A FOREST FOR THE PLAY CITY
Abby was up early and riding to work by 8AM. The streets were calm. No one bothered her. When she knocked Rob opened the door and smiled. “I’m so happy you’re here early,” he said. “I’d like to mention a few things before the others arrive. First, I’m afraid Rose is not feeling well, and will not be able to work today. I fact she’s been ill for a few days, and has gone to her aunt’s house to rest. Tom Winkle will work as a parent volunteer. He’s done that before. Lucy will stay for the whole day, and things should work out for everyone.”
“I’m sorry Rose is not well.”
“It happens to everyone at one time or another. But let me quickly go over a few things before the children are here. First, we owe you at least thirty dollars for the plants you brought yesterday. The activity was splendid, and has given us a whole new direction for our group.”
Abby clapped her hands and then felt embarrassed by her own happiness. “I really appreciate it,” she said, “but Alison gave them to me for free.”
“Please thank Alison for us, but I insist you take the money. You’ve been doing too much for nothing. It’s on my conscience. And we do need you here.”
The thought flashed through Abby’s mind to ask Rob about Rose’s harsh words and warning to avoid publicity, as if Abby could control the media. But she was so bewildered by Rose’s behavior that she didn’t mention it.
“Thank you so much,” she finally replied. “I hardly know what to say.”
“Okay, then,” Robe said, “now here’s the plan for the morning. I was just making a picnic lunch when you arrived. We’re taking a little walk today. Tom will guide us to the baby trees we’re looking for. Peanut butter and jelly, lemon cukes, and apples will give us a nice picnic.”
The morning went along beautifully. Tom led them through the back yard and a long apple orchard to the tall maple trees near High Street. The children were glad to be outside, and were very curious about the idea of transplanting baby trees. Tom brought a wheelbarrow full of pots and three hand trowels. The children begged for rides, but Rob said “No.” He insisted that this was a serious quest for real trees, not a game.
The land rose to a small hill as they walked along. Soon a view of the wetland, the forest, and the cliffs opened up in the clear air. Along High Street enormous old maple trees lined the road, set back about twenty yards, and shading a wide area. Tom asked the group to sit as he explained the activity. The three grown-ups would work with two or three children each, and scout around for very small trees growing in the shade of the splendid maples. Abby had seen the baby trees already.
The children would each carry a small pot. When they found a tree of the right size the adult would thrust the hand trowel around the tree and loosen it up, and each child would grip the ball of earth and roots, and gently lift it into the pot. The trees were only a few months old, and the pots about six inches deep. The activity went very quickly. All the children were delighted to hold their own tree. Tom, Rob, and Abby also found trees, so the group had ten altogether. They sat in the shade and ate lunch. The view of the river was beautiful. Later on they watered the trees, and placed them in the sunlight near the south window. They planned to move the whole play city across the room to join the trees and the new plants rooting in the wet soil.
Abby rode back down Grove Avenue to Hobart in high spirits. She could hardly believe her good luck. But as she began to get a view of the church her heart sank. A crowd was milling around the sidewalk in front of the churchyard gate. She was about to turn around and hide somewhere, when she recognized Sulay, Nico, Phoebe, and Officer Harley among the people there. Clearly they were blocking entry to a group of reporters standing with cameras and sound equipment.
'Oh no,' thought Abby.