by Brann Garvey
“This can’t be happening!” I wailed.
But it was happening, and I needed time for the shock to wear off.
An Unexplained Law of the Universe: Bad news takes longer than good news to sink in.
I did what I always did when I wanted to be alone.
I ran to the tree house.
But when I got to the tree-house-tree, I didn’t climb the ladder. Sitting in the tree house wouldn’t help this time.
The tree had to go so my family could have a pool. I had to get used to life without it.
Starting now.
I went to my room instead of going to the tree house. When I opened the door, I saw that Ping-ping was asleep on my pillow.
I sat on the end of the bed. Ping-ping opened one eye to make sure it was me. Then she went back to sleep.
I usually LOVED being in my room. It’s where I kept my stuff. People were more important, but things reminded me about the reasons I loved my family and friends.
I had all the clothes, shoes, and furniture I needed because Mom and Dad took good care of me.
Grandma gave me the MP3 player. She knew Bad Dog was my favorite band. And she knew that Dad wouldn’t let me play their CDs in the car.
My whole family chipped in to buy my computer at Dad’s store. My brother set it up, and he fixed it when something went KAPLOOEY.
That proved Jimmy loved me. Even though he wouldn’t talk to me unless he absolutely had to.
Adam and I were Harmon County Hawks baseball fans. Adam gave me a team pennant for my birthday. It hung on the wall with an autographed picture of the players.
Uncle Diego asked everyone on the team to sign the picture when he worked at the stadium. Then he gave it to me for my birthday this year, when I turned thirteen.
Monica gave me a cat calendar every Christmas. I hung that next to the pencil portrait of Ping-ping that Becca drew.
Then I remembered Brad’s picture. It was in the pocket of my jeans.
I had a special box that I kept in my closet. It’s where I kept all the letters I got in the mail, birthday cards, and other special things.
That was the best place to keep Brad’s picture. It would be safe there.
I put the photo in the box, and put the box back in my closet. My picture was safe, but the tree house wasn’t. Just thinking about it made me super sad all over again.
Suddenly, music blasted from Jimmy’s room across the hall. I jumped up to close my door.
“Claudia!” I heard Nick’s voice. It sounded like he was in the living room. “Where are you?” he yelled. “Come on, I want to play.”
I slammed the door and locked it. I did not want to deal with my bratty neighbor.
Ten seconds later, Nick pounded on my door. “Claudia! I want to go to the park. Are you in there?” he yelled.
“Come out or I’ll put jelly in your backpack and squish it,” Nick hollered.
My backpack was under my desk, so I wasn’t worried.
Nick kicked the door. “Ow! I broke my toe!” he screamed.
I didn’t say anything. Nick’s stubbed toe was his own fault.
“Your mom wants you,” Nick said. “She just made hot biscuits.”
I knew he was trying to TRICK me, so I sat quietly.
Nick stopped yelling, but I could hear him breathing. He huffed and puffed when he was mad. Another minute passed. He kicked the door again and stomped down the hallway.
I waited another minute. I knew Nick wouldn’t give up if he wanted something. He’d keep looking for me.
If I wanted to stay away from Nick, I had to hide where he wouldn’t find me. There was only one place Nick wouldn’t go.
I tiptoed down the hall. Then I paused at the top of the stairs and listened.
I heard my mom’s voice downstairs. “I don’t know where Claudia is, Nick,” she said.
“She has to be somewhere,” Nick insisted. “Kids don’t just disappear unless —” He gasped. “What if the Atomizer vaporized her?” he asked, sounding worried. “He’s Viper Man’s arch enemy. He can vaporize somebody in three seconds.”
“Hmm. Does the Atomizer live around here?” Mom asked.
“No,” Nick said.
“Then I’m sure Claudia is fine,” Mom said. “Check the tree house.”
Nick ran outside. “Claudia!” he yelled. “Where are you?”
I ran down the stairs and ducked through the basement door. Nick wouldn’t follow me into the basement.
He’d never admit it, but he was too scared of the basement. I didn’t blame him. It was too creepy, dark, and damp down there.
I hardly ever went down into the basement. Water dripped, pipes creaked, and spiders crawled on the walls. The windows were DIRTY, and very little sunlight shone in.
