Back on the Map

by Lisa Ann Scott

  I had seven strands by the time I was done, each one more than three times as long as I was tall. Then I tied them all onto a spare bicycle tire, and tied a big metal hook on top that I could loop over a tree limb.

  The trees were so tall, I’d have to hunt down a ladder to hang my chime. I decided I’d find one in town and grab lunch, too.

  My tummy grumbled at the very thought of food, so I told Parker and Chase to clean up, then went inside to get Carly. I could hear her working in one of the back rooms. “Carly, we’re going to get lunch.” As I walked into the room she was working in, I blinked a few times. “What’s this?”

  Carly stood on a chair with a paintbrush, dabbing at the wall. She looked over her shoulder. “I was checking out the colors on the wall, and couldn’t help myself. It was like something got a hold of my hand and made me start painting. Doesn’t it look amazing?”

  “Wow!” One wall was covered from floor to ceiling with splotches of color. The other wall had tiny paintings of animals and things, like a brown bear, a brown leaf, an orange carrot, a red apple. It was an incredible mural. “This will definitely help sell this building to someone. Who wouldn’t love it?”

  “I’m going to do the whole room like this.” She hopped off her chair and wiped her hands on a rag. “I never knew I liked painting so much.”

  “We should save some paint to use upstairs.” I grabbed a big bucket of it. The label said it was five gallons. It was heavy, so it would probably be enough to paint a few rooms.

  “Penny, that’s gotta be like fifty pounds. We need help with it,” Carly said.

  “I can do it.” I shuffled a few feet with the can, then set it down. I did this again and again until I got to the bottom of the stairs. Then I set the can on a stair. And then the next. And the next. My arms shook from the weight of it.

  But, finally, I had it on the top step. I sat down for a minute, tired from the hard work. And the can toppled over, yellow paint pouring down the stairs like a waterfall.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Carly’s jaw dropped open.

  I closed my eyes for a minute. This wasn’t going to be a problem. We’d figure it out. “Guess the stairs are going to be yellow.” I climbed onto the banister and slid down the railing.

  “I was right,” Carly said. “You should have asked for help.”

  “It’ll be fine. Yellow stairs are unique!”

  She shrugged. “I suppose I can make it into an interesting mural.”

  “Sure!”

  We walked to the diner, and I pulled the trading cart inside. A few people were sipping coffee at the counter, while others sat in the comfy, red leather booths. Mr. Carlson looked up from behind the counter and smiled. “My favorite customers. Come on in! What do you have for me today?”

  “We’d like to trade for four lunches. We’re working on New Hope’s Finest again,” I told him. “Plus, I have a critter I made special for Mrs. Carlson,” I said in a low voice.

  He grinned. “Betty, the kids are here with new critters.”

  Mrs. Carlson was all smiles again, and I tried to imagine what she’d looked like the day before, when she was sad. I’d never seen it.

  I held out the cat for her. “Since you like the dog so much, I thought you’d like a kitty, too. Might make you smile on days when you feel like you can’t.”

  She took it from me like it was a giant diamond. “This is exquisite. Just lovely. Thank you, Penny.” She set her hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Your creativity tickles me so, child. My Mary …” She sucked in a deep, wobbly breath. “My Mary was creative like you. It’s wonderful.”

  “Thanks,” I said quietly.

  “Mr. Carlson will have to build a bigger shelf soon.” She chuckled as she found a spot for the cat.

  I held my breath, wondering if a hug was on its way. “I have others in the cart to trade for lunches. We’re taking a break.”

  But no hug came. She frowned instead. “You kids are still working over there?”

  “Yes, ma’am. You should come take a look.”

  “I will never, ever, go over there,” she whispered, before darting back behind the counter.

  I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to say.

  Old Mr. Smith, who spent most mornings at the diner, slid off his chair at the counter and came over. Took him a bit. He didn’t move so fast. “What’s this about you kids working at New Hope’s Finest?”

