[short story] The Redwood
Inspired by stardan's prompt at UniFaction, "The Redwoods".
For as long as Juanita has been alive, there has been a Redwood tree smack dab in the middle of Grandma Lettie’s massive backyard. Juanita has had dreams of climbing that tree, but she is too short. Her Dad is too short, but then he is shorter than anyone else but her. Even her Mom was taller than her Dad.
One time he told Juanita that this meant he could get a better look at Mama’s legs, and Mom threw a dish rag at his face and told him to go be drunk in a different room.
Most people in the family agreed that Grandma Lettie was crazier than a bag full of cats, which Juanita thought was pretty crazy too. But she loved her, and all her crazy, and especially that Redwood. Oh, how Juanita loved that Redwood. Her mother would bring her to her Grandma’s every Sunday morning so that they could go to church together, and Juanita’s eyes would stay glued to the Redwood the moment she could see it.
“Grandma Lettie, Grandma Lettie,” Juanita would shout as she ran to the old woman. “Can we climb the tree instead?”
“Mija,” Grandma Lettie would say to her, “this is the greatest wonder of my life, and one day you will be able to see it in all its glory. But for now we go to give thanks to the one who has given us this gift.” And then her mother would sigh and smile and Juanita and her Grandma would wave her goodbye as she left. Then Grandma Lettie would make sure that Juanita was presentable, would find a scarf for her to wear, and then they would go to Mass. And Juanita would pray, and sing, and listen to the Priest give thanks to God and she would say in her own head, please may I climb the tree today.
And then Juanita would cross her fingers because she was certain it wouldn’t hurt.
Grandma Lettie always took her to a donut shop after Mass, where she could have any one donut she wanted. She always picked the jelly filled donut. And she always asked why the donut shop was open if Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest. And Grandma Lettie would say, “Because God wants us to have donuts and the owner is a heathen.” And Juanita would look at the heathen, and he was a jolly man with a beard and a turban, and his son who sometimes worked on Sundays had a smaller beard and a smaller turban. He had a nice smile, and she figured that it was ok if he was a heathen because he always picked out the biggest jelly filled donut for Juanita.
“Why is he a heathen?” Juanita asked her Grandma Lettie.
“Because,” she said with a cross look. Juanita thought it might be because of the turban. No one else wore those except for the owner and his son.
She told this to her Mom once, and Mom looked at Daddy and said, “Nacho, you need to speak to that woman. She shouldn’t be going around teaching her that sort of racist nonsense!” And then she told Juanita that if she ever heard her repeating those sorts of things, she would wash Juanita’s mouth out with soap.
Daddy took Juanita aside later and said that sometimes Grandma Lettie said bad things without knowing they were bad because no one ever taught her better, and she should ask him first before repeating anything Grandma Lettie said, even if she was only telling Mom. And that she shouldn’t say anything to Mom before asking him. Juanita nodded fervently, wanting to avoid the soap at all costs.
But Juanita’s favorite part of Sunday always came after the donuts, when they would return to Grandma Lettie’s. Grandma Lettie would always pour herself a drink and then give Juanita some apple juice. Then she would watch one of the television preachers and yell at him until she fell asleep in her chair. And Juanita would go into the backyard and try to climb the tree.
The first few times Juanita had felt big enough to try, she thought she could grab on and climb, like she did the tree in her front yard at home and the ones she had climbed at school until she got suspended. But it was hard to find anything to grab and she fell every time with splinters of wood in her fingers.
And then, once, she tried to find something sharp to stick in the tree to get up it. But her Grandma found her before she got very far, and was very angry at her for harming her tree.
“It is a living thing,” her Grandma told her, “you do not do such a thing to a living thing!” As Juanita had once seen her Grandma force someone to cut their tree down because it was growing into her lawn, she did not know what made the Redwood different. But she didn’t do it again.
No, now Juanita finds things to stand on. Chairs, boxes, whatever will remain stable. It had been harder when she was younger, when it was harder to move stuff on top of each other, but she was learning. She was always looking skyward, always wondering, how much higher? Sometimes she would find some rope and try to swing it over the branch closest to her, but it never quite made it. (And usually hit her in the head.) So she would find more things to stack up, and then more things to put at the bottom so she could build higher.
She would always be on the watch out for her Grandma, and at the first shouted “JUANITA!” would quickly scale down her pile and throw tarps over it. Grandma Lettie would ask her what she was building, and Juanita would tell her the biggest clubhouse in the world!
And Grandma Lettie would laugh and laugh and laugh.
But one day, Daddy and Mom came to Juanita and told her they would all be moving away, away from Grandma Lettie and her magnificent Redwood. “Your Mama is being promoted,” Daddy said. “And so we are moving, mija.”
And Juanita cried and cried and cried.
