AN AUDACIOUS DECISION
Downstairs, Jewellyn tossed and turned in bed. The moonlight was shining in through the dirty glass of the upper basement window. Her thoughts were restless. She was thinking about what Auntie had said about them showing their love for her and what they could do about it. Also...she found herself feeling a mix of emotions whenever she thought about Fenix. She felt a yearning, or an ache, which at the present seemed to have no outlet. Anxiety and puzzlement battled for control against the pleasant thoughts and feelings within her soul. She had a strong like for him and was beginning to wonder if this was what love was all about. Her stomach churned and roiled. She wished that love was more definable. She had thought, or had hoped, that love would be more thrilling, more idyllic. More like some of the stories she was told by her mother, or some of the poems Fenix wrote. Slowly her thoughts faded and she fell asleep.
Upstairs, Fenix was just as restless if not more. He watched the full moon rising in the distance with the moonlight streaming in through his window. The restlessness had little to do with Jewellyn, though she was pleasant enough, and was a good friend; but it had more to do with the taunting and teasing he endured about the climbing of the tree. This filled him with a little fear and anxiety, causing his stomach to churn and roil a bit. Why did I vow to climb that stupid tree tomorrow when I know darn well that I'm deathly afraid of it, and probably won't even do it? he asked himself. What am I to do? Also, the thought of what he was going to do to show his love for Auntie affected his state of mind. He had a deep love and respect for Aunt Tildy and felt bad that they had hurt her and scared her. They didn't mean to upset her, but, he admitted to himself, they could have found some way to inform her. Maybe they could have told one of the more symphathetic boys who were present at that time to send the news that they might be late...but still, it was that blasted tree that loomed in his mind that bothered him more. It became something that had to be defeated somehow, but he couldn't stand it if people saw him fail in the attempt. He wondered how many had really conquered this tree because the rest of the boys never said anything about it when asked.
An idea was beginning to form in his mind, an audacious one. He lay there and thought, well, why don't I sneak out and climb the tree now? A kind of test run as it were. There would be plenty of light provided by the full moon and he figured he could climb it, if he proceeded slowly and cautiously. Hopefully, no one would check on him while he was away. He got up out of bed and walked over to the window to look out at the tree. There it was, looking almost spectral in the moonlight; and somehow not so intimidating from this viewpoint.
He thought about climbing out the window and getting there that way...except there was one problem: he would have to jump down and from this height there was a good chance he'd at least sprain an ankle, though more likely he would have broken something and that would have gotten him nowhere. Some of the other boys who were more athletic could do it he supposed, but being athletic wasn't his forte. He briefly thought about tying his sheets together and climbing down that way but of course that had its' complications too; if someone did come up and check on him they would see a sheetless bed and then sound the alarm. Also, there didn't seem to be a decent place to tie the sheets to that would give him enough length to climb down. He scratched his head and figured he would have to sneak downstairs and then go through the door in the backroom storage shed to get out that way...but he'd have to be very, very quiet. Sometimes those dang stairs would creak at the worse possible moments. He knew this from the one time he tried to sneak down to raid the cookie jar. Auntie did not like it if children were up and moving about at odd hours.
So, he made up his mind then, he was going to do it. He tried as much as possible to make it look like someone was still in the bed by rearranging the pillow under his sheets. He surveyed his handiwork and decided it was suitable. He took off his pajamas, rummaged through the drawers for some heavier clothing as he knew it would be a bit cool out there tonight. Properly dressed then, he carefully opened his bedroom door oh so quietly, silently stepped out, and tried to shut the door behind him just as quietly. As careful as he was, the door shut with what sounded like to him a very loud click! He could hear it resonate and echo just a bit in the hallway.
He froze.
Surely someone had to have heard that. He could have sworn the beating of his heart was going to become audible too. He remained still for a brief span of time not knowing whether to continue or retreat. A few moments had passed, nobody seemed to have heard. Everything was still. He took a deep breath and moved on across to the stairs. He managed to get there quietly without someone having to get up and go to the privy, thus noticing him in the process; so far so good.
This was going to be one of the more challenging parts, navigating his way down the stairs. He approached the stairs cautiously and tentatively stepped down on one of the steps. Holding his breath, he succeeded with that one and moved out his other leg and stepped carefully down onto the next step. Letting out a breath now and psychologically preparing himself, he cautiously reached for the next step.
So far so good. He continued in this fashion until he was about a third of the way down; then he heard the unmistakable sound of a door being opened and then shut. He dared to look behind him up at the stairway entry from whence he had come, and wasn't very reassured when he saw the advancing, flickering light from a lantern casting a glow on the opposite wall as it was being carried along. He froze again, his heart pounding. The light got brighter and illumined the entryway even more as the bearer of the lantern moved closer to his destination, which Fenix hoped was the privies up there.
