by Mike Hopper
“If only you didn’t make such a big deal about things. I could be home with my leaf now. I could be sitting down enjoying my newest color. Steuart, you are destroying my happy autumn moment.”
“Ruining this? I’m trying to keep both of us from getting into trouble.”
“Besides, if you remember what happened, you’ll also remember that nobody called the police last time.”
“Are you trying to say that makes it okay? Hey, I read every day,” Steuart threw his index finger against his chest and puffed up.
“Old novels, yes, I know.”
“So what? I know that things happen all around the world. You can learn a lot from a good book. There are always consequences to your actions. That’s one of the most important things you’ll learn.”
Sam sighed, “Are you done yet?”
“No, I’m not. Sam, we could have been hurt. Since you know everything, tell me what either of us could have done about that? Do you remember?” Steuart tried to whisper and raise his voice at the same time. “Sam, look at this place. These people probably have a security guard. They may have an entire security force. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re on camera now. Go ahead, wave and smile for the camera.” Steuart paused to wave and smile. “The juvenile detention officers are on their way. Let’s make it easy for them to identify us.” He looked into the trees and waved, “Hi, hello, my sister and I don’t want to cause trouble. We’re trespassing because she would like to take one of your leaves. Please don’t kill us.” He put his hand down and turned to look at Sam, “We’re just minutes from becoming infamous. We’ll be locked up with a steady diet of dirty drinking water, cold beans and white bread.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “I doubt the water’s dirty.”
“What’s your point? We won’t be able to see each other, or anyone else. Mother will sign a release for money, sell our souls to the media and write a book called Kids Caught in the Act, followed by a second one titled, How My Children Embarrassed Me and Why I Can Never Forgive them.”
Sam shook her head and laughed.
“You think that’s funny? That won’t be the end of things. She’ll keep going with appearances and speaking engagements until she finishes up with her third blockbuster, Adoption: I Did, You Shouldn’t. Please Let Me Tell You Why.”
“You’ve definitely been reading those novels. I can always tell.”
Steuart reached down, picked up two yellow leaves and held them over his eyes. “We’ll never be able to show our faces in public again. I’ll never see my children because I’ll never have a relationship outside of prison. I’ll never have a family unless I hook up with some crazy woman who falls in love with bad men—a nightmare existence.
“Enough. I’m getting tired. Cut the comedy routine. You’re being childish.”
Steuart shook his head and dropped the leaves. “Maybe, I am. I’m only ten, but I know about these things. Sam, you may be destroying my entire life and your entire life at the same time—wrong place, right time, who knows what might happen?”
“What?”
“You’ll never enter politics.”
Sam cringed and then laughed. “What makes you think that I have an interest in politics? You’re so silly.”
“You could change your mind.”
“I don’t think so. Maybe you should go into politics.”
Steuart shrugged, “Things like this can follow a person forever.”
“You’ve got to stop reading those Tad Grey novels.” Sam turned her back to the tree and leaned against the ladder. “Steuart, you’re acting extra silly. Everyone knows that you’re entertaining, but I’m getting bored.”
“I’m not trying to be humorous.” Steuart picked up two more leaves and created a new mask. “I’m serious,” he laughed.
“This is not one of your comedy routines. We’re losing time with all of this silliness.”
“I’m not teasing. I remember. You do too.”
“I think we’re safe. We’re not going to be arrested.”
“You don’t know that. All it takes is being in the wrong place at the right time. Maybe there’s a dead body up there. We could be framed.”
“Stop it!” Sam held up her hand and pointed her finger in the air towards the leaves. “I will concede that we shouldn’t have gone into that woman’s building back home. And I have no problem telling you that I will never do that again. This, however, is not the same thing. This is different.” Sam sighed and shifted her feet. “Steuart, we need to get started.”
“How is it different?”
“This is a tree house. That was a shed.”
Steuart dropped his leaves, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting this time—just an itty bitty bit?”
Steuart stared at his sister.
Sam sighed, “I’m sorry that you’re feeling upset. I’m sorry that I’ve picked on you today. I am sorry that you’re uncomfortable.” She turned and faced the tree, placed both hands on the ladder and looked up at the leaves. “I have to have one of those leaves. I’ll climb-up, get one, and then I will leave.” She turned and looked at her brother, “I have to know that you’ll not say anything to Mother or Grandmother. Can I count on you? You can go home now. I won’t be angry.”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.”
“I’m staying.” Sam began to climb the ladder.
Steuart continued to stare. He said nothing.
Sam stopped and looked down at her brother, “You know how important my colors are to me. Do I ever stop you from getting new words? I always support the things you want to do. I never give you a hard time. I always support you, don’t I?” She began to cry.
“Don’t start with tears. Please, don’t do it. Don’t cry. I refuse to fall for that.” Steuart picked up his bike. “You’re not winning any points with me.”
“I’m asking for help from my brother. That’s all I’m doing,” Sam sniffled.
“I never break and enter to get new words.” Steuart straddled his bike, folded his arms and looked at his sister.