  I blinked a few times, still surprised by Mrs. Carlson’s harsh words. I tucked my hands in my jean pockets. “We’re cleaning it up so we can find a new buyer.”

  He pulled a toothpick out of his shirt pocket and stuck it between his back teeth. “Why now? It’s been sitting idle for years.”

  All the chatter in the diner seemed to have stopped. A roomful of ears was fixed on us.

  “Leave it be,” Mr. Smith said. “That place ruined so many lives.”

  I cleared my throat. “I suppose that’s why we’re doing it. It’s been making the whole town feel sorry for so long. It’s time to change that.” People wouldn’t understand why I had to get New Hope back on the map, so I left that bit out.

  Mr. Tyler from the gas station got up now, too, and stood next to Mr. Smith. “And how are you kids going to do that?” He took off his ball cap and scratched his wild, curly hair. The dark strands seemed to be fighting with the gray ones over which got to be in control.

  “There’s four of us. We can do it.” I held up a finger. “Although we could use a ladder. Do you have one, Mr. Smith?”

  “Got one at home, but I’m not going near the Finest. You kids shouldn’t be either.”

  I crossed my arms. “You can pick something from my trading cart in exchange.”

  “I don’t want to be involved.” Mr. Smith shook his head and went back to his seat.

  Well, I certainly wasn’t going to beg him to help. I’d have to do it myself.

  “You kids shouldn’t be up there,” Mr. Tyler said.

  I crossed my arms. “The mayor said we could, and she’s in charge. So we’re going to keep working.”

  I sat down, quickly ate lunch, and got back to the Finest to hang that wind chime. Maybe when people saw some progress, they’d change their mind and be more excited about the project. I had to work harder and faster. I had to hang that wind chime right away to stir up some excitement.

  Carly, Chase, and Parker came up the driveway and started working on their projects again. “Be right back!” I told them, and I dashed across the street to the hardware store. “Mr. Gaiser, do you have a ladder I could rent?”

  He walked out from the store’s back room. “I do. But what do you need it for?”

  “A project I’m doing at the Finest.”

  He crossed his arms and shook his head. “I don’t want to be responsible if something goes wrong. What if you fell off the ladder? Find something else to do this summer.”

  I gritted my teeth, but I left the store and marched over to the site. I could do this myself.

  I stacked up the records looped together in my wind chime, stuffed the whole thing into Carly’s backpack, and zipped it up. The bicycle wheel hung out of the back of it.

  I piled tires underneath a big maple tree to help me reach the first branch. It was at least ten feet off the ground. I stacked up seven tires, and then three next to that to help me get up on the taller pile. I put on the backpack and climbed up onto the tires. The bike tire bounced against my back. It was heavy.

  Carly, Chase, and Parker stopped working and came over to watch me climb the tree.

  “Are you sure you can do that?” Carly asked.

  “I have to. I don’t have a ladder. I’ll be fine.” The first branch was still just out of reach, but there was a big knot sticking out of the tree, so I stepped up onto that and grabbed the branch. I hung on, getting my balance. It was tough climbing with the backpack and the wheel weighing me down. Harder than I thought, but I wouldn’t admit that.

  I pulled myself up to the first
branch and waited a bit, catching my breath. Then I moved up to another branch, and another. I peeked down at the ground and felt a little dizzy, I was so high up.

  “That’s far enough!” Carly hollered.

  “I know,” I responded. “Just let me hang this and I’ll be right down.” I wanted the chime to sway in the breeze, so I’d have to hang it far from the trunk. I’d have to crawl out along the branch to do that, which might sound easy, but seemed impossible from where I was sitting.

  I lay on my stomach and wrapped my arms and legs around the tree, inching my way out to the edge of the limb. It was a thick branch, but it sagged a bit under my weight. This was probably a bad, bad idea.

  “Penny, come back down. It’s not worth it,” Carly shouted.

