And then, from far below, in a commanding tone that broke through the sound of his own screaming, Julian heard a raspy voice cry out, “Young man, let go of the boy immediately. This has gone far enough.”
van obeyed, dropping Julian’s wrist instantly. Danny slithered off Ivan’s back to the ground. Julian clung to the tree-house railing, breathing hard, filled with a hot energy. The voice had been low and aristocratic, like some grande dame from an old black-and-white movie. Julian craned his neck to see who had spoken, but his view was blocked by Ivan’s enormous chest.
Sibley cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but trust me, this is not the time or the place—”
“It’s a good thing I came when I did and not some camera crew. Can you imagine how that scene would have played on the evening news?”
“What are you doing here?”
“The board is not pleased, Sibley. Witherspoon is apoplectic. The controversy is driving away clients.”
“What controversy?” Sibley’s face was an angry red. “A bunch of tree huggers? It’ll all die down in a matter of days.”
“Sibley, you’ve lost your perspective,” the voice continued, with an air of hypnotic authority. “IPX against four children in a tree house? You must realize this has become a public-relations fiasco. And the protests are only going to get bigger.”
“Then they’ll be quashed,” Sibley said in an ugly tone.
Ivan shifted slightly, and Julian could make out below him a formidable–looking woman with gleaming white hair, dressed in a red jacket and skirt. She was looking up at Sibley with unflinching eyes. Behind them both stood Bob, his arms crossed, his face stern.
“I appreciate your intentions,” Sibley continued in a more ingratiating tone. “But you’re not on the board anymore. I’m taking care of this. The protestors have been removed. The children are coming down.”
“Sibley, you simply do not appreciate the magnitude of the problem. You can’t just go on ignoring the board’s directives. They want this incident ended—the article was the last straw. The only question remaining is what to do with the property? And to resolve that,” she lifted her head and Julian felt her search out his face and study it with unwarranted intensity, “we need to bring these children down from the tree house and give them a seat at the table.”
There had been no question of obeying the Lady, as the children dubbed her. Ivan, chastened, dropped quietly down on his rope. Bob gave Sibley a dark glance, then watched over the children as they descended one by one on the pulley seat. He instructed them to return to the house, then turned and followed Sibley and the Lady down the trail toward Greeley Road.
It was only when they had crossed the river that the children realized they had abandoned their protest. But somehow, Julian thought, they had all understood, without discussing it, that they had no real choice. They didn’t feel defeated. To the contrary, they were elated, too excited to talk clearly, unsure of what would happen next.
Before they even entered the house, they could hear Bob’s voice, low and angry. When they reached the kitchen, he stopped talking abruptly. The Lady was seated at the table, next to a sleek laptop and a pad of legal paper. Sibley shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“You see, they’re here now,” the Lady said without smiling. “Children, please have a seat.” Julian sat down as far away from Sibley as possible, with Danny and Robin on either side of him.
“Hello, Julian,” the Lady said. Julian wondered again why she had singled him out from the others. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
To simply say no seemed rude. And the more Julian looked at her, the more he felt as though he had seen her before. Maybe she was in the news. Somebody famous, like a senator or an ambassador. He glanced at Robin, but she seemed just as perplexed as he was.
“I’m sorry,” he finally mumbled.
“Let’s just say, for now, that I know who you are. I’ve been watching you, and I have a number of questions I would like you to answer for me.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, but continued briskly. “To begin with, could you tell me how is it that you came to be interested in Big Tree Grove?”
Julian blanched. “Um,” he said after a moment. “It’s next door to Robin’s house.”
“Of course.” She gave a nod in Robin’s direction. “And you and Miss Elder were pen pals, if I remember correctly. And that precipitated your sudden departure from Sibley’s home.” Her gray eyes gave him no hint of what was coming. “Is that correct?”
Julian nodded.
“And how do you explain the amazing coincidence that your pen pal, Miss Elder, just happens to live next door to the IPX timber holdings?”
