Tiny House in the Trees

by Celia Bonaduce

  She carefully packed the tree house model in the box, stuffing clothes around the edges to keep it safe. Even with all the refinements and additional patios, the model was heavier than she’d anticipated. But she managed to get it into the car.

  She drove onto the lot before anyone else was there and headed to the big trees. Deer scattered as her car’s tires crunched up the gravel road.

  Sorry, Manny.

  She got out of the car, checked to make sure the pulley system was still sound, then attached the box. With all the physical labor she’d been doing the last few months, she knew she was strong enough to get the box up into the tree. As the box swung over the platform, Molly tied off the pulley, scrambled up the ladder, and hauled the box inside.

  She unpacked the box, then flipped it over. It seemed sturdy enough. She carefully settled the tree house model on it. The box was a little low, but it would do for now as a workstation. Molly looked around the lean-to. She’d left some white nylon cording up here. She found it tangled up in a corner, now a rather unattractive shade of dirt. She secured the model with the cording, running the nylon out from the tree house to various nails on the walls. She stood back to admire her work. The tree house, with its whimsically shaped rooms and extensions, which usually looked impressive in its own way, looked ridiculous tied up. The sight made Molly laugh.

  “I promise I’ll untie you when I’m up here,” Molly said. “But I can’t risk those damn raccoons knocking you over.”

  Molly went out on the platform and looked over the treetops. The beautiful evergreens of the farm stood silently in rows by type and height. Molly could see the firs, pines and spruces, all perfectly manicured, waiting quietly for the frantic activity that was now just a few weeks away.

  The farm’s trees stood in contrast with the deciduous trees, which were starting to lose their leaves. With the lush landscape of green thinning out, Molly could see much more of the vista. She was surprised she could make out Beamer’s on the other side of the river. It was just a nondescript building, but Charlie, the bright yellow air dancer, seemed to be waving at her.

  She looked down to see two deer heading onto the farm.

  She suddenly flashed on an idea.

  “I’ll be back later today,” Molly called to the tree house model before zipping down the ladder.

  She drove to the office, hurried inside and wrote a hasty note to Quinn:

  Q - Headed over to Beamer’s. – M.

  Chapter 28

  Molly pulled into the parking lot at Beamer’s. Marni was already there, letting the air out of the inflatables. Apparently the anniversary was over.

  “Hey Marni,” Molly said.

  “Hey there,” Marni said. “I almost didn’t recognize you without Quinn. You slumming it this morning?”

  “Pardon?” Molly asked. “You usually drop down out of the sky. And now here you are without the pilot or the helicopter.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Molly said.

  She understood the idea that Marni might be disappointed in a solo Molly. Quinn was definitely the star attraction.

  “Quinn might show up later. I needed to ask you something.”

  “I’m right here,” Marni said, straightening up. “Ask away.”

  “It’s kind of a long, crazy story.”

  “Come on in then,” Marni said. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

  * * * *

  Molly was just sipping her second cup of coffee when she heard Marni say, “Hey there, handsome.”

  Molly looked up. It was Quinn. She didn’t hear Old Paint land and looked out into the field where Quinn usually landed. The helicopter wasn’t there. Weird that Quinn had taken his truck. She smiled to herself. Quinn was going to be so excited when he heard her news.

  Quinn entered, looking grim. Molly felt herself tense slightly. Looked like Quinn had had another bad night—which seemed to be happening more and more lately.

  “Hey Quinn,” Molly said as he slid into the booth across from her. “Good morning.”

  “If you say so,” Quinn said, signaling Marni for coffee.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why I took off without you this morning,” Molly said, trying to keep the glee out of her voice.

  Quinn looked up, startled.

  “Uh, no, actually,” he said, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. “I didn’t really think about it. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  It occurred to Molly that Bale would have wondered.

  Don’t compare him to Bale.

  Why not compare him to Bale? a little voice inside her said.

  Because Bale is with Violet. You took him for granted, and now he’s got someone who sees how special he is.

  Molly looked back at Quinn. He did look miserably unhappy. She tried to soften her attitude. After all, she wasn’t a starry-eyed teenager. She never thought Quinn was perfect.

  Yes, you did.

  “What’s on your mind?” Molly asked at the same time Quinn said, “I’ll bite… Why did you take off without me?”

  They sat in silence, looking at each other. Quinn took a sip of coffee, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

  “Ladies first,” he said.

  “I have a solution to the deer problem,” she said, trying to contain her excitement.

  She waited for Quinn to react, but he just sat with his eyes closed.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “Marni says I can borrow Charlie, Lucy, and Seymour. You know, the air dancers. We can put them up in the rows where the deer are causing the most damage. The dancers have their own batteries and fans, and I was thinking if we used motion sensors, then we could…”

  “Don’t care,” Quinn said through closed eyes.

  Molly stopped mid-sentence. Could she have heard him correctly?

  “Excuse me?” Molly asked.