And her mom gathering up in her arms, and held her tight, and said “Shh, sweetie, it’ll be fun! You’ll meet new people and see new places! It’ll be an adventure.”
“But I’ll never get to climb the tree,” Juanita sobbed.
Juanita’s mom looked over at Daddy, who sighed.
The next day all three of them went over to Grandma Lettie’s. On the way over, Mom said to Daddy, “you’ve got to get her up there somehow.”
“It’s a tall tree,” Daddy said. “I’ve fallen off it a few times myself.”
“Well, maybe if you put her on your shoulders?”
“I want to do it myself!” Juanita shouted from the back seat.
When they arrived, Grandma Lettie was waiting for them on the porch. As soon as Juanita climbed out of the car, she opened her arms to Juanita, who threw herself into them.
“I don’t want to move away,” she sniffled.
“She wouldn’t stop crying about that tree,” her mom told Grandma Lettie. Her grandma nodded, as if she had expected as much.
“Go inside, wait for us,” Grandma Lettie said to Mom and Daddy. Juanita could see that her Mom didn’t want to go, but Daddy put an arm around her and took her inside. When they were inside, Grandma Lettie smiled down at Juanita and took her hand. Together they walked to the Redwood.
As they walked to it, Juanita looked up and up trying to see the top, but it was too high in the sky for her. She wanted to see it, she wanted to climb all the way to the top!
They walked around the tree to where Juanita’s hill was, and Grandma Lettie took all the tarps off of it. Juanita looked at her hill of tables and chairs and boxes and shelves and looked up at the tree. It was still very small, her hill.
“Why does it have to be so small?” Juanita complained.
But Grandma Lettie didn’t reply, just shoved some chairs and boxes off of one of the tables and sat herself on top of it. “Come here, mija,” she said, reaching down for Juanita, and Juanita let her Grandma Lettie pull her into her lap, and then they both looked up into the sky.
“You must not be sad, Juanita,” she said. “This tree will not be going anywhere. It was here when my grandmother chased me away from it, when my mother told your father to stop trying. It has been here every Sunday you have tried to climb it. And it will be here when you come back.” And Grandma Lettie hugged her close, and they did not speak for the rest of the time they were outside.
When Juanita left with her Mom and Daddy, she watched the Redwood until she could see it no more. Daddy looked into the back and smiled.
“Don’t worry, Juanita,” he said. “We’ll come to visit, and one day when you’re older… well, good old Dad here will tell you the story of how he got up that tree.”
Juanita grinned.
For as long as Juanita has been alive, there has been a Redwood tree smack dab in the middle of Grandma Lettie’s massive backyard. Juanita has had dreams of climbing that tree, but she is too short. Her Dad is too short, but then he is shorter than anyone else but her. Even her Mom was taller than her Dad.
One time he told Juanita that this meant he could get a better look at Mama’s legs, and Mom threw a dish rag at his face and told him to go be drunk in a different room.
Most people in the family agreed that Grandma Lettie was crazier than a bag full of cats, which Juanita thought was pretty crazy too. But she loved her, and all her crazy, and especially that Redwood. Oh, how Juanita loved that Redwood. Her mother would bring her to her Grandma’s every Sunday morning so that they could go to church together, and Juanita’s eyes would stay glued to the Redwood the moment she could see it.
“Grandma Lettie, Grandma Lettie,” Juanita would shout as she ran to the old woman. “Can we climb the tree instead?”
“Mija,” Grandma Lettie would say to her, “this is the greatest wonder of my life, and one day you will be able to see it in all its glory. But for now we go to give thanks to the one who has given us this gift.” And then her mother would sigh and smile and Juanita and her Grandma would wave her goodbye as she left. Then Grandma Lettie would make sure that Juanita was presentable, would find a scarf for her to wear, and then they would go to Mass. And Juanita would pray, and sing, and listen to the Priest give thanks to God and she would say in her own head, please may I climb the tree today.
And then Juanita would cross her fingers because she was certain it wouldn’t hurt.
Grandma Lettie always took her to a donut shop after Mass, where she could have any one donut she wanted. She always picked the jelly filled donut. And she always asked why the donut shop was open if Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest. And Grandma Lettie would say, “Because God wants us to have donuts and the owner is a heathen.” And Juanita would look at the heathen, and he was a jolly man with a beard and a turban, and his son who sometimes worked on Sundays had a smaller beard and a smaller turban. He had a nice smile, and she figured that it was ok if he was a heathen because he always picked out the biggest jelly filled donut for Juanita.
“Why is he a heathen?” Juanita asked her Grandma Lettie.
“Because,” she said with a cross look. Juanita thought it might be because of the turban. No one else wore those except for the owner and his son.
She told this to her Mom once, and Mom looked at Daddy and said, “Nacho, you need to speak to that woman. She shouldn’t be going around teaching her that sort of racist nonsense!” And then she told Juanita that if she ever heard her repeating those sorts of things, she would wash Juanita’s mouth out with soap.