Sam turned her head and looked at Steuart who was still staring without any expression. “It’s just a color,” she looked up at the house, “and I doubt seriously that these people have a guard.”
Steuart didn’t move.
“Tell you what. I’ll make a deal with you. Help me get my leaf and in exchange, I’ll make your bed for the next three days.”
Steuart shifted from one foot to the other. He got off the bike for a minute, changed his mind, and then got back on. “Three days?” He shifted a tiny bit more, pursed his lips, cocked his head, and looked around for watchers.
“What do you say?” Sam asked.
Steuart knew that Ida would be disappointed in the conversation. She wouldn’t agree with making these kinds of bargains and would be quick to tell him so. He looked up at the tree house with a curious sort of expression and muttered something under his breath as he let out a sigh. He smiled, “Maybe we can negotiate.”
“What?” Sam stepped down a rung, “I can’t hear you. What did you say?”
Steuart got off his bike and lay it on the ground, “Sam, I can’t let you do this by yourself. I’m your brother, your only brother. Unfortunately, we have to look at the facts. I’ve not forgotten what happened last time you asked for my help. I’ve not forgotten that Mother grounded you for an entire month. I have also not forgotten what she said.”
“What was that?”
“She said you wouldn’t be the only one grounded next time. She’ll ground me as your accomplice. As much as I may want to help you, I also have to look at the facts.”
“What facts are you talking about?”
“Quite simply, the potential risk to my freedom.” Steuart put his hands in his pockets. He walked closer to the tree. “The potential cost is too high to do this for nothing.”
“Three days are not nothing.”
“They are if I end up grounded for a month. We’re in a new place. This is a new day. We’re in a new city. I’m thinking that my services are worth more than a few days of bed making freedom.”
Sam rolled her eyes and sighed.
“I don’t want to begin my life in a new city stuck inside of the house for a month with that Nanny Claire woman.” Steuart made a face, “She makes me uncomfortable. I don’t care for her.”
“I don’t either.”
“I’d vomit daily if that happened. She gives me the creeps. I couldn’t stand that, even if you were making my bed. Also, Grandmother isn’t here to help talk Mother out of extreme punishment. We both know that Grandmother’s the only one who can curb Mother’s draconian ways.”
“So, you won’t do it? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Simply this,” Steuart continued walking around the tree. “If I’m putting myself at risk, I’m going to have to insist on more than two or three days of compensation. That was fine in the old days but not enough now. I don’t think so.” Steuart shook his head and walked towards his bike.
“Wait!”
“What am I waiting for?”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Okay,” Steuart scratched his head and frowned, “tell you what…” He bit his lip and then ran his tongue across his teeth. He took another deep breath. “I’m willing to take the risk and lend a hand…”
“Yes! Thank you. Let’s get started.”
“Hold on,” Steuart put his hands out. “Don’t get excited too quickly.”
“Great, what now?”
“I know this is important to you and I want to help.”
“So, help me already.”
“Not so fast. I would appreciate something in return. How about making my bed for the next—three weeks.” Steuart nodded, stood firm and repeated his demand, “Three weeks; I think that’s appropriate compensation.”
“I should have known. I’ve spent all this time trying to appeal to your empathetic nature when all I needed was a bribe. Thanks little brother.” Sam put her hands against the tree and took another look. She breathed in the colors. She felt intoxicated by the luminescence of the sun through the trees. She looked at her brother and frowned, “Three weeks? That’s too long. You know that.”
“Take it—or leaf it.” Steuart chuckled.
“Take it,” Sam whispered to herself and touched the tree again. She looked at her brother, “Okay,” she nodded, “it will be my pleasure to make your bed for three weeks.”
Steuart shook his head. “You need to do better than that.”
“What? How can I be nicer than that?”
“I need to hear you say: It will be my pleasure to make your bed for the next three weeks. I don’t want to spend the next sixty years waiting for payment.”
“Fine,” Sam nodded. “It will be my pleasure to make your bed for the next three weeks. You’ve got a deal. You get three weeks of bed making in exchange for helping me in the tree house and also keeping our secret.”
“Okay,” Steuart stepped forward. He walked towards the ladder and then hesitated. He turned back again and reached for his bike.
“Now what? Stop looking at your bike. We have a deal. I’m getting tired of standing here. Come on. There’s no reason to hesitate.”
“We didn’t shake on it.” Steuart picked up his bike and stood firm, “What about a month?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You want a month?”
“Yeah, a month. I didn’t take hazard pay into consideration when I extended my offer. This is a tall tree house.”
“No,” Sam shook her head. “Absolutely not. No. No. No. No. No! You’re too late. You asked for three weeks. I said, yes. Three weeks, that includes your hazard pay. Come on—let’s do this thing. This is simple.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure-as-Matt. I don’t want the color bad enough to throw in an extra week. I should withdraw my offer. We should go home. I’m done.”
“What?”
“I’m serious. We can go home now if you’re determined to continue this extortion. Three weeks. I’ll do it for three weeks, but not a day over. Take it, or leave it. I don’t care at this point.”
“Of course, you do.”
