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My heart was crazy with panic。 I didn't know what to do！ I couldn't leave and let them cut
down the tree！ I cried； “You can't cut it down！ You just
can't！”
One of the men shook his head and said； “I am this close to calling the police。 You are
trespassing and obstructing progress on a contracted job。
Now are you going to e down or are we going to cut you down？”
The bus was three blocks away。 I'd never missed school for any reason other than legitimate
illness； but I knew in my heart that I was going to
miss my ride。 “You're going to have to cut me down！” I yelled。 Then I had an idea。 They'd
never cut it down if all of us were in the tree。 They'd have to
listen！ “Hey； guys！” I called to my classmates。 “Get up here with me！ They can't cut it down if
we're all up here！ Marcia！ Tony！ Bryce！ C'mon； you
guys； don't let them do this！”
They just stood there； staring up at me。
I could see the bus； one block away。 “e on； you guys！ You don't have to e up this
high。 Just a little ways。 Please！”
The bus blasted up and pulled to the curb in front of the trucks； and when the doors folded
open； one by one my classmates climbed on board。
What happened after that is a bit of a blur。 I remember the neighbors gathering； and the
police with megaphones。 I remember the fire brigade；
……… Page 20………
and some guy saying it was his blasted tree and I'd darn well better get out of it。
Somebody tracked down my mother； who cried and pleaded and acted not at all the way a
sensible mother should； but I was not ing down。 I
was not ing down。
Then my father came racing up。 He jumped out of his pickup truck； and after talking with my
mother for a few minutes； he got the guy in the cherry
picker to give him a lift up to where I was。 After that it was all over。 I started crying and tried
to get him to look out over the rooftops； but he wouldn't。
He said that no view was worth his little girl's safety。
He got me down and he took me home； only I couldn't stay there。 I couldn't stand the sound
of chain saws in the distance。
So Dad took me with him to work； and while he put up a block wall； I sat in his truck and cried。
I must've cried for two weeks straight。 Oh； sure； I went to school and I functioned the best I
could； but I didn't go there on the bus。 I started riding
my bike instead； taking the long way so I wouldn't have to go up to Collier Street。 Up to a pile
of sawdust that used to be the earth's most
magnificent sycamore tree。
Then one evening when I was locked up in my room； my father came in with something
under a towel。 I could tell it was a painting because that's
how he transports the important ones when he shows them in the park。 He sat down； resting
the painting on the floor in front of him。 “I always liked
that tree of yours；” he said。 “Even before you told me about it。”
“Oh； Dad； it's okay。 I'll get over it。”
“No； Julianna。 No； you won't。”
I started crying。 “It was just a tree…。”
“I never want you to convince yourself of that。 You and I both know it isn't true。”
“But Dad…”
“Bear with me a minute； would you？” He took a deep breath。 “I want the spirit of that tree to
be with you always。 I want you to remember how you
felt when you were up there。” He hesitated a moment； then handed me the painting。 “So I
made this for you。”
I pulled off the towel； and there was my tree。 My beautiful； majestic sycamore tree。 Through
the branches he'd painted the fire of sunrise； and it
seemed to me I could feel the wind。 And way up in the tree was a tiny girl looking off into the
distance； her cheeks flushed with wind。 With joy。 With
magic。
“Don't cry； Julianna。 I want it to help you； not hurt you。” I wiped the tears from my cheeks and
gave a mighty sniff。 “Thank you； Daddy；” I choked out。
“Thank you。”
I hung the painting across the room from my bed。 It's the first thing I see every morning and
the last thing I see every night。 And now that I can look
at it without crying； I see more than the tree and what being up in its branches meant to me。
I see the day that my view of things around me started changing。
Brawk…Brawk…Brawk！
Eggs scare me。 Chickens； too。 And buddy； you can laugh at that all you want； but I'm being
dead serious here。
It started in the sixth grade with eggs。
And a snake。
And the Baker brothers。
The Baker brothers' names are Matt and Mike； but even now I can't tell you which one's
which。 You never see one without the other。 And even
though they're not twins； they do look and sound pretty much the same； and they're both in
Lyta's class； so maybe one of them got held back。
……… Page 21………
Although I can't exactly see a teacher voluntarily having either of those maniacs two years in
a row。
Regardless； Matt and Mike are the ones who taught me that snakes eat eggs。 And when I
say they eat eggs； I'm talking they eat them raw and
shell…on whole。
I probably would've gone my entire life without this little bit of reptilian trivia if it hadn't been
for Lyta。 Lyta had this major…league thing for
Skyler Brown； who lives about three blocks down； and every chance she got； she went down
there to hang out while he practiced the drums。 Well；
boom…boom…whap； what did I care； right？ But then Skyler and Juli's brothers formed a band；
which they named Mystery Pisser。
When my mom heard about it； she pletely wigged out。 “What kind of parents would allow
their children to be in a band named Mystery
Pisser？ It's vile。 It's disgusting！”
“That's the whole point； Mom；” Lyta tried to explain。 “It doesn't mean anything。 It's just to
get a rise out of old people。”
“Are you calling me old； young lady？ Because it's certainly getting a rise out of me！”
Lyta just shrugged； implying that my mom could draw her own conclusion。
“Go！ Go to your room；” my mother snapped。
“For what？” Lyta snapped back。 “I didn't say a thing！”
“You know perfectly well what for。 Now you go in there and adjust your attitude； young lady！”
So Lyta got another one of her teenage time…outs； and after that any time Lyta was two
minutes late ing home for dinner； my mother
would messenger me down to Skyler's house to drag her home。 It might have been
embarrassing for Lyta； but it was worse for me。 I was still in
elementary school； and the Mystery Pisser guys were in high school。 They were ripe and
ragged； raging power chords through the neighborhood；
while I looked like I'd just gotten back from Sunday school。
I'd get so nervous going down there that my voice would squeak when I'd tell Lyta it was
time for dinner。 It literally squeaked。 But after a while
the band dropped Mystery from their name； and Pisser and its entourage got used to me
showing up。 And instead of glaring at me； they started
saying stuff like； “Hey； baby brother； e on in！” “Hey； Brycie boy； wanna jam？”
This； then； is how I wound up in Skyler Brown's garage； surrounded by high school kids；
watching a boa constrictor swallow eggs。 Since I'd
already seen it down a rat in the Baker brothers' bedroom； Pisser had lost at least some of
the element of surprise。 Plus； I picked up on the fact that
they'd been saving this little show to freak me out； and I really didn't want to give them the
satisfaction。
This wasn't easy； though； because watching a snake swallow an egg is actually much
creepier than you might think。 The boa opened its mouth to
an enormous size； then just took the egg in and glub！ We could see it roll down its throat。
But that wasn't all。 After the snake had glubbed down three eggs； Matt…or…Mike said； “So；
Brycie boy； how's he gonna digest those？”
I shrugged and tried not to squeak when I answered； “Stomach acid？”
He shook his head and pretended to confide； “He needs a tree。 Or a leg。” He grinned at m