Daisy's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Daisy walked the length of the street with her notebook, checking every tree for a clubhouse. She had drawn the plan three times already: a treehouse big enough for six kids, with a rope ladder and a window facing the sunset. She was seven, and she had counted seven kids on her block. That felt like a sign. The problem was the trees. The maple by the mailbox was skinny. The one in front of the blue house had a split trunk. The oak two doors down looked strong, but a squirrel had chewed a hole near the base, and her mom said that meant rot. Daisy closed her notebook. Without a tree, the clubhouse was just a drawing. She walked to the end of the street where nobody went. On the corner sat an old boarded-up building with cracked bricks and a caved-in porch. Behind it, rising over the roof, was a tree so tall Daisy had to tilt her head back to see the top. The trunk was wider than her arms could reach. Thick branches spread out like arms holding up the sky. Daisy ran around the fence to get closer. The tree stood in the weedy lot behind the empty building. She pressed her hand against the bark. It was warm. It was real. It was perfect. "You're on private property." Daisy spun around. A woman stood at the gap in the fence with a leather folder tucked under one arm. Her pearls sat crooked from the walk over. She wore a cream blazer and loafers that did not belong in a weedy lot. Daisy had seen her before, knocking on doors about lawn heights and trash cans. Her mom called her the Board lady and always sighed after. "I'm Patricia Thornwood," the woman said. "President of the homeowners board. And you are trespassing." "I just wanted to look at the tree," Daisy said. She held up her notebook like proof. "I'm going to build a clubhouse. For all the kids on the street. This tree is the only one strong enough." Patricia looked at the tree. She looked at Daisy. She opened her folder and clicked a pen. "This lot is owned by the association," she said. "Which means it's owned by me, in the sense that matters. No one builds anything here without a written proposal. Signed. Reviewed. Voted on." "Can I make one?" Patricia's pen stopped. She studied Daisy over her glasses. "You can submit a proposal like anyone else. The next board meeting is Thursday." She tore a page from the folder and held it out. "Fill this in. Every line. If a single line is blank, I throw it out." Daisy took the paper. Her hands were shaking a little. The tree was still there behind her, huge and waiting. She had found it. Now she had four days to convince a woman in loafers to let her keep it.