The moment Julian had dreaded had finally arrived. Perhaps they had been tricked after all. Perhaps the whole conversation with Sibley had merely been a ruse to get them down from the tree house.
“I can’t really explain it,” Julian said at last.
“Then perhaps I can shed some light on the matter.” She pressed a button on her laptop and an image appeared on the opposite wall. “Ah, the wonders of modern technology,” she said in a pleased voice. “Tell me, do you recognize this e-mail?”
There, on the wall, appeared his name, “JULIAN,” and beneath it, the terrible phrases that still haunted him—“lacks even the most basic social graces,” “mother’s lifestyle,” “Julian does resemble his father,” “the sullenness, etc.,” “intensive math.” Julian felt his heart start to beat faster. Sibley was studying the projection with narrowed eyes.
Julian searched the face of the white-haired Lady for some clue as to how to answer. She was looking at him with an intensity that he took at first for anger, but then decided was simply curiosity.
“Yes,” he finally stammered.
“Of course, you do,” she said, sounding pleased. “And this one?”
At the top, it said “SIBLEY CARTER IS A MORON AND A WORLD-CLASS JERK!!!”
Sibley’s face flushed to a bright pink. Robin squirmed in her chair and glanced nervously at her father. “You recognize it as well?”
“Yes.” Julian’s stomach was starting to churn. He was afraid he was going to throw up.
“But you erased the e-mails so your uncle wouldn’t know you’d seen them.”
“Well, yes.” Julian didn’t dare look in Sibley’s direction.
“And yet here they are! You’re surprised, I see, but I’ve learned that a computer never forgets.” She carefully pressed a few buttons, and the images disappeared.
“You see, I’m a great fan of mysteries, and when I saw your face in the paper, I knew this was my chance. Coincidence is the stuff of fiction, not real life. Something more than coincidence brought you to Robin Elder’s house, and I came all the way here to find out what. And, now, I believe I have succeeded. It was Sibley’s letter, followed by Miss Elder’s e-mail, which actually triggered your departure from Sibley’s home. Am I correct?”
“I guess so,” Julian said. “Well, they were already sending me away.”
“Indeed. And prior to erasing the letter from Miss Elder, you relayed it to your good friend, Mr. Danny Lopez.”
Julian nodded mutely. Danny, for once, had nothing clever to say.
“You were able to manage all this while Sibley was away at a meeting, when you were alone, ill, in his office. For hours, so I understand. Is that true?”
“Well, the first e-mail had my name on it,” Julian ventured as a sort of apology.
“And the other was quite irresistible, I’m sure.” She stared in an amused way at Sibley. “You subsequently made contact with Miss Elder. And ran away to her house.”
Julian nodded.
“You were, however, apprehended by Daphne and returned to San Francisco and, ultimately, to your maternal grandmother. And then, a press release was issued.”
Julian nodded warily.
“A heartwarming press release. All about how IPX would do the right thing and save Big Tree Grove.” She pre
ssed another key and the press release appeared on the wall.
Seeing it, Julian couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. He glanced at Danny, who was watching the woman warily. Bob scanned the text against the wall.
“Unfortunately,” the Lady continued, “the Chronicle didn’t print the press release in full, or even in part. Sibley had to provide me with a copy. But still, the grandeur of your vision! And the attention to detail!” For the first time, she looked truly happy. “At first, I thought you must have had help. But the more closely I investigated, the more I was certain that you acted alone. With the assistance, of course, of your partner in crime, Mr. Lopez.”
Partner in crime? Danny looked worried.
“And then of course, there was the password! Tell me, how did you manage to puzzle that out?”
“Just a lucky guess.” Julian wasn’t about to admit going through Sibley’s drawers.
“‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again,’” the Lady said archly. “I used to tell your uncle that long ago. I suppose it sunk in. But, in any case, the faux press release did not succeed. There was no change in IPX policy. No noble gesture from Sibley. Just pabulum spit out by a corporate spokeswoman.”