Sam shook her head, “No, I don’t. I don’t need your help. I’m seriously ready to withdraw my offer. I’ll do this alone.” She began climbing.
Steuart followed.
* * *
The ladder was much taller than it appeared from the ground and much taller than anything Sam or Steuart had ever attempted. After a climb of thirty-one rungs, Sam entered the tree house and walked to the window. “Oh, Steuart, look at what we’ve been missing.” She took a deep breath and leaned out. “This is so worth everything.”
Steuart looked around, “Yeah, this place is cool.”
“It’s beautiful,” Sam clapped her hands, “beautiful, beautiful, oh, so sweet. Look at these colors, what a treat!”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Are we collecting colors or writing poetry? We need to get out of here. Snip, snip—I said I would help you. I didn’t say I’d attend a tea party.”
“Oh, yeah, okay,” Sam pulled her scissors from her backpack, stood at the window and looked for her perfect color. She reached to cut her leaf from the tree. Further than she estimated, Sam had to lean far, grab a large branch and pull it in close to get at the leaf she wanted. She leaned, strained, looked down and felt her stomach drop as she lost contact. “I can do this,” she whispered. Again, she reached and pulled on the branch. Again, she lost contact. The branch was huge. Sam tugged and pulled. The branch was full of spring. She was about to snip her leaf when the branch suddenly pulled back. Sam strained and held tight, pulling the thing close. The branch pulled back again. Sam reached out, this time pulling harder. That’s when the branch won, pulling her feet lifted from the floor. She was being pulled out the window. She fought to hold the branch and stay inside. Determined to win, Sam gasped for air and continued the fight.
Steuart jumped across the floor. He grabbed hold of his sister’s legs and pulled back with all of his weight, continuing until Sam’s feet were safely on the floor. The tree, refusing to cooperate, pulled and lifted Sam’s body, this time halfway out the window. Steuart thrust his body upward using his weight against his Sam’s, pinning her between his body and the wall of the tree house. He wrapped one arm around Sam’s waist as he held onto the windowsill with the other. “Let it go!” he screamed. He felt a splinter go into his palm. “Let the branch go! I don’t know how long I can hold you!”
Sam refused to give up. She continued pulling at the tree, stretching with her arms and reaching with her scissors for the leaf. “I can do this! Don’t worry!” She eyed the leaf. She looked down at the ground. Sam’s ankles were now on the windowsill. Her knees were skinned, but she didn’t know.
Steuart felt his feet leave the floor and his body being pulled out the window with his sister. “Let it go, Sam!”
Crack!
The branch broke and snapped into the window as it pushed Steuart and Sam inside, pinning them against the floor. Steuart with his splintered hand lay underneath his sister, her bleeding knees and the extra large branch. He shoved Sam aside and sat up, “Hazard pay,” he groaned, catching his breath, “Hazard pay—above and beyond.”
“Yeah,” Sam breathed hard. “Okay, hazard pay, no problem.”
“You could have been killed! Are you absolutely insane? We both could have been killed.”
“I know,” Sam whispered. She held her hand against her heart and continued trying to catch her breath. She looked at her brother, “Steuart, you saved my life.”
“I could have been killed too. We both could be on the ground now with all of our bones broken—totally dead.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam bit her lip and began crying.
“Maybe you’ll listen to me next time when I’m trying to tell you something.” Steuart held his palm open and pulled
out the splinter. “That was insane. I can’t believe what almost happened here. You almost got us killed.” He shook his head slowly, “No color is worth this much trouble—ever. I mean it.”
Eventually, Sam, still holding onto her scissors, stopped crying. She sat up, leaned against the tree house wall and snipped her leaf from the branch. She held it in her hands and took several deep breaths. She closed and opened her eyes and looked for changes. Steuart shared his mini flashlight as they gingerly held the leaf, discussing the variation of shades and tones, examining the thing from side to side, top to bottom and back to front. Sam smiled, “I wish I didn’t like it so much.”
“It’s magnificent,” Steuart said, shaking his head, “But it’s not worth it.”
Sam opened her backpack and pulled out the cabbage rose file. Gently, she slid the leaf inside between two pieces of soft white tissue paper. “You’re right. It’s not worth what it almost cost us. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“What a story.”
“Too bad we can’t tell anyone.”
“It’s a true treasure. It is. I think this is one of my all-time favorites.”
“It should be. Imagine going to all this trouble and not getting the one you want.”
“Don’t even think that—please.”
“I’m glad that you like it considering what could have happened.” Steuart let out a big sigh. “You owe me big on this one.”
“I know.”
“I mean it. I’m not just talking. You owe me big.”
“I know.”
“Imagine someone trying to explain this to Mother: Ms. DuBoise, your children were located below the tree house. We are very sorry ma’am. We’re investigating … it looks as if they both jumped. Have your children been unhappy lately?”
Sam didn’t respond. She put the folder away and stood with Steuart. Calm now, she looked at the ground and felt her heart race. Steuart leaned out the window. They could just barely see the river through the trees.
Sam became lost in the moment. “Wouldn’t it be great if this were our tree house?”
