‘Oh my God. You live in a tree house,’ I say, staring up.
There are several structures spanning across the largest trees that ring the outside of the clearing. Wooden-slatted rope bridges connect the different structures, and more ropes hang down to the ground, weighted on one end by rocks. I swear I saw something almost exactly like this in the Kevin Costner version of Robin Hood, so I know that those ropes with rocks at one end are a kind of pulley system to help raise and lower heavy objects to the ground with less effort.
‘Wow,’ I say, because that’s the first thing I think. The second thing I think is, Where do they go to the bathroom? but I don’t want to ask yet, even if I really need to use the bathroom.
I notice that Bo has gone silent while I’m staring, so I look over at him and see him watching me nervously.
‘This is the coolest thing I’ve seen outside of a movie theatre,’ I say honestly, and his face breaks with relief. We’re interrupted before we can speak any further.
‘I don’t care whose turn it is,’ a shrill boy’s voice screams. ‘I made it; it’s mine!’
Two mostly naked, dirty bodies erupt from one of the teepees and tumble across the ground in a tangle of skinny arms and boney knees. Nearest I can tell, two boys – both of them about ten – are fighting desperately over something clasped in the slightly larger boy’s right hand.
A woman (inference tells me this is Bo’s mom) bursts out of the greenhouse and sprints at an enviable pace to the brawling boys. And it’s a good thing, too. These two aren’t pulling their punches. They both know how to fight, close-fisted, grown-man-style fighting, and they are truly beating the snot out of each other.
Their fleet-footed mom is a lean, greying woman with long limbs and a deep alto voice. From her first words, I know this isn’t the kind of woman you screw around with.
‘Karl! Drop it now!’ she orders. She doesn’t raise her voice – not in the way most women do when they get angry. Her pitch lowers, actually, and it takes on this rumbling quality that isn’t loud, but can’t be unheard.
The bigger one – Karl, I’m assuming – lets go of whatever he’s holding in his right hand, and the littler one snatches it up tearfully.
‘Aspen. Give it to me,’ their mother says.
Aspen shuffles from foot to foot in the same way Bo does when he’s feeling tortured, and rubs at his streaked face. One look at his mother’s dark, piercing eyes and he knows he’s not going to win this. He gives her whatever it is he fought so hard for.
She balls it into her hand and puts both fists on her hips. ‘Go upstairs. Both of you,’ she says in a quiet, almost tender voice.
They run away in step, and their mother calls after them, ‘Not together! One of you go to Ariel, and the other to Roost.’ They both pause. Then, reluctantly, they split up, and one of them goes to a structure on one end of the circle. It has a sign painted in red over the door that says Ariel. The other boy goes to a treehouse structure that is as far away from it as possible. Above this door in purple is painted the name Roost. A quick glance around, and I see that all of the dormitories have different names painted above them, each in a different colour of the rainbow.
Bo’s mother faces me. And I almost pee a little.
‘You’re late,’ she informs me.
‘I am,’ I agree. ‘I’m slower than Bo.’ Honesty is best, I figure.
She gives me a little smile. ‘Most people are.’ She turns away from me. ‘Raven, make sure you shut the greenhouse before the crows get in there again,’ she calls calmly to a sullen-looking girl, who scurries to shut the door. There are some cock-headed crows hopping in their sidling way to the unguarded treasure trove of food. Raven scatters them with a few well-placed kicks as Bo’s mom turns back to face me.
‘Do you like vegetable stir-fry?’ she asks.
‘Love it,’ I reply.
‘Good.’ She turns away from me again, making something of a show of how little attention she needs to afford me, but I know she’s already studied me closely. She’s seen my hiking sandals, and they’re the best. She’s ticked her eyes over my designer jean shorts and artfully distressed T-shirt and knows how much they must have cost. Sizing someone up on the sly is an art. I’ve been once-overed by a master.
And then it hits me. She used to have money. Probably a lot.
‘You can help me cook it, then,’ she says. ‘Come with me.’
Bo gives me a panicked look, but I smile at him and say quietly, ‘I’ll be fine,’ as I move to follow her. He’s reluctant to let me go with his mom, but I’m not. I’ve been hazed by the best of them, and
I know it’s better if she and I get this out of the way in private.
She takes me into the greenhouse, and I see right away that this is a bold move. Half of the growing things are edible – tomatoes, beans, cucumbers, carrots, potatoes, peppers, and the like. The other half of the growing things are cannabis plants.
‘Hydroponic,’ I say absently, admiring the set-up. The rows of tables are actually tanks with water circulating in a pump system. I can faintly hear the generator, but it’s very quiet.
‘Solar-powered,’ she says, nodding. ‘The panels are dispersed across the different dormitories. That’s why we live in the trees in a circular pattern. To give the panels a little light every day, every season.’
I admire the rich growth. ‘My grandmother would kill for this kind of yield,’ I mumble, touching the swollen bellies on a vine of cherry tomatoes. I see something at the bottom of the tank flash pale and then disappear. ‘Are those fish?’ I ask.