She listened to her messages. “Ten days” was the message left by the sheriff’s office regarding how long the crime scene tape would stay up. Maybelline was tempted to call back and ask if they could just leave it up permanently, get some armed guards? He would “greatly appreciate it” if she would “diligently discourage Oak and his wife, girlfriend, whatever, from going back up into the tree” and if they did, said arresting them “was not out of the question”. “You do understand Mrs Emmons that this means we put them in jail for some period of time if this little scenario gets repeated again.”
Oak reported that he and and Joni were back in Berkeley, making progress with their research. Joni had made contact with Roberta Robsen. Oak stated that as soon as the tape came down, they were going back up. No they were not. She would have to deal with their stubbornness. Neither he nor Joni were going back up, period. Maybe she could employ the services of a private security company? “Oh my God,” she said out loud.
Message three was from Tamara reporting that everything was settling out, the owner of their building was going after whoever shot the building but he wasn’t blaming Oak, her, the tree. “Who blames a tree for anything anyway? It’s a tree.” This made Maybelline laugh, something she dearly needed to do.
Still restless, aware that things didn’t feel quite “normal” (yet?), she bent over to pick up a rubber band. Fiddling with it while looking out her front window, she saw her handsome pilot neighbor, Andy, standing in his front yard with another far-too handsome man. The far-too handsome man playfully pushed Andy then Andy pushed him back then they hugged. Embarrassed, she turned away, not totally sure why she should be embarrassed. There was a knock on the door. It was Andy and the other man. They wanted her to come over for dinner. Then for the first time since living next to him (what was it, six, seven years now?), he introduced her to “Tim”, his boyfriend, also a commercial airline pilot. This confirmed it—there would be no returning to her pre-tree period of life. This time when Andy asked her how she was doing, she answered, “you’ll likely never believe it but I will tell you over dinner. I’ll bring the wine. We’ll need it.” She would tell him the truth, the truth rising to the surface for both of them.
They had dinner outside on Andy’s backyard patio, Boeing thrilled with the company, winding around their legs. Though Maybelline could tell Andy was a bit stunned with the current state of her life, even tilting his head to the side as if that would help him comprehend this new old woman, once so typical, boring even, this was met by her tilting her head curiously at him. After so many years…both of them disclosing, opening up, becoming friends, laughing. He assured her he would do whatever he could to help when she was in Santa Rosa on “her quest”; watch her place, get the house sitter. Not to worry. They supported her “1000%”. They toasted multiple times to Millibelle and Millicent, Oak and Joni, the Acorn Gang, and to one another, newly freed.
Chapter 16
The old days were gone. She could not stop thinking about Millibelle. Tamara called and reported there were people investigating, swarming all over the lot, inside their apartment, even on ladders inspecting the bullet holes. Maybelline began steeling herself for the expiration date, when the tape would come down and she would head back up. They had not won—yet. She got things in order; sorted through papers, magazines, books, interested in the fact that some books she vowed she would never get rid of she now tossed in a giveaway box. She washed the windows, went through her kitchen cabinets, her closets, even deciding to part with some of Jay’s clothes and shoes. While going through her closet, she pulled the wig off the shelf, the one she bought when they found the lump in her breast, oh she of little faith, immediately assuming the worst. Jay said it looked almost exactly like her hair. She held it in her hand. Why this one? Why didn’t she also buy one with red, maybe green hair? Long black hair? Frizzy? Braided? How typical of her, she thought, to go out and buy a wig like her own hair; even in the face of her own mortality, she would keep things ‘normal’. Who was that woman? She threw it on the bed. Oak called to remind her there were only a few days left and he and Joni were leaving soon. She didn’t tell him what the sheriff said. She would tell them in person. Could she do it, handle it if they defied her, have them arrested? She didn’t know. Who knew the effect the whole thing was having on Tank at this point. How wonderful, she thought, if he was giving up, but she knew he wasn’t—he wasn’t that sort of man.
Chapter 17
“You WILL be arrested.”
