Chapter One An Advantageous Perch

It was a beautiful spring day at the Jackson Parish Home for Girls. Birds sang from high perches amidst the trees. Butterflies of every color gently fluttered by. The roses, the Vicar’s pride and joy, were in full bloom. Their sweet aroma wafted across the lawn. Wild flowers of assorted colors were clumped everywhere which gave the Plantation the look of a colorful picture puzzle. The leaves of the trees had filled out with hundreds of shades of green. Some sported little white blossoms, others lavender.

The lawn was a sea of green with splashes of yellow, pink, orange, red, purple, white and blue. The sound of children’s laughter echoed through the air. Not even Miss Ida, in her bright fuchsia dress with large bright yellow cows casually munching on lime green grass and her enormous purple wig with a hat plopped on top that sported what looked like a pitiful squashed moose, could spoil the feeling that everything was right with the world.

Peter was perched on the topmost branch of the tallest tree in the entire state of Louisiana. Possibly the tallest tree in the entire country. Possibly the tallest tree in the entire world. He looked like he floated in air as his feet wrapped around a small fragile branch, which left most of his torso rising above the branches full of large green leaves of different shades.

Peter was dressed in what only could be described as a great white hunter’s outfit with an Australian tour guides hat. He looked like he could stay in his roost, possibly settle down there, give tours, raise a family, grow old, and write a book about it all.

As the tree swayed, he swayed with it. He held a small brown set of binoculars in his hands as he looked out across the great expanse of countryside that laid before him. Very calm, very satisfied that he had found such an advantageous perch. The occasional bird would flutter down, rest on his shoulder and give him a ’can I look’ look. He totally ignored the commotion below him.

Down below, Carol was on all fours with a very pained look upon her face as Mary perched on top of her back. Mary held little Olivia’s feet in her hands in an attempt to boost her up to the first branch of this enormous tree affectionately named Big Bad Bertha.

Olivia recently started wearing high heels to add stature to her tiny frame. It was her only defense against being called names like: midget, runt, little bit, tiny Tim, dwarf, peewee, squirt, pint, spudley, little Caesar and the ever dreaded ‘munchkin.’ She absolutely loathed being told she was petite. She downright hated being called cute. Cute, she thought, was for kittens and various other small furry creatures. Since Missy Hyde had limited resources, Olivia had to use Missy Hyde’s old high heels. They had no effect. Olivia had gone from miniscule to tiny to very small. The heels now rested on Mary’s hands digging two very large, very painful holes into her friend.

They were not about to give up, though. Curiosity has gotten the best of them. They just had to see what Peter was up to.

“OW,” cried Mary. “Oli, take off your shoes!”

“I can’t. If I do that, I’ll never reach the tree branch,” responded Olivia.

Mary moaned. Carol Moaned. Phoophie, the dog, who was standing nearby moaned (in sympathy, of course). Phoophie was a very sympathetic dog. Her two eyes peered out from beneath a mop of hair. She was so shaggy that it was hard to tell where her body left off and her legs began. As far as the girls knew, she didn’t have any legs. The only thing that kept Missy Hyde from sweeping her out the door with the other fur balls was her bright red spiked collar and her propensity to growl.

Missy Hyde abandoned all attempts to groom her. Any attempt resulted in enough hair to build another Phoophie. One Phoophie was quite enough. She had followed Olivia home one day and never left. Her main hobbies where eating, sleeping, sympathizing with the girls and tormenting the adults.

Mary decided to change tactics.

“Kay. Kay! Kay!!!” shouted Mary. It fell on deaf ears. Kay was seated at the base of the tree with her back against the trunk. Dressed in a white cotton tee-shirt and white shorts, she applied yet another layer of powder to her face from a plastic compact. Missy Hyde always kept an ample supply on hand. She could never figure out how Kay managed to use so much.

Mary should have known better than to disturb Kay during her powdering ritual. Every girl has a ritual. For Olivia is was tea parties. For Mary it was exploring the strange and unusual in hopes that someday she’ll get her picture on the cover of the National Enquirer. For Kay it was powdering, of course. For Carol it was… it was…well, Carol didn’t have a ritual. She didn’t even know what the word meant. Almost every girl has a ritual.