  “I said I don’t care,” Quinn said, sitting up and opening his eyes. “Just sold the tree farm. Deer and everything else are no longer my problem.”

  Quinn reached in his pocket for his wallet. Molly knew this was his signal they were leaving.

  “Back up, back up,” Molly said.

  She put her hand on his arm. He sat back down. The thought crossed her mind that the electricity she always felt when she touched him was less intense. Not gone, but not the high voltage jolt she used to experience.

  “What?” Quinn glowered.

  “What do you mean, you sold the farm?”

  “Just what it sounds like. I sold the farm.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “Gambling?” Molly asked, barely breathing.

  “You don’t have to whisper.” Quinn leaned forward and whispered harshly, “Everybody in this town knows I gamble.”

  “I had no idea things had gotten so…”

  “Shitty?” Quinn finished the sentence for her. “Well, they have. Things have gotten really, really shitty.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Easy come, easy go, you know. I won the farm and the helicopter in a game. It was never my passion or anything.”

  “Did you lose Old Paint, too?”

  “I didn’t lose the farm or the helicopter,” Quinn said testily. “Give me some credit.”

  I’m trying. You don’t know how hard I’m trying.

  “I sold the farm and the helicopter goes with it,” Quinn said.

  “But you love Old Paint.”

  “Look, Molly,” Quinn said. “Old Paint is just a machine…a thing. You can’t love a thing.”

  “No, but you’re a pilot. You can be proud of yourself and your ability when it comes to a thing. You worked hard for the achievement. I mean, I’ve worked hard on my master’s and I…”

  “Oh, yes, you and your master’s.”

  Molly felt as
if she’d been slapped.

  “What about me and my master’s?”

  “You and Manny, with your tree houses and Manny’s… What’s his deal again? Oh yes, frickin’ bagpipes. Some of us have to be realistic. And it’s clearly not going to be anybody who works for me at the Christmas tree farm. ”

  “Used to work for you,” Molly said.

  She stood up shakily. She saw her words:

  Inspired

  Hopeful

  Ready

  She wanted to give them to Quinn. He was so bitter. She wanted to tell him there were dreams to follow, and you were a better person, a stronger person, a happier person if you worked for that dream.

  But she knew someone had to learn that for him or herself. Even with all the hard times, Molly never gave up.

  She wondered what she could say to Quinn.

  “I suppose you’re worried about your job,” Quinn said.

  “Actually, I hadn’t gotten that far,” Molly said.

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure the new owner will hire you.”

  “That’s good to hear, but how are you so sure?”

  “He’s an old friend of yours.”

  It suddenly hit Molly.

  The new owner must be Bale! He was talking about needing more space. There was plenty of room at the farm to expand the tiny house business and still keep the farm going. And she could help him with the tree farm side of things. She knew a lot about evergreens now.

  And Bale would be interested in the air dancers.

  She knew she’d lost any opportunity to have Bale see her as anything but a slightly flaky, slightly larcenous sidekick, but he deserved her loyalty.

  She’d wasted so much time on Quinn.

  The familiar roar of Old Paint pierced the deadly quiet of their conversation. Molly looked out the window, but Quinn just contemplated his coffee cup. Marni opened the front door and peered into the sky, then back at Quinn.

  “Somebody took off with your helicopter,” Marni said.

  “That’s the new owner, getting the hang of things.”

  Molly stared at Quinn. She was pretty sure Bale didn’t know how to fly a helicopter. But if this morning was any indication, it was that life was full of surprises.

  “No way,” Marni’s face split into a grin. “The old devil is back, is he?”

  Quinn shrugged.

  “He’s back to give me competition again, is he?” Marni asked.

  “Not really,” Quinn said, a little of his flirtatiousness struggling to break free from the hangover. “I’m your new competition. I might as well give slinging hash a shot—I’ve tried everything else.”

  “I’ve got all Crabby’s customers now,” Marni said. “I’ll bury you in a month.”

  “You won’t be the first,” Quinn said miserably.

  “Are you changing the name to Quinn’s—or still gonna keep it ‘Crabby’s?’” Marni asked.

  “Marni, give me a break,” Quinn said, squeezing his temples. “I haven’t gotten that far.”

  What was going on? Quinn bought Crabby’s? Bale could fly a helicopter? Marni had a competitive streak?

  Was Molly still asleep and this was all a dream?

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Molly said. “You bought Crabby’s?”

  “Yeah,” Quinn said. “With the profits from the sale of the farm.”

  Molly listened to the droning sounds of Old Paint in the sky.

  Crabby!

  Crabby could fly a helicopter.

  “Is Crabby the new owner of the farm?” Molly asked in a whisper.

  “Of course,” Quinn said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Who else would take on such a losing proposition?”

  Molly thought “Anybody with vision”—but she didn’t say it. It occurred to her with some irony that Quinn now was the new owner of her “storage unit” in the back of the restaurant.

  She better not piss him off. She suspected he wasn’t going to be as nice as Bale was about the tiny house lot break-in.

