Ariel began gathering up the scattered cards from their game of crazy eights. “We need to do something else. Just sitting in this tree isn’t going to be enough. Not even close.”
“We could tie ourselves to the trees,” Robin said. “When the chain saws come.”
“Danny will be up for that,” Julian volunteered.
“Danny will be up for what?” Danny said. He’d crossed to the other side of the tree house to inspect the damage.
“For the giant chain saws to hack you to pieces to save Big Tree,” Robin said.
“Sure.” Danny nodded cheerfully. “I’ll be a martyr for the cause! ‘He was such a good boy. So noble! So brave! So handsome!’”
“Such a good–looking corpse!” Ariel said.
“Once they put him back together,” Robin added.
Julian sat picking at a little redwood cone. “What we need is more publicity.”
“Too bad we don’t know any journalists,” Danny said pointedly, and then when Julian didn’t respond he said, “Too bad none of our grandmothers works for a major newspaper.”
Robin stared at Julian. “Your grandmother works for the Chronicle. We can call her!”
“I don’t know,” Julian said. “You can’t just go and write stories about your grandson and his friends and call it news.”
“This is news,” Robin said. “‘Small family ranch bought by investment firm. Rare old–growth destroyed.’ It’s gotten plenty of coverage up here. Come on, you’ve got to at least try.”
Julian could picture Popo frowning on the other end of the line, in a hurry, on a deadline. She would worry he would fall out of the tree house or end up in trouble. And what would Sibley do if the Chronicle really did publish a story about them? Somehow, all the time he’d spent thinking about Operation Redwood, it hadn’t occurred to him that Sibley might somehow get involved. And what about Bob? But he didn’t have time to puzzle everything out. Robin’s eyes were locked on his face.
“OK, I’ll call her,” he said, hesitantly. “The worst she can say is no. Or,” he added, “‘You’re coming home right now.’”
“Ariel and Danny, you stay here in case the men come back. Julian and I are going back to the house to call his grandmother. Molly, are you staying or coming?”
“Staying,” Molly said firmly.
Robin and Julian sprinted back toward the house. Julian noted with satisfaction that he kept right behind Robin, even on the switchbacks. When they finally burst into the living room, they found Nancy reading a book to Jo–Jo.
“Mom!” Robin stood inside the glass door, trying to catch her breath. “The men are coming to Big Tree Grove and they’re marking all the trees to cut them down and we told them we’re not leaving the tree house and Ariel and Molly and Danny are there guarding it and we have to call Julian’s grandmother and tell her.”
She had obviously decided that full confession was the best strategy, Julian noted with a certain feeling of relief.
“Slow down,” Nancy said. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s an old tree house in Big Tree,” Robin said, still panting. “And that’s where we had the campout. That’s why I didn’t want to bring Molly, because I was afraid she was too little. But everything was going great and then we saw the men.”
“What men?” Nancy knit her eyebrows together. Jo–Jo stuck his thumb in his mouth and started turning the pages of his book.
“The men who are going to cut down the trees! They’re marking all the trees they’re going to log, even the ones for our tree house. We told them to stop, but they weren’t listening to us at all. We had to do something! So we told them we’re not coming down from the tree house until they agree not to cut down a single tree in Big Tree Grove.”
“I see.” Julian couldn’t read Nancy’s expression. She sighed and pushed her hair behind her ears. “And what’s this about Julian’s grandmother?”
Robin turned to Julian.
“Well,” he said, “we thought maybe my grandmother could get the San Francisco Chronicle to write a story about Big Tree Grove. And that might help. Since you guys lost the THP appeal and everything.” He was glad he remembered about the appeal.
“Please, Mom!” Robin got down on her knees and clasped her hands together. “We have to do this. Don’t say we can’t. Please?”
“I’m not saying that yet.” Nancy’s face was unreadable, like she was doing arithmetic in her head. “I need to talk this over with your father. I’ll be right back.” She swung Jo–Jo up on her hip and walked toward the open sliding doors. Jo–Jo started wailing, “I don’t wanna go out! I want the choo–choo book!”