  “I’ve got this, don’t worry.” I had to find my courage to sit up and unload the backpack. It was so much higher than I’d imagined. So much shakier. My heart pounded. One wrong move and I would fall. And if I did, I’d probably die, or break every bone in my body. Is this what the doom painting had been warning me about? Should I turn back? I looked behind me, but climbing back down with the heavy backpack seemed scary, too. No, I couldn’t give up now. I had to hang this wind chime so all those crabby customers at the diner could see what I was talking about. That there was possibility for this old, forgotten place.

  I slowly sat up on the limb and stayed still for a few moments, making sure I had my balance. Leaves on tiny branches around me shook in the breeze, like they were worrying about me. “I’m okay,” I hollered, even though I was nervous as all get out.

  “Penny, please come down!” Parker shouted.

  “Almost done.” I slid one arm out of the backpack, then the other. I sat it on my lap with the wheel on top. The limb wobbled with every movement. I looped one leg around a small branch sticking out from the one I was on. While gripping the tree with one hand, I unzipped the backpack and lifted out the wind chime. The backpack fell to the ground and Carly screamed.

  “I’m okay!” I reassured her. With one hand, I grabbed the big hook and hung it on the branch. It fit perfectly. “Almost done!”

  I released the wheel and then the stack of records attached to the fishing line, letting it drop from the tree so the wind chime could swing in the breeze. The records plunked down in place, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. But that’s when something jerked my leg, almost pulling me off the branch. I shook my foot. I realized one of the strings had wrapped around my ankle several times as it dropped, tugging on my leg. I grabbed the branch with both hands and lay on my belly, frightened I might fall.

  “Penny!” Parker shouted.

  I shook my leg, trying to free myself, but it was no use. I tried reaching my ankle, but my arm wouldn’t stretch that far. There was no way for me to untangle the wire without toppling off the branch.

  “We’re going to get help!” Carly called.

  “Okay!” I shut my eyes and tried to breathe slowly and deeply to stay calm. But my heart was a jackhammer. I was so far out on the branch, I was sure it would snap under me. I shimmied back toward the trunk as much as I could, but that wire wrapped around my ankle kept me from going too far. “I’m fine!” I shouted, more to calm myself down than anyone else.

  That horrible doom painting must’ve made this happen. It had been a curse after all. Was there anyone on my family tree who could help me out of this tree?

  I thought about Annie Edson Taylor, the first person to survive a trip over Niagara Falls in a barrel in 1901. She was on my family tree. I’m the descendant of an incredible daredevil, I reminded myself. But picturing her tumbling over a great big waterfall did not help me feel brave at that moment.

  There was no one on my family tree to help me. Was there anyone in town who could? Or maybe no one would bother, since they’d all warned me to stay away. This was all my fault. Maybe they’d try to shut down the project for good.

  CHAPTER 10

  Seemed like hours had passed by the time Mr. Gaiser showed up with a ladder, but it was probably only ten minutes. Guess time creeps by when you’re holding on for your life.

  “My ladder’s not tall enough to reach you,” Mr. Gaiser said as he stood beneath the tree. “How did you get up there?”

  I explained how I did it. “I’ll give you ten things from my trading cart if you get me down. No—twenty.”

  “I’m too heavy to come up and get you. The branch would break,” he said. “I’m calling the fire department.”

  “Okay.” I tried not to sound scared, but I wasn’t sure there was anyone who could get me down. My hands were getting numb from holding the tree so tight. Jagged bits of bark dug into my skin. The tree groaned and cracked, like it was deciding where to snap off the branch. I swear the wind was picking up, too, like it was going to help the tree toss me to the ground. How many people die from falling out of trees every year? I wondered.

  The fire department showed up a few minutes later, along with a line of people from town. But there were so many other trees, they couldn’t get their truck near me.

  “We’re working on a plan,” one of the firefighters yelled. “You’re doing great. Keep calm.”

  “Maybe you could pile up more tires and climb up to me,” I shouted down to the crowd. My mouth was dry, and my throat was getting hoarse from hollering.

  “The stack would be too unstable,” Mr. Smith said.

  Soon even more people from town were gathered under the tree. “Hang tight,” Mr. Carlson said. “We’ll figure something out. Mrs. Carlson is beside herself with worry right now.”

