right. Ms Kimodo, also summoned by the principal, arrived only minutes after Sicilee, Maya and Waneeda joined Clemens in the tree. Ms Kimodo, unlike Cody, immediately gave the tree-sitters her support. “I’m sorry, Dr Firestone,” said Ms Kimodo, “but not only do I feel that these students have both legal and moral right on their side, I think you’ll find that the community as a whole will stand behind them too. I know I certainly do.” Which is what happened. Thanks, in large part, to Mrs Kewe’s many friends in the media and Maya’s Uncle Fabio, the protest forced the tree-cutting to be abandoned, and made celebrities of Maya, Clemens, Sicilee and Waneeda.

  The press arrived before the police – setting up their cameras and recorders, pulling out notebooks, sticking microphones in the faces of anyone who didn’t move out of the way. Dr Firestone, as unprepared for them as he would have been for the ghost army of Genghis Khan, was surprised to find himself cast as the villain. He was no longer, apparently, anyone’s pal. He was a man who broke promises. A man who tried to have students who had Law and Right on their side arrested. A man who showed no respect for either history or the environment. An Unlikely Group of Eco Warriors Puts Principles Ahead of the Principal read one headline. Brought Together by Love not Dogma read another. Clemens, Waneeda, Sicilee and Maya were treated as heroes – photographed, interviewed and even singled out for special praise by the governor of the state for their courage and character. Sicilee herself was featured on the six o’clock news, leaning comfortably against an ancient trunk and looking (as the reporter pointed out) not like a fanatical environmentalist but a model on a magazine shoot. “Is this the face of anarchy?” asked the anchor as he introduced the story. “Or is this the face of the next generation, demanding its right to a future?” All of which has made Sicilee even more popular than she was before. Celebrities are forgiven a lot.

  At the moment, Sicilee is sipping an organic tea, Kristin is finishing her veggie burger, Loretta is rearranging her environmentally friendly shopping and Ash is nibbling a vegan cookie that, against all predictions, doesn’t taste like sand.

  Earlier, they watched the day’s first screening of a documentary on climate change, presented by Clemens (who everyone agreed was a lot nicer and far less creepy than they’d thought).

  “That movie really makes you think, doesn’t it?” says Ash. “I never knew all that stuff about the glaciers and the polar bears and everything.”

  Sicilee makes a face over her cup, though there is nothing wrong with her tea. “At least the polar bears weren’t hanging by one foot from a meat hook being clubbed.” Sicilee was on the committee that chose the films to be shown today and sat with her eyes closed or filled with te
ars through the one on meat production.

  “Stop!” orders Kristin. “I don’t want to hear any more about that. It’s really gross.”

  Finished with her cookie and her movie review, Ash sniffs at the plant she bought her mother for her birthday. “It reminds me of something.” She frowns, wrinkling her nose. A balloon that looks like the Earth seen from space waves above her head. “But I can’t think what.”

  Kristin, too, is looking thoughtful. “You know, this burger isn’t so bad.” She sounds surprised. “I know it’s supposed to be really good because no animals were tortured and it saved the planet a ton of water and cow farts and everything, but it actually tastes OK. I mean, with the mayo and ketchup and pickles and everything, you wouldn’t really know it wasn’t real if no one told you.”

  “Oh, um duh…” Sicilee rolls her eyes, but she is laughing. “Sweet Mary, what have I been trying to tell you guys?”

  “OK, OK.” Loretta, too, is laughing. “I’m not going to, like, start eating tofu, but some of this Green stuff’s not so bad. It’s not all bean sprouts and Jesus sandals.” She pats the shopping bag (hemp, not plastic) on her lap. “I got some pretty awesome things today. That velvet top with the crushed flowers? It’s, like, perfect for Rupert’s party next week.”

  “Merciful Mother!” shrieks Sicilee. “I haven’t even started thinking about what I’m wearing to that!”

  “Well, you’d better.” Kristin smirks. “You want to look nice for Abe, don’t you?”

  “Oh, please… It’s not a big deal,” says Sicilee, but she raises her cup to her mouth and swings her hair so the others can’t see the expression on her face. “It’s just a friendly date.”

  Abe called her the night after the sit-in. Apparently watching her being led away by the police had made him see her differently. He said she was a lot feistier than he’d given her credit for and asked her out.

  “Oh, my, my…” mutters Loretta. “What’s that old saying? Two’s company and twenty’s a crowd?”

  Cody Lightfoot and a small herd of smiling girls from the year below are ambling across the courtyard together.

  Sicilee watches them pass like someone watching a movie she’s seen before but doesn’t really remember. To think she tried so hard to impress Cody Lightfoot! She must’ve been out of her mind. It’s as if she’d been under some kind of spell.

  “Hey, you know what this smells like?” Ash’s nose is still in the plant. “It smells like that plug-in air freshener my mom uses.” She gives another happy sniff. “I think she’s really going to like this.”

  Chapter Forty-five

  Waneeda can’t remember that she ever had the teensiest crush on Cody Lightfoot

  Waneeda and Joy Marie sit together in the shade of the T-shirt stall, which they are running while Clemens oversees the showing of environmental documentaries in the auditorium.

  Waneeda makes a drain-like sound as she sucks up the last of her iced tea through the straw. “Look at him, grinning and shaking hands,” says Waneeda. “You’d think this whole thing was his idea the way he’s strutting around.”

  The “him” Waneeda’s referring to is none other than Dr Firestone, and it is fair to say that, as he moves through the crowd in his summer suit and an eye-catching tie that features a picture of a gnarled oak very like the trees he was so eager to chop down, Dr Firestone is definitely enjoying the success of the day.

  “At least he didn’t make us cancel the fair,” says Joy Marie.