“Push a little higher, Mary,” said Olivia.

“On the count of three, I’m going to jump up…” said Mary.

“What!” cried Carol, seeing her life flash before her eyes. It was a very short trip.

“On the way up, grab the branch,” continued Mary.

At the moment, Olivia didn’t see anything wrong with that plan. After she thought it through, however, she realized she was in big trouble. Her life flashed before her eyes. It was an even shorter trip.

“But Mary!” said Olivia.

“One…” Mary counted.

“But Mary!” Olivia Pleaded.

“Two… “ Mary counted.

“But Mary!” screamed Olivia and Carol in unison.

“Three!” And with that, Mary leapt into the air and pushed Olivia with all her might. Her tiny stature and small frame made her a very light object. Olivia flew past the first branch, flew past the second branch, then to her dismay her ascent turned into a rapid descent. She saw the second branch fly by again in the opposite direction and only regained her senses in time to grab hold of the first branch before it passed beyond her reach.

Mary cheered. Carol cheered. Olivia wasn’t quite sure if there was anything to cheer about. She had hold of the branch, but her feet dangled down toward the ground. Her high heals plopped off her feet and one by one headed down toward Carol’s head like two intercontinental ballistic missiles barely missing their target by a fraction of an inch.

Olivia envisioned her delicate and easily bruised body following her shoes down into the abyss below. She swung her feet towards the tree trunk. No luck. She swung her feet again. Again no luck. She knew she should have stayed in bed that morning. After several more unsuccessful attempts, her feet finally reached their target.

She hung there - hanging onto the branch with her hands and her feet braced firmly against the tree - for a good long while. Her long stringy hair hanging down.

“Can I come down now?” she asked.

“Absolutely not. You have to pull yourself up, climb to the top and see what Peter is doing,” Mary replied.

“That wasn’t in the contract!” she retorted.

Mary was still standing on Carol’s back. Carol was turning an odd shade of red. Mary was not the lightest of passengers, by any means, and the load was weighing heavily on Carol.

“Mary,” said Carol.

“Just try to swing yourself up,” Mary shouted to Olivia.

“Mary,” continued Carol.

“Easier said than done,” Olivia shouted back.

“Mary!” squeaked Carol as she started to lose her balance.

“Put all of your weight into it?” Mary retorted.

“Mary!” Carol shouted, almost ready to cry.

“What weight?” Olivia snapped back.

“Mary!!!” and with that, Carol gave into the temptation to faint and collapsed sending Mary toppling to the ground.

Olivia only able to catch a glimpse of Mary’s downfall, quickly scrambled onto the branch for a better look. “How the mighty have fallen,” she laughed.

Mary blew away a strand of hair that hung down in her face, checked herself for any breaks or fractures, dusted herself off and climbed back on the unconscious body of Carol to get a better view of Olivia.

“Ow!” Carol squeaked.

“Yeah, I thought so,” said Mary.

Olivia looked up and found herself staring straight into the eyes of a very large, very upset squirrel. The squirrel chattered in annoyance and twitched it’s tail back and forth in a frenzy. With it’s little arms raised, it look like it wanted to challenge Olivia to a featherweight boxing match. Upon the realization that the squirrel would probably win a duke out, Olivia carefully backed up and scampered up to the next branch.

She continued her ascent with the constant, persistent, and annoying encouragement of Mary, also known as Mother Mary (but not in a good way).

She encountered a number of tree dwellers including an absurd looking white possum with it’s tail wrapped around a tree branch, as it hung upside down. It stared at Olivia with beady little black eyes.

She stopped to admire a massive bird’s nest only to be sent scampering higher by a very indignant Blue Jay.

She also encountered bugs of questionable origin. The Walking Stick with it’s baby on it’s back. “What was God thinking?“ she thought to herself. She gave it a wide birth. A trail of ants herded aphids up and down the tree trunk. A strange little bug with glowing green eyes and a questioning look on it‘s face sat in quiet repose.

As she rapidly approached Peter’s roost at the top of the tree, the sound of Mary’s yelling continued from below.

“Whatever you do… Don’t fall!”

KEEP READING