  Oh, I hated worrying her. But I noticed she wasn’t there. She wasn’t kidding when she said she’d never come to the Finest.

  “Just hold on. You’re doing great,” Mr. Gaiser shouted.

  “Thanks,” I hollered back. But I did not feel like I was doing great. I remembered the poster from Mr. Hanes’s room with the cat in the tree: “Hang in There, Baby!” What else could I do? I rested my head on the branch and wondered how scary it would be up here in the dark—if I didn’t fall before then. What if I never got down? Maybe people would come from miles around to see the girl who lives in a tree. That might get us back on the map.

  “I’m coming up to get you,” Parker yelled, trying to scramble up the tire pile. But he slipped and tumbled to the ground.

  Mr. Gaiser helped him to his feet and patted his head. “All right,” he said, with a sigh. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but there’s one person who might be able to help. I’ll be right back.”

  After he left, more and more people from town showed up. Some shouted words of encouragement. Others were wandering around the site, checking things out. A few went inside the building.

  “This darn wind chime better look good,” I grumbled to myself. What’s the world record for sitting in a tree? I wondered. Maybe I can break it. The record, not the tree limb! Oh, it was scary if I stopped to think about it. So I closed my eyes and whistled and hummed to myself while I made plans for other creations from all the scraps below.

  About half an hour after Mr. Gaiser left, I heard a rumble in the driveway. I opened my eyes and saw a rusty, white construction truck headed my way. It looked familiar.

  “No way,” I whispered to myself. “Is that Joe?”

  The people gathered below me cleared a space for Joe to drive toward the tree. He could get closer than the fire truck had, since his truck was smaller.

  Joe parked the truck and climbed out of the driver’s seat. He put his hands on his hips and looked up at me. “You okay?” His voice sounded shaky, and I wondered if he was worried about me, or worried about being in town with all those folks gawking at him.

  “I’m hanging in there.” My arms were shaking from holding on so tight.

  He blew out a breath. “I’ll be right up to get you.” He got back in the truck, and a big metal contraption slowly unfolded from the back of the truck. Then he climbed into the back compartment and strapped himself in with a harness.


  Joe fiddled around with something inside the bucket, and it rose into the air. Soon Joe was right beside me. Shaking his head, he sighed. “I warned you about this place. What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking this record wind chime would look real nice hanging from this big tree. And it will, once you get me untangled.”

  He reached over and unwound the fishing line from my leg. The string of records dropped from the tree and spun below us.

  Joe held out his hand. “Let’s get you down.”

  I swung my legs into the metal container and jumped in. The crowd below cheered, and I let out the longest breath ever. My legs shook, and I sat on the floor of the tiny box.

  Joe moved a few levers, and the bucket lowered to the ground slowly. He hopped out, then helped me follow. My arms felt numb from holding on to that branch so tightly, for so long.

  Parker ran over and hugged me. “I thought you’d be in that tree forever.”

  I hugged him back. “Nah, I knew I’d get down,” I said. Even though that wasn’t a hundred percent true.

  We were surrounded by a crowd of people.

  “You can take however many things you want from my trading cart,” I said to Joe. “Empty it, if you want.”

  “No need,” said Joe. “I’m just glad I could help get you down.”

  “But I need to pay you back somehow.”

  “No, you don’t. Thankfully I got my truck to start, so I could get down here,” Joe said.

  I stepped back and looked up at the wind chime. The records spun in the breeze. It looked even better than I’d imagined. “It’s amazing! Let’s make another one.”

  “I think one is enough.” Mr. Gaiser chuckled from where he was standing in the crowd. “Now I’d better go unlock the shop. Not that there’s going to be a line of people waiting for me.” He shuffled off down the driveway.

  Joe walked toward the building, and I followed him onto the porch. “Thanks, Joe. Guess that’s the bad thing that happened cause of your doom painting. So it should be nice and easy from here on out,” I said. “If you wanted to come back again or something.”