The basement was so creepy. It made me feel worse about the tree house.
I had to get out of my bad mood.
Only one thing might lift my spirits.
After I was pretty sure Nick was gone, I crept back upstairs and dialed the phone.
“Hi, Monica,” I said. “Call everyone and meet me at the Pizza Palace. Right away.”
CHAPTER 4
WHAT POOL PROBLEM?
The Pizza Palace was crowded. Anna and Carly were walking out just as I started to walk in.
Anna wrinkled her nose like she smelled something putrid. That’s my grandma’s word for something that smells gross, like stinking rot.
“Is something living in your hair?” Anna asked.
Oh no! A spider?
I ran my fingers through my hair. Anna laughed. Then I realized she was being mean.
“Your hair looks like a bird’s nest, Claudia,” Carly said.
OOPS. I had rushed out of the house without washing up or changing clothes. And I was in the basement and the dirty tree house!
I didn’t want to bother to explain my messy appearance. So I didn’t try.
“Gotta go,” I said. Then I walked inside.
I heard Anna stamp her foot and then stomp off. I smiled. It wasn’t fun to zing someone who didn’t care.
Inside, I spotted my friends sitting in a corner booth. Adam stood up, and I slid in beside Monica.
“We already ordered,” Peter said.
“Sodas for everyone,” Becca added.
“And an extra-large pepperoni-pineapple pizza,” Tommy said.
I loved pineapple in fruit salad. I hated it on pizza. Everybody knew that, but I was too upset to complain.
“Topped with red hot peppers, black olives, and fish slivers,” Tommy continued. “I call it the so-gross-nobody-else-will-eat-it anchovy special.”
“Oh,” I said.
Everybody stared at me.
“What’s wrong?” Monica asked.
“It must be serious,” Adam said. “Claudia usually GAGS just thinking about pineapple-anchovy pizza.”
“No pineappl
e and no salty little fish,” Peter said. “Just pepperoni. Honest.”
“Okay,” I said. I sighed.
“You’re a mess,” Adam said, noticing my hair and my dirty clothes. “Did you dive for home plate or get in a fight?”
“No and no,” I replied. Then I said, “I’m getting an in-ground swimming pool with a diving board and water slide.”
The So-Surprised-I-Don’t-Believe-It Chain Reaction
Blink: Did I hear that right?
Stare: She really said it!
Frown: Is this a joke?
“Are you kidding?” Adam asked.
“No, we’re really getting a pool,” I said. I sighed again. “But we have to cut down the tree-house-tree to make room.”
“So what?” Tommy exclaimed. “Teenagers do not hang out in tree houses.”
“Pool parties at your house will be awesome,” Becca said. “Right?”
I nodded. “Yes, but —”
“Yay,” Becca said. “I can’t wait. You can invite the whole school!”
“Anna never invites us to her pool parties,” Monica said. “Never.”
“Not even once,” Becca added. “You shouldn’t invite her to yours.”
“Anna wouldn’t come to a party at Claudia’s house anyway,” Peter pointed out.
That was probably true.
Anna was:
Pretty
Popular
Particular.
She only did cool stuff that was:
Expensive
Exclusive
Extraordinary.
“Then we’ll have to make Anna SORRY she missed Claudia’s first pool party,” Monica said.
“How?” Tommy asked. Then he blew his straw wrapper at Adam.
“Easy,” Becca said. “If everyone raves about it, Anna will be jealous.”
“I don’t care about Anna. I can’t wait to play Keep Away and Marco Polo,” Adam said. Then he wadded up Tommy’s straw wrapper and threw it back.
Tommy ducked. The wrapper flew into the booth behind him and hit someone’s head.
It was Sylvia. She slowly turned around. “Who did that?” she asked.
Everyone in our booth pointed to someone else.
Sylvia giggled and turned back around.
“I have to buy a new bathing suit!” Becca exclaimed.
“I need a new one too,” Monica said. “Let’s go to the mall tomorrow.”
My friends were so excited I had no choice. I had to pick the pool over the tree. But there was one bright side.
Anna’s pool was the one place everyone in the seventh grade wanted to hang out.
That was going to change.
CHAPTER 5
NIGHTMARE
Bad dreams gave me the shivers. Really bad dreams made me sick.