  Joy Marie is being far too generous. Dr Firestone had no choice but to let the Earth Day celebrations go on as planned. He’d already been presented in the press as less than honest, out-of-touch and unreasonable. After all the publicity and the governor muscling in like that, to cancel the fair would have been to add “vindictive” to the list of his faults.

  “And now there’s no way he can shut us down. Especially not after today.” Joy Marie leans forward on her elbows. “I mean, can you believe how many people have shown up? I figured that all our parents would come and people like that, but it looks like most of the town’s here.”

  “That’s thanks to Clemens, too,” says Waneeda. If Clemens hadn’t climbed into that tree – and if he hadn’t given such an eloquent interview about trees and their memories to the local paper (reprinted in every major newspaper on the Eastern Seaboard, including The New York Times) – there is little doubt that there would be far fewer people at the Earth Day celebration and that most of them would be relatives of club members, friends of relatives of club members and Mr Huddlesfield’s bowling team.

  “I think that’s a little unfair…” Joy Marie gives her a sideways glance. “Cody had something to do with it, too, Waneeda. He was the one who got it all started, you know.”

  Waneeda harrumphs. “You mean that he got everybody else to get it started.”

  “I think he did a little more than that,” argues Joy Marie. “He won over Dr Firestone … and he got the electric company to sponsor Earth Day and—”

  “Anything Cody did, he did because it made him look good,” cuts in Waneeda. “Cody Lightfoot’s like fireworks. All show and no substance.”

  Joy Marie doesn’t quite manage to stifle a spasm of laughter.

  Waneeda glares. “What’s so funny?”

  “You are. You used to be a member of the Cody Lightfoot fan club. Remember?”

  “No,” says Waneeda. “No, I don’t. I remember saying that I thought he was attractive, but you’d have to be blind and in Toledo not to notice that.”

  “Really?” Joy Marie sips at her own iced tea. “I could’ve sworn you joined the club because of Cody.”

  “I joined because you were pressuring me. That’s why I joined.” Waneeda straightens the stack of T-shirts in front of her. “And anyway, as soon as I got to know Clemens…” She shrugs. “Well, you know…”

  “Well, you’ll be happy to hear that Cody’s not shedding any tears because you’ve found somebody else,” says Joy Marie.

  Waneeda turns in the direction Joy Marie is looking. Cody Lightfoot is standing at the solar heating stall, surrounded by a giggle of girls.

  For the life of her, Waneeda can’t remember what she ever saw in him.

  Chapter Forty-six

  All systems normal

  Maya’s friends – all of whom have been having a great time at the Earth Day celebration – have stopped by to see her. With Alice’s help, Maya’s been running the children’s workshop. Making art out of junk. To inspire them, she set up a stall with the whirligigs and mobiles she made out of things she rescued from the recycling centre. The result is a cross between an invention by the cartoonist Rube Goldberg, who specialized in drawing complicated machines to perform simple tasks, and Aladdin’s cave.

  “Man, this is so cool…” Brion whistles. “You’re selling these things, right? My dad would love one for the backyard.”

  “I always knew you were talented, Maya,” says Mallory, “but I never knew you were this talented.”

  Maya smiles shyly. “It’s more inspiration than talent. Once I started, I just couldn’t seem to stop.”

  “But when did you make all this stuff?” asks Shayla. “It must have taken hours and hours.”

  Maya doesn’t say that she made it in those dark days after her Be Kind to Our Planet Night, when she kept pretty much to herself for a while. Maya, like Sicilee, is happy to have her friends back. Especially since it was they who came to her and not the other way around. A certain way of dressing might make you cool. A certain kind of music might make you cool. Reading certain books might make you cool as well. But nothing does the job as well as having a photo of you being led away by a policeman published in the daily paper with the headline: Clifton Springs Students Climb up for the First Amendment. There’s no making fun of her now. Celebrity is, indeed, forgiven a lot.

  “Well, you know…” Maya shrugs. “I kind of stopped watching so much TV, so I did this instead.” She gives them all a big smile. “You know what they
say: use less … reuse … recycle.”

  “Maybe we should all give up TV.” Finn laughs. “These are totally amazing.”

  “Man, this rules so bad.” Jason’s eyes move back and forth as though he’s committing the pieces to memory. “Has Zin seen it? He’s got to give you an A for this.”

  Maya looks at her watch. “He’s supposed to be here at three – to judge the Junk Art competition.”

  “Well, that’s not long.” Jason leans over her shoulder, also looking at her watch. “Why don’t I hang out with you? Give you a hand here?” There are a few small children still glueing bits and bobs on painted boxes and tying plastic bottles together with coloured string. “I want to see his face.”

  “That’s OK. I’m here,” says Alice.

  “Don’t you want to look around?” asks Jason. “You’ve been stuck here all day.”

  Alice blinks. It’s never before occurred to her to think of Jason as being especially thoughtful. “Well, I…” She glances at Maya. Maya has an oh-my-gosh expression on her face. “Yeah,” says Alice quickly. “That’s cool. I’ll see you guys later.”

  After the others leave, Jason says, “I guess that wasn’t very subtle, was it?”

  “What?” Maya starts walking through the junior artists, picking up discarded containers and scraps and putting them back in the bins. “Practically telling Alice to go away?”

  Jason grimaces. “I wanted to get you alone. You know, so I could apologize for the way I’ve been acting.”

  Maya retrieves a handful of old CDs from the grass. “You mean being rude and obnoxious and torturing me? You want to apologize for that?”

  “Yeah.” He kicks a cork towards her foot. “You know, because… I know it’s going to sound crazy, but I think I was jealous.”

  “You were jealous? What of? Me eating lentils? Or me riding my bike to school?”

  “Lightfoot.” Jason is scouring the grass for more corks and he is mumbling. “I thought, you know… I thought you had the hots for him.”