“How are they going to get us down? And if they are arresting us, Tank isn’t—”
“Oak, Michael, you two were almost murdered—”
“Bullshit. They were just—”
“LISTEN TO ME,” Maybelline drilled. “I cannot be responsible for you two getting hurt, or worse, murdered, someone else’s children.”
“Oh my God,” Joni winced. “We could have been killed in a god-damned car wreck on the way here…far more likely.”
“Your parents have to call me then, tell me it’s okay.”
“What?” Joni snipped. “We’re not ten year old’s.”
While Joni and Maybelline argued back and forth, Oak continued to pace around the hotel room not touching any of the food Maybelline had bought but availing himself of two of the beers. Too busy arguing, neither Joni nor Maybelline noticed when Oak wandered into a small side room that was part dressing room, part closet. He stood there for a minute, his eyes falling on something hairy on top of the clothes in Maybelline’s open suitcase—her wig. He picked it up. Looking around, his eyes fell on a skirt and sweater hanging in the closet. Donning the entire ensemble, he walked out into the room.
“What the fuck Oak?” Joni asked, then quickly figuring it out, she let out a laugh. He stood next to Maybelline.
“Oh my God.” Joni led them to the full length mirrors on the closet doors. They looked almost exactly alike.
“We can’t climb the tree anymore, Mom, but you can,” Oak said with a shit-eating grin.
“Is this why you brought it, the wig?” Joni asked Maybelline.
“No,” Maybelline said, momentarily speechless. Staring at Oak, she explained, “I bought it years ago when I thought I might have cancer. I didn’t, I mean, have cancer. I was sorting through clothes, grabbed a few things I threw into my suitcase…it was in with what I grabbed.”
“How fortuitous,” Oak commented, still wearing his grin.
Maybelline paused, waiting for Oak to pull the outfit off and laugh. He didn’t.
“What’s going on Oak?”
“Really? Like you can’t figure it out?” Joni admonished, as if a young man dressing up like an older woman he claims is his mother in order to live in a tree all the while running the risk of getting shot is the most normal thing in the world. How could Maybelline be so stupid?
“Say something,” Joni demanded of Maybelline.
“I just did,” she replied. “I just did,” Oak mimicked. “Say something else,” Joni demanded of Maybelline.
“Is there a possibility you’re going off the deep end?” Maybelline asked.
“Is there a possibility you’re going off the deep end?” Oak mimicked again.
“Damn,” Joni said. “You sound just like her. You are her. How old were you when you lived here Mrs. Emmons? When you were 31, you were still here, right?”
“When I was 31? Yes, we were still here then.”
“Weird. Oak is 31,” Joni nodded, “now dressed like you to save the tree.”
They stared at one another in silence because this is all they could do.
“The circle completing…?” Oak offered.
“Not exactly one I would have expected,” Maybelline chuckled. They got quiet again. “I have a question,” Maybelline stated after a few minutes. “Why wouldn’t they arrest me, I mean you, I mean me, as much as they would arrest you?”
“With all due respect—“little old lady climbs tree to stop its destruction�
��. Far more compelling than a hippie tree hugger like me and you own it, the land and the tree—you’re allowed, in other words, because it’s all legally yours, in your name,” Oak explained.
“The press will go mad,” Joni added, “and we need a deflection, distraction right now. Roberta may have something definitive. She’s almost done tracing the chain of title. This could be done soon. In the meantime, we need to get back up there.”
“Oak, you are someone else’s son, child. I can’t—”
“No one is going to shoot you!” Oak argued passionately. “This is the point. We turn the tables completely. It’ll blow their minds.”
“We just need a few more days,” Joni urged. “I agree with Oak. Nobody is going to shoot you, or an excellent facsimile thereof…Once the news is out that “the old lady’s in the tree”, Joni said kindly employing air quotes, “people will show up. It will be nuts and buy us, me, time.”
“This is quite insane,” Maybelline said sitting down on the bed. Oak sat down in one of the two armchairs, Joni sat down in the other. They stared at one another for a few minutes. The logistics of the plan hitting them at the same time, Maybelline verbalized what they were all thinking.