“Wait just a minute, honey,” Nancy said to Jo–Jo. She stopped at the door. “They didn’t threaten you or anything?”
“Threaten us? No! They gave us a thumbs–up,” Robin said in disgust. “And tell Dad the guy’s name is Pete.”
“Pete?” Bob came in through the front door, carrying the day’s mail. “Where did you see Pete?”
Robin repeated the whole story to her father.
“Absolutely not!” he said. “I am not having you turn into one of those crazy tree–sitters. It’s not safe, for one thing. And it’s trespassing. Ed Greeley was always a good neighbor to me.”
“But Dad, it’s not Ed Greeley anymore. That’s the whole problem. Do you think IPX is a good neighbor? And it’s not dangerous. John and Dave were just up there. And the Greeley boys played in the tree house for years. I bet you even played in it!”
Bob pressed his lips together and turned his face aside, reaching up to adjust his wide–brimmed hat.
Robin smiled slightly. “It’s super sturdy—not a single loose board! Very well–constructed. Very nice craftsmanship!”
“You’re breaking the law,” Bob said, but his voice had lost some of its edge. “I don’t want the sheriff out here again.” He looked pointedly at Julian. Julian lowered his eyes and shifted nervously.
“Daddy, we’re not!” Robin said. “We’re just up in our tree house! Ed Greeley let the boys play there. And if the laws don’t protect Big Tree, then they’re not good laws anyway.”
“What good is it going to do for you kids to sit up in a tree house? I don’t see how that’s going to accomplish anything.”
“It might. Nothing else is working. It’s worth a try. Especially if the Chronicle writes a story about us.”
“I want a story!” Jo–Jo called out. Nancy whispered in his ear and shifted him to her other hip.
Bob shook his head. “The whole thing’s going to turn into a circus. I can see it already.”
Julian’s mind was reeling from all the back and forth, but Robin answered right away. “No, it won’t. There’s already been stories about it up here. Everybody knows about it. But a story in the Chronicle would be different. Then all those San Francisco people would read it and maybe IPX cares more about them. If they even wrote a story, which they probably won’t anyway.”
Bob’s face softened ever so slightly as he watched Robin. He crossed his arms. “How long were you planning on staying up there?”
It was a chink in his armor and Julian saw Robin take heart. “Not that long. It’s a tree house. We can’t stay up there forever! Ariel and Julian and Danny have to leave Sunday anyway. Remember, Daddy, you and Mom said it was really, really important to save Big Tree! You said we should try everything we could!”
Bob looked at Nancy. “What do you think?”
Robin clasped her hands again and stared silently at her mother.
“Well, I don’t see how it could do any harm, really,” Nancy said. “And they are working for something they believe in. ‘Speak truth to power’—that’s what we’ve taught them.”
Bob looked back and forth between his wife and his daughter. “If anything happens, if we say it’s time to come down, you all come down.”
“I promise,” Robin said.
“I mean right away.”
“OK, Daddy.”
> “You too, Julian.”
“Yes, sir.” Julian had never said “sir” in his life, but somehow it seemed called for.
“Where’s Molly?” he asked.
“In the tree house,” Robin said. “With Danny and Ariel.”
“Molly stays here. And I don’t want you getting out of your chores. I want to get more of that trail done.”
“Every morning two of us will come and two can stay in the tree house. We’ll come first thing when you ring the bell. We’ll work extra hard.”
Bob sighed. “I don’t know how I ended up with you. Always getting into scrapes and causing trouble. John and Dave were never like this.”
Robin smiled sweetly. “Nature or nurture. Either way, it’s not my fault.”
Bob drank a glass of water and walked back toward the door. “In one hour, I want two kids out at the trail ready to work. No slackers. I expect instant obedience, unstinting labor, hours of uncomplaining toil.”
“On your orders, Dad.”
Bob smiled wryly and walked out of the house, shaking his head. Nancy smiled at her daughter. “Looks like your prayers have been answered.” Her eyes were still worried. “I hope this all turns out OK.”