Dreaming about the tree-house-tree was like being trapped in a horror movie. It made me feel worse than sick. It made me feel horrible.
The Murdered Oak Nightmare
NIGHT – CORTEZ BACKYARD
There’s a full moon. The tree-house OAK TREE looks like a spooky skeleton. CLAUDIA is wearing a nightgown. She looks up at the tree.
CLAUDIA (sadly): I’m sorry, Tree. My family and friends want a swimming pool. We have to cut you down.
OAK TREE (begging): I’m your friend too! Please, don’t cut me down.
CLAUDIA: Sorry, Tree. We took a vote. You lost. Goodbye.
An Oak Tree branch grabs Claudia’s nightgown. She SCREAMS but she can’t break free.
OAK TREE (creepy wail): I don’t want to die!
That’s when I woke up.
Shaking.
With a stomach ache.
And cold chills.
The tree nightmare was the worst nightmare I’d ever had. It felt real, except for the tree talking and grabbing me.
After a nightmare, I usually fell back asleep. And I usually didn’t remember my dreams in the morning.
This time I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t forget. I sat in bed wide awake.
It was just before sunrise. Dim light and shadows = gloomy room = doom and gloom thoughts.
I felt guilty about cutting down the tree. The big oak was like an old friend.
Oak Tree Memories
Spotting tiny green leaf buds in spring.
Mom pushing me on the swing.
Jumping in piles of fall leaves.
Helping Dad string Christmas lights.
Handing Dad nails when he built the tree house.
The tree was an important part of my childhood.
Cutting down the tree = stop being a kid.
I was thirteen. I couldn’t cling to kid stuff forever. But the tree wasn’t just for kids. It was good for a thirteen-year-old, too.
Swinging helps me think when I’m stumped.
Being in the tree house keeps Nick busy.
Total privacy for talking with my friends.
How could I even think about cutting down the tree?
Bright morning sunlight came in my window. It chased away the gloom and cleared my head.
If I wanted to keep the tree, my friends would understand.
Wouldn’t they?
CHAPTER 6
ANNA AMBUSH
Monica’s mom drove us to the mall the next day after school. I didn’t talk about my keep-the-tree-or-get-a-pool problem. I had to wait for the right moment.
I wanted my friends to change their minds. But I didn’t want them to feel guilty about cutting down the old oak.
Guilt felt like being:
Sucked into a stinky swamp.
Swarmed by a million beetles.
Stuck in a deep dark pit.
“Where should we go first?” Monica asked.
“Let’s go to Music Central and listen to music,” Becca suggested.
We spent ten minutes listening to music. Monica bought a CD. “We can listen to it in the tree house sometime,” she said.
The right moment had arrived.
“Maybe not,” I said.
“Is your CD player broken?” Monica asked.
“No,” I said. “We won’t have a place to meet.”
“That’s right!” Monica exclaimed. “Bye-bye tree house, hello pool!”
“We’ll find another meeting place,” Becca said.
“Maybe one that’s better,” Monica added.
My no-guilt plan had backfired. Becca and Monica wouldn’t miss the tree house. They wanted a pool more.
“Let’s go to Flare,” Becca suggested. “We can start looking for bathing suits.”
Flare was the most popular store in the mall. They had the cutest clothes and the best sales. And they played cool music.
We walked up and down the aisles looking at everything. My mom called that browsing. I called it teenage torment. I didn’t have enough money to buy everything I wanted.
Even though I could spend money I earned however I felt like it, I didn’t want to blow it on clothes. I was saving up to buy a car the day I turned 16!
“I love this!” Monica said. She pulled a blue top off a rack. It had long sleeves and pink flowers on the bottom.
“That would look GREAT with jeans,” Becca said.
“Look at this bag!” I exclaimed, lifting it off the shelf. The bag was bright red. Red was my favorite color. I looked inside the bag. “It’s even got a cell phone pocket,” I told my friends.
“You don’t have a cell phone,” Monica reminded me.
A cell phone of my own was #1 on my wish list. But Dad said I couldn’t get one until I was 15. I put the red bag back.
Becca held up a fuzzy purple sweater. It had feathery purple fringe and orange pom-poms on the neckline. “This is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen,” she said.