  “So, he’s just up there, getting the hang of Old Paint?” Marni said, squinting into the sky.

  “No,” Quinn said. “When we were walking the farm, he said the big trees were getting tangled in the power lines. He’s up there topping the largest trees.”

  Molly’s heart beat wildly in her chest.

  “I’ve got to go,” Molly called as she jumped out of her seat.

  Her hands shook violently as she tried to jam the key into the ignition. She needed to get back to the tree fort, which was in the largest of the big trees. She tried to keep Old Paint in sight from the road, trying to see if Crabby had the tree topping mechanism attached to the helicopter’s undercarriage. But the helicopter was still too far away.

  As she sped toward the farm, she tried to remember all she knew about tree topping. It was a very controversial procedure. It could stunt the growth of trees and leave them open to disease but was also a quick way to clear power lines tangled in branches, which caused a fire hazard. Molly wished she knew more. All she did know for sure was if she could see a chain hanging from the undercarriage of Old Paint with a large saw in the middle, then Crabby meant business.

  The procedure shook the trees violently. Molly was pretty sure the rickety lean-to and platform would not be able to withstand the impact. It would be the end of her thesis.

  She was close enough now to see the helicopter and the chain swinging menacingly in the wind.

  She had to get to her tree before Crabby did.

  She drove as if her life—and her dreams—depended on it.

  Molly almost lost control of the car as she drove frantically toward the big trees. Crabby was directly overhead. She parked right below the tree fort. If Crabby hadn’t noticed the car as she drove up, she was now safely out of view. She got out of the car and raced to the tree. She stopped dead in her tracks. Bale was coming down the ladder.

  At first she thought he’d somehow known to save her tree-house model. But he was empty handed. He almost ran into her as he turned around.

  “Molly!” he yelled, trying to be heard over the roar of the helicopter. “What are you doing here? Something’s going on—and it looks dangerous.”

  “I can’t explain now,” Molly said, pushing past him.

  She didn’t have time to ask what he was doing here or to explain the finer points of tree topping. She needed to get up to the platform. She started up the ladder, but suddenly found herself stuck. Her foot wouldn’t move. She looked down. Bale had her by the ankle.

  “Get down,” Bale said, as the tree shook. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Let go of me,” Molly said, trying to kick him away.

  He held tight. “You can’t go up there,” Bale said again.

  The tree shook. Violently.

  Molly heard the sounds of splintering wood. Bale swung onto the ladder step with her and tried to shield her from the falling debris. She held on to the ladder with one hand and pushed at Bale with the other.

  Then she saw it. Her magnificent thesis, her years of hard work, her labor of love and hate, falling tree-limbs-first, through the air, toward the ground.

  She pushed past Bale and took a leap of faith into the air.

  Chapter 29

  Molly wondered if she were dreaming. She could feel her mother’s hand stroking her forehead. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she heard her father crooning Tura Lura Lura.

  Maybe I’m not dreaming. Maybe I’m dead.

  She heard Bale but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  She slept.

  Chapter 30

  “She’s waking up,” Molly heard someone say.

  She wondered who was waking up.

  “Molly?” Bale’s voice penetrated the fog. “Molly? Can you hear me?”
>
  Of course she could hear him. He was talking to her. What kind of question was that?

  But she couldn’t make her mouth say the words. She tried to go back to sleep.

  “Molly?” Bale persisted. “Molly?”

  Molly willed herself to open her eyes, if only to shut him up. It took her a moment to focus. Bale was standing over her. She remembered now. She had fallen out of the tree, chasing…chasing…

  The pain was searing as she remembered her model crashing to the ground. The next thing she remembered was Bale on the ground beside her. She tried to capture the details. She’d jumped. Had he jumped after her? She closed her eyes again, but the memories were piecing themselves together against her will. Bale was on his knees, gently stroking her cheek, while she lay like a ragdoll on the ground. Quinn was there, and so was Manny. At some point, Crabby had joined them. Everything was quiet. The tree wasn’t shaking anymore. But she hadn’t gotten to the tree fort in time. Pieces of Molly’s tree house model and remnants of her tree fort lay scattered around her.

  She could hear herself whimper.

  “Stay with me, Molly,” Bale’s voice was strong.

  She opened her eyes again.

  She looked around. She wasn’t at the tree farm. She was in the hospital.

  “What?” Molly croaked.

  “Don’t talk now,” Bale said. “Just get better. Please. Just. Get. Better.”

  “Well,” Molly whispered, “when you put it like that…”

  Bale leaned over her and kissed her forehead. His right arm was in a sling.

  “What happened to you?” she asked. She remembered him on the ground beside her. “Did I do that?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Bale said. “I take full responsibility for my part in this fiasco.”

  “My thesis,” Molly said.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Bale said. “Everything is going to be fine. Just rest.”

  * * * *

  Molly hadn’t been dreaming. Her mother was there. So was her brother. She felt a stab when she realized they were supposed to be coming for her graduation but had used their tickets to come visit her in the hospital instead.