Daddy took Juanita aside later and said that sometimes Grandma Lettie said bad things without knowing they were bad because no one ever taught her better, and she should ask him first before repeating anything Grandma Lettie said, even if she was only telling Mom. And that she shouldn’t say anything to Mom before asking him. Juanita nodded fervently, wanting to avoid the soap at all costs.
But Juanita’s favorite part of Sunday always came after the donuts, when they would return to Grandma Lettie’s. Grandma Lettie would always pour herself a drink and then give Juanita some apple juice. Then she would watch one of the television preachers and yell at him until she fell asleep in her chair. And Juanita would go into the backyard and try to climb the tree.
The first few times Juanita had felt big enough to try, she thought she could grab on and climb, like she did the tree in her front yard at home and the ones she had climbed at school until she got suspended. But it was hard to find anything to grab and she fell every time with splinters of wood in her fingers.
And then, once, she tried to find something sharp to stick in the tree to get up it. But her Grandma found her before she got very far, and was very angry at her for harming her tree.
“It is a living thing,” her Grandma told her, “you do not do such a thing to a living thing!” As Juanita had once seen her Grandma force someone to cut their tree down because it was growing into her lawn, she did not know what made the Redwood different. But she didn’t do it again.
No, now Juanita finds things to stand on. Chairs, boxes, whatever will remain stable. It had been harder when she was younger, when it was harder to move stuff on top of each other, but she was learning. She was always looking skyward, always wondering, how much higher? Sometimes she would find some rope and try to swing it over the branch closest to her, but it never quite made it. (And usually hit her in the head.) So she would find more things to stack up, and then more things to put at the bottom so she could build higher.
She would always be on the watch out for her Grandma, and at the first shouted “JUANITA!” would quickly scale down her pile and throw tarps over it. Grandma Lettie would ask her what she was building, and Juanita would tell her the biggest clubhouse in the world!
And Grandma Lettie would laugh and laugh and laugh.
But one day, Daddy and Mom came to Juanita and told her they would all be moving away, away from Grandma Lettie and her magnificent Redwood. “Your Mama is being promoted,” Daddy said. “And so we are moving, mija.”
And Juanita cried and cried and cried.
And her mom gathering up in her arms, and held her tight, and said “Shh, sweetie, it’ll be fun! You’ll meet new people and see new places! It’ll be an adventure.”
“But I’ll never get to climb the tree,” Juanita sobbed.
Juanita’s mom looked over at Daddy, who sighed.
The next day all three of them went over to Grandma Lettie’s. On the way over, Mom said to Daddy, “you’ve got to get her up there somehow.”
“It’s a tall tree,” Daddy said. “I’ve fallen off it a few times myself.”
“Well, maybe if you put her on your shoulders?”
“I want to do it myself!” Juanita shouted from the back seat.
When they arrived, Grandma Lettie was waiting for them on the porch. As soon as Juanita climbed out of the car, she opened her arms to Juanita, who threw herself into them.
“I don’t want to move away,” she sniffled.
“She wouldn’t stop crying about that tree,” her mom told Grandma Lettie. Her grandma nodded, as if she had expected as much.
“Go inside, wait for us,” Grandma Lettie said to Mom and Daddy. Juanita could see that her Mom didn’t want to go, but Daddy put an arm around her and took her inside. When they were inside, Grandma Lettie smiled down at Juanita and took her hand. Together they walked to the Redwood.
As they walked to it, Juanita looked up and up trying to see the top, but it was too high in the sky for her. She wanted to see it, she wanted to climb all the way to the top!
They walked around the tree to where Juanita’s hill was, and Grandma Lettie took all the tarps off of it. Juanita looked at her hill of tables and chairs and boxes and shelves and looked up at the tree. It was still very small, her hill.
“Why does it have to be so small?” Juanita complained.
But Grandma Lettie didn’t reply, just shoved some chairs and boxes off of one of the tables and sat herself on top of it. “Come here, mija,” she said, reaching down for Juanita, and Juanita let her Grandma Lettie pull her into her lap, and then they both looked up into the sky.
“You must not be sad, Juanita,” she said. “This tree will not be going anywhere. It was here when my grandmother chased me away from it, when my mother told your father to stop trying. It has been here every Sunday you have tried to climb it. And it will be here when you come back.” And Grandma Lettie hugged her close, and they did not speak for the rest of the time they were outside.
When Juanita left with her Mom and Daddy, she watched the Redwood until she could see it no more. Daddy looked into the back and smiled.
“Don’t worry, Juanita,” he said. “We’ll come to visit, and one day when you’re older… well, good old Dad here will tell you the story of how he got up that tree.”
Juanita grinned.