“It will,” Robin said confidently. She came just to her mother’s chin and Julian looked at her and wondered how she could be so certain everything would turn out right, when it seemed to him entirely possible that everything would turn out completely wrong.
he following afternoon, Ariel and Robin were on watch, perched on the roof with their binoculars. Danny sat on the deck, chiseling his initials into the railing with his pocketknife, while Julian put the last layer of varnish on his little box. They were discussing the best way to construct a zip line to the ground when they heard Robin’s whistle. Looking into the forest, they saw Molly standing on the fallen log, dwarfed by a tall man with dark, wild hair. She pointed to the tree house, then turned and ran toward home.
“Hello, tree–sitters!” the man called up when he’d reached the base of the trees. “I’m Bruce, from the Chronicle.”
Robin grinned. They hadn’t been certain he would come. “Do you want to come up?” she asked.
“You’d better not be one of Carter’s spies,” Danny shouted.
Bruce burst into laughter. “Trust me! I’m a bona fide journalist. Eleanor Li sent me.”
“Those are the magic words.” Danny lowered the pulley seat down.
Bruce squeezed into the chair and, without waiting for instruction, started pulling on the rope. Soon, he was lurching toward the tree house, his long hairy legs dangling below him. He extricated himself with some difficulty from the chair, then stood looking about him with a bemused expression.
The tree house was now fortified for their stay. The sleeping bags were neatly rolled up and baskets of walnuts and apples and a large water jug were set out on top of the storage bins. Inside the bins were even more supplies: peanut butter, several loaves of bread, a pound of cheese, boxes of cereal and crackers, a container of powdered milk, and two jars of jam.
Ariel offered Bruce two chocolate–chip cookies, then he sat down on one of the storage bins and began firing off questions. He wanted to know their names, their ages, what they studied in school, the history of Big Tree Grove and the Greeley family, how they’d found the tree house, how long they’d been there, what they ate, and whether they were scared to sleep up in the tree at night. Occasionally, he would grab another cookie and jot down a note on his yellow legal pad.
After they had talked for nearly an hour, he turned and said, “So, Julian Carter–Li, how does a nice guy like you end up butting heads with your own uncle? Are you two still on speaking terms?”
“Well,” Julian stammered, “we haven’t really spoken for a while.”
“I’ll bet!” Bruce said, laughing. “So here he is, the new CEO of this hot–shot investment firm and you start a protest.”
Julian blushed. “I wasn’t really thinking so much about my uncle. I was just thinking about Big Tree and how it’s been here for so long—practically forever—and that it would be a terrible thing to cut down all these trees.”
Bruce jotted some notes down in his legal pad. “Where did you guys all meet, anyway? We’re pretty far from San Francisco.”
Julian glanced nervously at Robin.
“What?” Bruce’s dark eyes darted quickly between the two of them. “Did I say something wrong? What’s the big secret?”
“We’re old friends,” Julian said.
“What—how old? Since you were six or something?”
“We were pen pals,” Robin said with a false smile. “Part of the home–schooling curriculum.”
Bruce gave them both a hard stare, then shook his head. “I can tell when I’m being stonewalled,” he said. “But I’m glad your grandmother called. Eleanor Li’s the best journalist I know. And you guys have added a nice human–interest angle. Nobody cares about all these THPs and departments–of–this and boards–of–that.” He flipped through the pages of his legal pad. “OK, just one last question: What’s your message to the world?”
“This THP is terrible,” Robin said. “The Greeley property was harvested sustainably for years and it still should be. They should preserve Big Tree Grove and any other old–growth. Forever.”
Bruce raised his eyebrows and jotted down a few notes.
“There’s a bunch of bigwigs getting rich off of trashing this place,” Danny said. “They should go to jail instead!”
“It should be against the law,” Julian said.
Ariel, who had said only a few words during the interview, suddenly broke in. “My mother used to play in Big Tree when she was a little girl. And Robin and I played here when we were little. The clear–cuts, they’re the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen. The ground all ripped up and slash all over the place. Look around here. There’s nothing half as beautiful as this in San Francisco or Los Angeles or Phoenix. If they keep cutting down the trees, nobody will even remember what a forest is supposed to look like.”