“Then I will have to go home, disappear…because I’m up a tree?” she asked.
“No. You can’t. You absolutely can’t. They’ll look for you there,” Oak insisted.
“Well I—”
“Does she need a disguise now?” Joni scrunched her face up at Oak. “Got a wig anybody?”
Maybelline let out a completely uncharacteristic howl and slammed herself face down into the pillow. Oak and Joni looked at one another.
“Are you all right Mom?” Oak asked. When she turned her head to look at him only to see him in her clothes and wig, she let out another howl and smashed her face into the crook of her arm.
“I’ll take her to my mom’s,” Joni suggested then retracted just as Oak was declaring it a terrible idea.
“They know where our parents live. Bad idea.”
“Pick a town a few hours away, maybe one that Amtrak serves, maybe a place you have always wanted to see. We’ll get you a wig, fix you up a bit, then put you on the train.”
“Canyoumamee20yearsyounger’ “? Maybelline mumbled into her arm.
“What?” Joni asked.
“You’re already beautiful Mom,” Oak answered.
“What did she say?”
“Can we make her 20 years younger?” Oak translated.
“How did you—?” Joni shook her head. “Never mind. She’s ‘your mother’. You two have your own language.”
While Maybelline was hiding in the crook of her arm, she heard Oak mumbling to himself about his clothing options as he fingered through her suitcase. This only made her wince more.
“Hmm, this is nice,” he said, holding up a T-shirt with a hummingbird on it. Lifting her head to see what he was talking about, she jammed her head back into her arm and mumbled, “thatsoneofmyfavorites’ “.
“Oak. Stop it,” Joni scolded. “Get out of her suitcase. We’ll go to a thrift store today and buy you some Maybelline-appropriate clothes to wear. I’ll be your cover. I’ll pick them out and we can both go into the dressing room. We’ll need to buy a wig, some clothes for her too,” Joni planned.
(There would be one glitch when a woman would accidentally open the door of the thrift store dressing room and see Oak wearing a breezy summer outfit of women’s green stretch capris tastefully matched to a well-tailored bow-collared pink and green flowered blouse.)
“You freaking out Mom?” Oak asked as he seated himself next to her on the bed.
“Yes, she’s freaking out,” Joni answered, annoyed. “She needs some space from us, this.” Leaning down, Joni informed Maybelline they were leaving and everything would be okay. She also mentioned it would probably be best if she didn’t leave the hotel all day. At that, Oak poured Maybelline a glass of wine and left it on the nightstand by her head.
“Lemmegiveyousomemoney’,” Maybelline mumbled into her arm.
“We have money,” Oak responded. “We’ll see you later.” He kissed the back of her graying head and they quietly left.
Despite it being only around 11, Maybelline performed her duty and drank her glass of wine. After decommissioning all the phones in her room, she crawled back into bed. She woke to knocking or more accurately, Oak and Joni arguing. Glancing at the clock radio, she had slept for a solid two hours. She needed it. Sighing, with more of an aim to stop their arguing then to face the insanity she figured was coming, she opened the door. They both tumbled in, a mess of words. Oak was “difficult” according to Joni, getting caught in women’s clothing when a woman accidentally opened the dressing room door.
Rubbing her temples, Maybelline asked them if they had any idea how ridiculous the whole thing was starting to get, then out of nowhere, she laughed, then she laughed again. Not amused, Joni unloaded their quarry on to the bed. Oak had a lovely variety of feminine articles of clothing to choose from: blouses, polos, T-shirts, shorts, skirts, jeans. “I can mix and match,” he exclaimed with somewhat disturbing delight while Joni tossed out a few pair of sunglasses and four wigs—she and Oak would take whichever ones Maybelline didn’t (could come in handy in the future). Joni handed Maybelline a blonde medium-length page-boy with day-glo pink and green splotches all over it.
