Trouble in the Trees (5 page)
“But what about the bylaw? Can it be overturned?” I wasn't feeling nervous anymore. Not at all. Just desperate for the council to see things my way.
“As I said before, the bylaw was put in place because the council thinks that tree climbing is putting the children of Cedar Grove at risk. We chose not to delay the decision until the Annual General Meeting because we're worried that someone will get hurt trying to climb as high and as far as you do. You do not set the best example, Brianna.” Ms. Matheson stopped suddenly and glanced at the other council members. Then she continued, “There will be further discussion based on your input. We will let you know when a decision has been made.”
I didn't say anything as I stood up to leave. I heard mumbling around the table about the AGM and ratification, but I was too upset to really listen.
You do not set the best example, Brianna
. Ms. Matheson's words turned my desperation into a pot of anger that was dangerously close to boiling over.
It wasn't fair. Kids have to put up with too many rules. I was sick of the Cedar Grove Neighborhood Council and their stupid bylaws.
A couple of days after the meeting, I came home from school to find Tyler and Michael playing basketball in front of Tyler's garage. I tried to walk by quickly, but there was really no way to avoid them. I couldn't reach the front door of my house without walking right under their net.
As soon as he saw me, Tyler said, “Did you hear the news, Bree?” He had a big smirk on his face.
“They're finally going to fumigate your townhouse? To get rid of the big creepy bug that's pestering the good people of Cedar Grove?”
“Funny.” Tyler wasn't laughing, but I heard Michael chuckle. “Your meeting with the council was a waste of time, Bree. They're not changing the tree-climbing bylaw.”
“What? How do you know?” I felt my cheeks flush with anger.
“I've got my sources,” Tyler said smugly.
“Sorry, Bree,” said a voice behind me. I turned and saw Ethan sitting on his front steps. He was still on the sidelines. I looked at his hurt elbow, even though I knew there was nothing to see.
“It's true?” I asked him.
“Mom said that the council took your arguments into consideration, but the interim bylaw remains in effect.”
“Interim?” I couldn't understand why everyone kept using that word. Wasn't a bylaw just a bylaw?
“It has be called an interim bylaw until it gets voted on and passed at the AGM.”
“Did your mom tell you why they couldn't just overturn it?”
“She wouldn't go into detail, but I think there might be legal issues,” Ethan said.
“Who cares about legal issues? We're kids. We should be able to climb trees!” I snapped.
“The council has to care about legal issues and they still think tree climbing is dangerous.”
“But it's not!”
I had been thinking a lot about safety since my presentation. I knew I hadn't done a good job convincing the council that tree climbing was safe. I guess Ethan's injury and the stuff I'd found on the Internet had momentarily given me some doubts.
“Tree climbing is no more dangerous than basketball,” I said, pointing at the net. “Any sport is dangerous if you don't do it properly.”
I was certain of my argument now, but unfortunately, I was using it on Ethan, who was only trying to be helpful. I was just so mad at myself for not making a stronger case to the Neighborhood Council.
Tyler and Michael were staring at me. “It doesn't really matter whether it's dangerous or not,” Tyler said calmly. “Point is, there will never be tree climbing in Cedar Grove again. And it doesn't matter what you do. Give it up, Bree. You're not the boss around here.”
“Neither are you!” I stared back at Tyler and narrowed my eyes. “And this means you can't climb either.”
“So what?” Tyler shrugged and took a shot at the net. The basketball swished through the hoop. “There are other things to do.”
“But you can't climb trees,” I repeated.
“The monkey bars at the playground are pretty good,” Michael said.
“But that's not good enough for little Brianna,” Tyler said in a silly crybaby voice.
“You're just jealous because you're not as good a climber as me!” I spit the words at him. I could feel the back of my throat start to burn and I bit my cheeks to hold back the tears.
“Me? Jealous of you? Before the council destroyed the jungle gym, I beat you in every climbing competition we ever had.”
“You've never beat me up a tree!” I shot back.
I saw him wince briefly. Then he wound up and fired at me again. “I certainly beat you on the pitcher's mound.”
It was my turn to wince. The competition between Tyler and me started in the spring of grade four when we'd both tried out to pitch for the Bulldogs, our local Little League baseball team. We were pretty evenly matched back then, so it took the Bulldogs' coach all preseason to select the starting pitcher. Losing out to Tyler hadn't bothered me much back then. I was just happy to be part of the team. But Tyler was upset even though he'd won. Dad said it was because a girl who was almost a full year younger than him had come so close to stealing his position. All I know is that the rivalry between us had been fierce ever since.
“Why do you like climbing trees so much anyway, Bree?” Ethan asked, probably hoping to end the fight between Tyler and me. Everyone knows Ethan is a kid who doesn't like conflict.