Julian looked at her in surprise. It was like the running. She dawdled around and then suddenly she was moving like lightning.
Bruce finished scribbling, then put away his notepad. “If I don’t get lazy, the story should run on Wednesday.” He took several photos from up in the tree house and then lowered himself, hooting and laughing, to the ground. Holding up his camera, he told them to look serious, then angry, then cracked jokes to make them smile. Robin threw him an apple for the road, and he caught it with a flourish and headed down the path.
The next afternoon was hot and muggy, and by evening, the heat still hadn’t broken. It made everyone listless and took away their appetites. The girls lounged in the cabin, reading. Danny started chiseling his initials deeper into the side railing. Julian watched him, wondering how he could have been so stupid as to lose his father’s knife and thinking he would never again have anything half so cool and perfect.
Finally, Ariel roused herself to cut up some cheese and tomatoes and they all ate sandwiches and granola bars under the colorless sky.
“Wouldn’t you love to climb to the top of these trees?” Robin said when dinner was done. She was lying on the storage bins, staring up at the treetops.
“We could do it,” Ariel said. “I bet John and Dave could teach us.”
“John has a friend who climbs redwoods,” Robin said. “It’s his life. John said he saw all sorts of cool things up there. There’s huckleberry bushes—growing right out of the tree trunks. There’s rhododendrons blooming. There’s little miniature bonsais growing in the crooks of the trees. They’re growing in dirt two hundred feet up. These little trees are more than a hundred years old and they’re growing out of the branch of a thousand–year-old redwood.”
“Trees in the trees?” Ariel said.
“That’s what he said.” Robin crossed her ankles and wiggled her bare toes. “These trees are so old. They’re older than the dinosaurs. When all the continents i
n the world were still smushed together, there were redwood trees, or something like them. The asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs—the redwoods were fine. John said they covered half of the world. Then they shrank down to just California. And then the loggers came along and cut them all down.”
“The end,” Danny said. “That was a cheery little story.”
“Well, Big Tree’s still here,” Ariel said. “That’s kind of amazing, when you think about it.”
Robin got to her feet and poured lemonade from a canteen into her tin cup. “I can’t wait until the story comes out.”
They rinsed the dishes in the creek and the girls ran off to the outhouse. When they returned, it was nearly dark. Julian helped them out of the pulley seat and cleated the rope. Now that he was used to the tree house, it felt like the safest place on earth, safer than the city. Any decent burglar could break a window, he figured, but it would be almost impossible to break into the tree house in the dark.
It was still too hot to get inside their sleeping bags. Julian was just looking for his flashlight when the sky flickered, casting a momentary gray light over the tree–house deck.
“Lightning!” Ariel cried.
The sky flashed again. This time, they heard a low, angry rumble in the distance. A feeling of dread stirred inside Julian. He’d never seen lightning in San Francisco.
“I love storms!” Robin shouted, looking up at the sky.
Julian could hear the wind coming before he felt it—warm and damp and smelling of salt and sap. The branches above them bowed and swayed.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Danny said, “but is it possible that a tree house is not exactly the safest place to be in the middle of a lightning storm?”
As if in answer, a brilliant fork of lightning ripped across the sky. Julian stood transfixed. The trees shifted uneasily, and soon the sound of the wind sweeping over the forest was like the roar of the ocean. A few heavy raindrops blew onto Julian’s face. A tin cup went rattling off the storage bins and across the floor.
“We better get our stuff inside!” Robin called. “Before it’s too dark to see.” Her alarm stirred them to action. Julian and Danny grabbed their backpacks and pillows and sleeping bags and threw them into the cabin while the girls stuffed everything else on the deck—dishes and canteens, notebooks, two candles, a box of crackers—into the storage bins and slammed the lids shut. When they were done, the deck looked strangely bare and abandoned in the dim light.
Operation Redwood Page 18