Then the light receded from the entryway as the person got to the privy, Fenix noted. Still not daring to move though, he heard the unmistakable sound of someone urinating in a bucket. This caused him to think of the worst chores they had: cleaning the privies. The thought disgusted him, but the light was coming back now, increasing in brightness in the entryway and on the wall behind it as the one who relieved himself walked back to his bedroom. But, he evidently had changed his mind as to his destination because the light only became brighter as he came closer to the top of the stairs. Fenix crouched down and tried to be still as possible. Then he saw someone's barefoot come down on the first step! It paused there for a brief time. Fenix could hardly contain his sense of panic. He tried to breathe quietly. He really did not wish to be discovered of course, while in such a strange position on the stairs and without his pajamas on. Not only would there be some awkward explaining to do, but he knew that whoever it was would feel compelled to tell Aunt Tildy; or he would have to think of a way to bribe that person into silence. Then, miraculously, the lone foot retreated! Evidently he had decided not to come downstairs after all and then the light dimmed down as he walked back to his bedroom. Fenix attempted to breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
The navigation of the rest of the stairway was thankfully without event; though he had to struggle to maintain the silence and the caution to insure it. The whole ordeal was beginning to cause an almost unbearable tension headache. At the bottom of the stairway now, he looked around in the moonlit 'living room' and saw the books on the wall to his left along with an imposing bust of Pallas on a nearby pedestal. In the moonlight, the bust of the Greek Titan looked kind of spooky with the pattern of shading and light on it, causing it to appear almost sinister. Fenix tried not to look at it as he carefully tread across the floor to reach the hallway straight ahead. Down the hallway there were two doors: the door to his left led to the dining hall and the door to his right led to the kitchen and then to his destination, the back storage room. He stepped carefully again as he went along. It seemed almost an eternity before he reached the door. He opened it and stepped softly into the kitchen and closed the door quietly behind him. Almost there! Have to be careful not to get too excited now, he silently reminded himself. It was easy to imagine being a burglar as he slowly moved on; yet besides being immoral, he didn't think he could endure the sheer agony of trying to be silent. Even just the thought of being caught assured him he wasn't cut out for that kind of life.
About three fourths of his way through the kitchen he stepped on something with a loud crunch! He froze; the sheer volume and the abruptness of the sound, nearly gave him a heart attack. Surely, Aunt Tildy would hear that, he thought with a high sense of alarm. With his heart in his throat, he paused. He knew Aunt Tildys' bedroom was at the end of that hallway where he had come from. A few anxious moments passed. He had luck with him tonight, evidently. It seemed that she didn't hear the noise after all, so now he walked a little more quickly, entered the gloomy and cobwebbed storage room, then felt around for the door which led outside. Another anxious moment, and he didn't even think of this when forming his plan, he tested to see if the door was locked. If it was, he figured he would have to abandon his audacious plan. At first it seemed that it might be, then it gave way without too much of a ruckus. I'm finally out, he thought gleefully. Well, not quite yet.
The first thing he noticed when he stepped out the storage room door was the dazzling brilliance of the full moon. He felt a magical sense of awe, almost feeling like he had stepped into some other fabulous realm. The brilliant orb was at the height of its' ascension, with the stars and the night-time sky forming a nice backdrop for it. He felt quite stirred by all of this and began forming poetic phrases in his mind as he moved along eastwards to the destination of the tree. I could compose a story too, he thought spontaneously as he walked along. He had almost forgotten about climbing the tree. It was, perhaps, about a couple of miles away. He listened to the pleasant sounds of the crickets and the toads in the background, and there were even a couple of fireflies flitting about.
He clambered over more hills and down winding paths, and then, there it was. He was standing on the hill looking down at the top of the feared tree as it loomed in his vision. He continued staring at it, and he felt as if it were some kind of mythic beast waiting for some audacious, yet daft person to be so foolish as to try and conquer it. He stood in awe and then figured he might as well get on with it. Onward to my doom, he thought with an audible sigh. Nevertheless he plodded on and finally arrived at the base of the tree. It appeared to him as bigger and taller than it was before. He looked up at the footholds starting at the base of the tree. There were more of them and they were arranged so that you would step on one then reach upward to grasp another one, and so on until you reached the branches which were at least ten feet up from the base of the tree. He steeled himself, then stepped on the first foothold, then reached up for the next one. He felt a queer thrill as he realized he was actually going to do this.
