Westlake, Donald E - Novel 25 (4 page)

 
          
 
That was why he had to wait till Sunday to go
to the park. In the park there was dirt and there was grass and there were
trees and . . .

 
          
 
TREES!

 
          
 
Trees grow in dirt.
Always.
Every time.

 
          
 
And that means, where you find trees you are
absolutely certain to find dirt.

 
          
 
And where was there a tree?

 
          
 
Right in front of the apartment house!

 
          
 
True, it was an awfully little tree. It was
such a small and skinny tree that it had to be held up with two poles. But
there was dirt around it.
Genuine, honest-to-Pete, real-life
dirt.

 
          
 
There was dirt in a square the size of a piece
of sidewalk. The tree was growing out of the dirt, and the poles holding the
tree were stuck in the dirt, but there was still room for Philip's truck.

 
          
 
Plenty of room.

 
          
 
Now, this was best of all. This was better
than the window box, because Philip could make the truck turn around here. And
it was better than the pot of sand because he could make the truck go straight
ahead.

 
          
 
Philip began to move big truckloads of dirt.

 
          
 
And bigger truckloads of
dirt.

 
          
 
And even bigger truckloads of dirt.

 
          
 
Oh, oh!

 
          
 
Philip looked up and tried to smile.
"Hello, Mister Neep," he said. "Is something wrong?"

 
          
 
"Not if what we want is a dead
tree," said Mister Neep. "If we want a dead tree, we'll just ask you
to dig it up for us. But if we want a live tree, then I'd say something's
wrong, yes."

 
          
 
Philip looked at the tree. He had done a lot
of digging on one side. There were roots showing now, and the tree seemed to be
leaning just a little.

 
          
 
Philip said, "I guess I shouldn't have done
that."

 
          
 
"I guess not," said Mister Neep.

 
          
 
"I'll put all the dirt back," Philip
promised.

 
          
 
"Oh, I'm sure of that," said Mister
Neep.

 
          
 
Philip started putting the dirt back where it
belonged. He used his hands this time, not the new dump truck.

 
          
 
Mister Neep squatted down beside Philip. When
he bent his knees they made large cracking sounds, like a cap pistol when you
pull the trigger and the cap doesn't fire. Mister Neep said, "Philip, you
keep getting into trouble today."

 
          
 
"I know it," said Philip.

 
          
 
"That isn't like you," said Mister
Neep. "What's wrong, Philip?"

 
          
 
"It's my new truck," said Philip.
"This truck here.
This is the present that came for me
today."

 
          
 
"I see," said Mister Neep.
"Well, it's certainly a first-rate dump truck."

 
          
 
"But there's no dirt anywhere," said
Philip. "At least, none I can use."

 
          
 
"I see," said Mister Neep.
"Well, let me think about it." He stood up again, and his knees
cracked some more, like popcorn popping. When he stood up, Mister Neep was
taller than the tree. "You keep putting that dirt back," he said.

 
          
 
"Yes, sir," said Philip.

 
          
 
Philip watched Mister Neep go into the
apartment house and start talking into the telephone just inside the door. He
knew Mister Neep must be talking to his mother, telling her everything he'd
been doing wrong.

 
          
 
When Mister Neep finished talking on the
phone, he came back outside. He walked majestically along the sidewalk to the
right until he came to the doorman standing under the canopy in front of the
next apartment house. Mister Neep talked to this doorman. He pointed at Philip
as though to warn the next-door doorman that Philip might come over any minute
and start digging in his sandpot or killing his tree.

 
          
 
Then that doorman walked majestically along
the sidewalk to the right until he came to the doorman after him, and they
talked together. They both looked at Philip.

 
          
 
Philip worked even faster at putting the dirt
back at the bottom of the tree.

 
          
 
Then that next doorman walked majestically
along the sidewalk to the right until he came to the doorman after him, and
they talked, and then that doorman walked majestically along the sidewalk until
he came to yet another doorman, and so on, and so on, and so on.

 
          
 
Philip didn't think that was right. He knew
he'd caused Mister Neep trouble today, but he didn't think it was fair for
Mister Neep to tell on him to all the other doormen.

 
          
 
Still, Philip didn't say anything. He knew it
was his own fault to begin with.

 
          
 
When he had all the dirt back where it belonged,
he brushed his hands clean and picked up his truck. He started into the
apartment house. Mister Neep said, "Where are you going, Philip?"

 
          
 
"Home," said Philip.

 
          
 
"Wait a minute or two," said Mister
Neep.

 
          
 
Philip looked up at Mister Neep. Mister Neep's
face didn't look like the sky just before a storm any more. In fact, Mister
Neep's face now looked very jolly. Philip said, "What's going on, Mister
Neep?"