Julian wasn’t sure what pabulum was, but he nodded.
“And then,” she said, eyes shining, “you began your protest. And you got quite a bit of press coverage, thanks, no doubt, to Mrs. Li. But really, did you ever actually believe,” she asked in her cool tone, “that you would succeed? That you could save Big Tree Grove?”
Julian didn’t know what to say. They had thought, walking back to the house in such high spirits, that they had succeeded. He had the sensation that the Lady was hiding something, holding something back. And, yet, the Lady’s curiosity was disarming. Her fascination with the subject seemed to mirror his own.
“I’m not really sure,” he said slowly. “Big Tree Grove is still there and I guess it’s not completely over until it’s cut down. Robin’s mom always says, ‘A way will open.’”
“And do you believe this?”
Did he? He chose his words carefully. “Maybe not on its own. But maybe, if you keep trying to really think about how to make something happen, it could happen. Not always. But if you’re lucky.”
“And do you think a way will open to save Big Tree Grove?”
“No.” And Julian suddenly realized the childishness of all their efforts. He knew in his heart that Big Tree was doomed, that soon it would exist only in his memory.
“Why not?”
“Because the Elders and the scientists did everything they could to save Big Tree and Robin and Ariel and Danny and I did too and none of it worked. And the THP is approved and it’s all legal and there’s nothing to stop them from logging it.”
“But, as you wisely pointed out, it’s not logged yet. A way could still open.”
“Not unless you’re the way,” Julian said ruefully.
She seemed delighted with his answer and looked about the table as if the others would share her delight.
“But you see, my dear, I am.”
Just then, the door slammed open, and Molly and Jo-Jo ran in with their mother, and behind them, laughing and calling out their names, was Preston, his face shining and his legs strangely bare-looking in shorts and summer sandals.
“Gram!” he said. “I milked a goat! Julian! Daddy—how did you get here?”
ulian sat stunned in the midst of the chatter and buzz that had transformed the room. This formidable woman was Gram? His own grandmother?
She owed him a few computer games, was Julian’s first fleeting thought.
Then, suddenly it sank in that she wasn’t from IPX, or the police, or the FBI. The truth had been revealed, all his crimes and secrets brought to light, and nobody, it seemed, was going to send him to prison.
Last of all, it dawned on him what she had said. That somehow she was going to help save Big Tree Grove.
“You’re Gram?” he said wonderingly.
“It’s time we were properly introduced,” she resumed, after smoothing Preston’s damp hair away from his forehead. “My name is Abigail Winslow Carter.”
A.W. Carter, Julian realized. The one who’d sent the first e-mail.
Sibley cleared his throat. “Mother, I’m going to stop you here. I don’t think you—”
“Sibley, just hold on.” She turned to Julian. “I thought it was time we met in person. I admire your gumption. Your grandfather had gumption. Whatever he put his mind to, he accomplished. Unfortunately, my sons didn’t inherit Jack’s character.”
There was not a hint of apology in her voice. Julian glanced over at Sibley, who was staring down at his fingers.
She cleared her throat. “My boys never got along,” she said in a formal tone. “Sibley resented Billy from the day he was born. And Jack didn’t understand your father either. They had a terrible fight, and then Billy just disappeared.”
She stared at Julian as though she was trying to read something in his face. “We didn’t even know of your existence for years. And then, just when it seemed that reconciliation might be possible, Billy was in that terrible accident. My Jack passed away a few weeks later. I stopped traveling. Oh,” she continued in a voice that, for the first time, sounded tired and old, “there’s no excuse. I knew you were here, and yet I didn’t know you or what you might be like, and I thought your father had brought me enough heartache.
“When I saw your picture in the paper, so like your father—the shape of the face, something about the eyes—and yet so unlike him, I said to myself, ‘Finally, somebody in the family with gumption. It must have skipped a generation.’ I read the article from top to bottom—so many mysteries waiting to be solved. I flew out immediately. And piece by piece, I put the puzzle together.
