Page 141 of Everything Under the Sun

It was the first time I trusted Thais to be alone with anyone other than myself.

46

THAIS

I thought Jeffrey would give me the grand tour of the treehouse with all of its elaborate woodwork and maze-like floorplan and the spiral staircase that led upstairs to an open loft. But it wasn’t the house he wanted me to see. Taking my hand, Jeffrey led me through a spacious front room and into a den, where, instead of furniture, a small-scale house and landscape sat on a three-foot wide, three-foot long, one-inch thick sheet of plywood in the center of the room.

My eyes grew wide; absently I took off my backpack and placed it on the floor, reached out and ran my fingers lightly across the moss-and-rock-covered ground that blanketed the plywood. Across the landscape there were miniature trees and bushes; a couple of hills had been raised; there was a small pond near the little house with a dollop of real water; and a horse stable and a barn.

I leaned over the tiny house, peered in at the intricately-placed sticks; a little door had been carved out on the front, and a few windows; there was even a tiny porch the size of a matchbox.

“You made this?”

Jeffrey nodded. “I make it.”

He leaned over next to me and pointed at the moss and trees first.

“I find it one day. Grandpa said it was fake grass. He showed me how to make it. So I make it.” Then he pointed at the house. “It’s not a real house; too little to be a real house, but I make it with sticks. See? I glued it with sap. It’s very sticky.” Then he made a face. “But don’t eat sap.”

I made a face, too.

“Now don’t be a’keepin’ her too long, Jeffrey,” said June from the living room. “Would ya like somethin’ to drink, dear?”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you.” I stood with my hands folded down in front of me.

When June moved out of the way, I glimpsed Atticus sitting in the front room talking with Esra, and I regarded him for a moment.

ATTICUS

I felt Thais’ eyes on me, turned to see her from across the room, and smiled back at her with adoration.

“So where were yens comin’ from?” Esra asked, pulling me back into our conversation.

Esra adjusted his old bones to make himself comfortable. “Not to be nosy,” he went on, “but I was just wonderin’ if yens were run out of your last home. Happens a lot I ‘magine, with the wicked runnin’ ‘round like they do.”

“Ran out—yeah, you can say that.”

“Ah, well, yens are probably better off out here anyways. June, get me a smoke will ya!”—he turned back to me—“We was livin’ up in Mt. Vernon when it all happened. Before things got real bad we high-tailed it here. Been here ever since.”

“And you’ve been living off the supplies in the cabin?” I asked, still not understanding how any of this was possible. “Not to be nosy, either, but that cabin is well-stocked. After six years, I’d think more than half of it would be gone by now. Even if you frequently went out in search of more supplies”—I shook my head with disbelief—“Not even your grandson could pull that off by himself.”

June re-entered the room carrying a tray; four clear plastic cups sat atop it filled with a pinkish liquid. She offered the tray first to Esra who reached for a cup, then to me, who looked at the liquid, wondering what it could be. I took a cup, looked down into it, and then up at June askance.

“Pink lemonade,” June told me. “Got a can of the powdered stuff. Ya don’t like pink lemonade?”

I shook my head. “Oh no, it’s not that, I just—.” I glanced at Esra, watched him gulp the lemonade down in almost one breath. “I like pink lemonade—thank you,” I told June, and then took a sip.

“Where’s my smoke, woman?”

June didn’t answer; she went into the den where I could faintly hear Jeffrey telling Thais all about how he’d made the model, and about how he could climb up and down the tree without having to use the elevator, and about how he liked to swim in “Mr. Graham’s fish pond”, but that he couldn’t anymore because it was our pond now.

I listened intently to Esra, and because it was in my nature to do, I listened for the faintest of lies.

“Our cabin down there,” Esra said with the backward tilt of his head, “was filled with supplies, too. A week before they came through here, we had nearly emptied it plum-out, brought as much as we could up here. We knowed it was a matter of time ‘fore somebody came and stole everythin’.”

He jerked his head to the left. “The other cabin—it’s just a oversized shed, really—was locked up real good. It ain’t got no windows, and the only way in was through that door, but it was dead-bolted. They wundn’t gonna burn it down ‘cuz they knew there was somethin’ valuable inside or else it wouldn’a been locked up like that.”

He stopped long enough to down the rest of his drink, guzzled it, and then set the empty cup on the table between our chairs.

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