“It’s perfect because somebody tried to make it look cool but it looks kind of stupid, amateurish, which is why it’s perfect for you. Nobody would ever try to look like this on purpose.” Handing Maybelline some Spandex bike pants, she said they would ‘go great’ with the wig. “You wear them but you don’t even own a bike. You never use them for actual bike riding and here is what caps it off!” she said with obvious pride, “this Guns and Roses T-shirt. Now all you need is a pack of cigs. I swear to God if you wear this outfit, NO ONE will notice you. You’ll blend right in.”
“What in God’s name am I blending into?”
“She’s not wearing that, I told you,” Oak snarled, grabbing the wig out of Maybelline’s hands and slamming it into the trash can. “Nobody would wear it.”
“Do I have a say in any of this?” Maybelline asked, looking at the other wigs. She picked up a black-haired wig with longer hair and bangs. She put it on.
“A wine tour in Napa—the wine train.” Oak declared. “It could be very fun and you can dress whatever the hell way you want, as long as you wear one of these stupid wigs, keep some sunglasses on. Ever been?”
Within seconds they were Googling wine tours. Maybelline liked the idea, heartened that Joni seemed very confident the whole thing would be over in a couple of days anyway. Their historian was honing in…
Chapter 18
Maybelline’s car would be strategically parked on the street, as near to the tree as possible. Their plan was to install Oak-Maybelline, or “Oakelline” as Oak took to calling himself/herself, into the tree around 2 a.m. to minimize the risk of being seen. Following this, she and Joni would ‘steal off into the night’. Joni would transport Maybelline to her tour departure point then take the van back to Berkeley. Luckily, the platform was still in the tree (the investigator wanted to check it for bullet holes. There were none). Because Joni and Oak had removed everything but the platform after the shooting, all of the supplies would need to be moved back into the tree; they figured they could get all of it organized within an hour if they cranked on it. Maybelline tried to block-out the idea she was part of some insane scheme, after all, Oak and Joni were professionals, and it was only for a couple more days.
Oak said he felt “itchy weird”, had a feeling something was going on at the tree so they left, told Maybelline to join them later. After taking a shower, putting on one of Oakelline’s new used blouses (to set the stage—Oakelline would wear it next), she headed to the store. When she arrived at the tree, she saw a couple county sheriffs standing at the base, surrounded by a group of people. Something was
going on. Oak’s intuition was right again. Walking to the tree, she gasped. Tamara was wiping tears off her cheeks. The sheriffs stood staring, one scratching his chin. In the tree above her sat the Acorn Gang and a bunch of adults and kids she didn’t recognize. Tamara’s beloved bough, the one she had been climbing nearly all her 12 years, the one she hung her long arms down to tickle the top of her Pa Pa’s hair, had been amputated. Where once there was a strong sinuous branch of nearly 40 feet, curved such that her body fit comfortably into it, now there was only about five feet marked by a clean flat cut. Oak felt as if every corpuscle of blood in his body was pulsing into his head all at once. Enraged, he turned to the sheriff.
“WHAT THE FUCK? You said nothing would happen.”
“Don’t you get in my face about this, you—I could have had you arrested ten times over but I didn’t.” When a television camera tried to insert itself into this exchange, Oak grabbed the lens of the camera and shoved it back.
“No Oak, we can use—” Joni started to say. “NOT RIGHT NOW,” he blared back into her face. Turning to the sheriff, he continued. “You have no legal right to arrest me and you know it. This is our tree and I have every right to be in it.”
Tamara then bounded up into the tree, joining the others. “We’re not coming down,” she announced.
“Oh yes you are!” came the response from a woman that could only be Tamara’s mother per how similar they looked.
“They’ll be down by dark, guaranteed. I’m not the only parent that will see to it though Bo Jo doesn’t really have any parents aside from us,” she replied.
“You’re Tamara and Terrence’s mother,” Maybelline said staring at her.
“Yes, in the flesh, or what’s left of it after raising two kids by myself.”
Maybelline apologized, demurred, “I’m Maybelline Emmons, the—”
“I know who you are,” she said smiling.
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