“And then, of course, there was this irresistible piece of fund–raising.” She picked up a black leather purse, pulled out a white envelope, and unfolded a piece of lined paper. She passed the paper to Julian and he saw Preston’s neat handwriting:
Preston was leaning against Gram and beaming happily.
“I told you I knew somebody who could help,” he said in his piping voice. “Wasn’t that a good idea I had?”
“Between Preston’s letter and the newspaper article,” Gram continued, “how could I stay in Boston? Especially when IPX was floundering. I served on the IPX board for years, you know, when Jack was ill. What a shame that Sibley couldn’t stand up and protect those magnificent trees.”
“Really, Mother. I don’t think these personal attacks are necessary—” Sibley began, but she waved her hand dismissively.
“So, now what is to be done? That’s the real question. What is to be done with Big Tree?”
Robin had started squirming in her seat and, after a moment, she could no longer contain herself. “Big Tree Grove should be protected,” she called out urgently. “It should be protected so that it can never be cut down.”
Gram smiled. “Miss Elder. I thought you might have a few ideas to start us off.” She began scribbling in her note pad.
“Ever,” Ariel added. “Not cut down, ever.”
“And you should plant new trees,” Julian said.
“Permanent protection,” Gram was taking it all down in a neat, slanted cursive. “Replanting.”
“And, no offense, but I think you need a new boss,” Danny said. “Somebody who actually likes redwood trees.”
“But Gram,” Preston asked, “aren’t you buying the redwoods?”
“Me? Good gracious, no! What would I do in Boston with a California redwood grove? And then, all those taxes!”
“You could give it to a conservation group, or make it into a park, or something,” Robin said.
“But it’s our tree house,” Molly wailed. “We can’t give away the tree house.”
Everybody was silent again.
“Perhaps it would be more appropriate to keep Big Tree Grove for the young,” Gram said. “The older generations ha
ve certainly done enough damage.” She sighed. “When I was a girl, the world felt new to me. Untouched. I suppose you don’t feel that way anymore.”
Julian imagined Big Tree Grove going on and on for miles and miles, the giant redwoods stretching from ridge to ridge. No houses, no roads, no fences. That world wasn’t so long ago, he thought. Not even two hundred years ago, the forest had stood fresh and untouched for the next generation.
“What if it were a forest for children?” he said.
“We could have school groups come and they could raise money and we could buy more land and more redwoods.” Robin’s straight eyebrows were knit together and she was twisting her braid around her finger. “Just like they do for the rain forest.”
“Zip lines,” Danny said. “And bridges to go from one tree to the next. And maybe another tree house.”
Ariel frowned. “I don’t know. It should be beautiful, like it is now.”
“We don’t want all the ferns trampled down,” Robin agreed.
“The Children’s Everlasting Redwood Grove,” Ariel said dreamily. Gram continued writing in her note pad.
“No fences,” Julian said. “No ticket booths or snack bars or parking lots.”
Danny groaned. “No snack bars? That’s un-American.”
“Definitely no snack bars,” Robin said. “And not too big. It’ll be educational, for all those poor, ignorant city kids like Julian and Danny.”
Danny gave Robin a phony smile. “It’s not like everybody’s going to be swarming over this place anyway,” he said. “I mean, it’s about a million miles down a dirt road.”
“I don’t know.” Ariel looked doubtful. “Maybe it should be just for us. I didn’t like it with all those people there.”
Julian considered. “But what about Jo-Jo? And Preston? And kids who aren’t even born, maybe.” Kids like him, who never knew that something like Big Tree existed.
“Anything else?” Gram said after a moment of silence. Nobody spoke.
“Then we are in agreement.” Gram looked down at her note pad and read aloud: “‘Big Tree Grove is to be permanently protected from timber harvesting and replanted with redwood seedlings in appropriate locations. The grove is to be maintained and enjoyed for the education of the young and future generations. Fences, ticket booths, snack bars, and parking lots are strictly prohibited.”
Operation Redwood Page 22