I took a few breaths to calm myself down. Crying would be bad. “It's fun,” I said as I looked up, “and it makes me feel free.” As much as I liked playing with all the other kids in Cedar Grove, sometimes I liked to get away from them too. Up in the trees I could be alone. In my own little world.
“Well, say goodbye to freedom, Bree,” Tyler said, snapping me back to reality.
“Come on, Tyler,” Michael said, bouncing the basketball. “Let's finish this game.”
Michael isn't sensitive like Ethan. But I noticed that he sometimes got caught between pleasing Tyler and saying what he really wanted to say. Honestly, I wondered why Michael put up with Tyler at all.
Tyler turned toward the net and took a pass from Michael. I gave Ethan an apologetic smile even though I was still angry. This whole mess wasn't his fault.
Without saying goodbye, I headed over to the big collection of metal mailboxes that line the entry to Cedar Grove. I opened up our little slot with the key I'd convinced Mom to give me since she was never home early enough to get the mail herself. I pulled out a stack of envelopes and flyers, instantly spotting the notice from the Cedar Grove Neighborhood Council even though it was at the bottom of the pile. No one else used paper the color of pee.
I didn't unfold the notice until Dad came home. I was afraid to read it. I didn't want Tyler and Ethan's story confirmed.
When Dad handed me the notice I was ready to be disappointed. But I wasn't prepared for another shock.
Dear Resident of Cedar Grove,
This notice is to serve as a reminder of Cedar
Grove bylaw 5.12.
Bylaw 5.12: A pet owner must ensure that a
permitted pet is kept quiet, controlled and clean. Any excrement on common property must be
immediately disposed of by the person supervising
the pet.
The Neighborhood Council appreciates the
effort of each individual resident in making
Cedar Grove a clean and pleasant place to live.
Sincerely,
Cedar Grove Neighborhood Council
The Council had listened to Mrs. Leary! They'd even sent out a notice. But they had totally ignored me. They weren't even considerate enough to inform me of their decision. I only knew the neighborhood council wasn't changing the tree-climbing bylaw because Marion Matheson had blabbed to her son. And Ethan had spread the news to everyone, including Tyler.
I crumpled the notice into a ball and threw it toward Dad, who was flipping through the rest of the mail.
“I hate Cedar Grove!” I growled.
“I'm sorry, Bree,” Dad said. I could barely hear him through the rush of blood to my head. I was too angry to answer. I stomped up to my room, hoping that everyone in the townhouse complex could hear each step.
I wasn't about to give up. But I wasn't going to the Neighborhood Council again. What a waste of time. I had to come up with a better idea.
According to Mom, I always had two choices: follow the rules or change them. If tree climbing was dangerous, then I should stop doing it and find a new hobby like reading or skipping. If tree climbing wasn't dangerous, I needed to prove it to the council. When I reminded Mom that I'd tried, she asked if I really believed that was true. She said this nicely, but her raised eyebrows told me otherwise.
Dad kept telling me there would be other trees to climb. He said he would take us on a big camping trip in the summer. Somewhere up past Whistler, where there are tons of trees in every shape and size. “They'll be perfect for climbing,” he promised and then added, “as long as a bear doesn't get there first.” As soon as I heard that, I knew Mom would never let us go.
Sarah thought I should ignore the bylaw and climb the trees in Cedar Grove. “Just don't let them catch you.” Sarah could get away with doing things like that. Not me. I had one of those faces that everyone could read like a book. The minute I climbed a tree, everyone would know it.
A better idea finally came to me two weeks later. I was sitting in class, trying not to be distracted by the sun streaming in through the window above my desk. The days were getting longer and longer, and it was finally warm enough to shed some layers of Gore-Tex and Polarfleece. Short sleeves would come next. I couldn't imagine summer without tree climbing in Cedar Grove.
Our social studies teacher, Mr. Vandermeer, was talking about Clayoquot Sound, an area on Vancouver Island that's famous for its old-growth trees. The pictures of the trees were interesting (they had massive trunks that looked as if they would be difficult to climb) and so was the story of a huge protest that happened there in 1993.
In one picture a group of people were standing around a small pickup truck parked across a dirt road. In the background I could see huge trucks and other tree-destroying machines. According to Mr. Vandermeer, some of the protesters actually chained themselves to the trees to stop those machines from doing their work.
My mind started to wander again as I imagined being part of something so radical. Each person in that picture looked so ordinary. But each one cared enough about the trees to stand up to the big rich forestry companies that were cutting them down. Working together, the protestors had found a way to have their voices heard.
“Can you guess how many people were arrested?” When Mr. Vandermeer's voice changed, I snapped back to attention. I knew he had asked a question. Everyone was silent.
“Brianna?” Mr. Vandermeer asked.
“Um, ten?” I guessed, thinking again about the people in the picture.