Stella and The Cherry Tree

Stella and The Cherry Tree



How am I ever going to get out of here? Worse, am I ever? I have just been given a new Dad. Another new Dad. And a new name. Another new name. And my real dad and my real name are now a secret. A shadow, a ghost. I’m only ten and I’ve already been three people. Stella Mack, Stella Brogan and now Stella Dice. I gotta get out of here.

New daddy has a temper, a bad temper and he yells a lot. When yelling doesn’t work, he slaps a lot. And when slapping doesn’t work, well…you know… a little kicking and stomping comes into play. New daddy is rich, and handsome, but he’s mean, just plain mean. Not to Mom. He’s never mean to mom. Momma’s pretty. Fashion model pretty. Like in the magazines. She has a smile that lights up a room. Maybe even the world. Mine anyway. But she is his prize now. I’m just along for the ride. He didn’t want me, but I came with the deal and that makes him mad. Why does she keep doing this? I hate him. How am I ever going to get out of here?

Everything in my new world is beautiful. On the outside. My bedroom, so perfect. It’s everything a young girl could want. A ballet room, only I’m anything but a ballerina. An Easy Bake Kitchen. Seriously? A new iPhone, a color tv, a desk, all my books in a tall, Italian Provincial bookcase and my very own bathroom. My balcony looks out over the great expanse of country club green that is our back yard. My room is pretty much a dream room. But it’s not my dream and my life, my life is a nightmare. One of those beautiful on the outside, ugly on the inside, well-kept secrets in town. I hate it and I hate calling him Daddy. All I want is OUT.

I don’t know why it takes me so long to figure it out. When it happens, it happens in a flash. I’m huddled in front of my tv set in the middle of the night. Old movies are one of my escapes. Books and old movies. But I am tired of the silent escape they provide. Really tired of it. The walls are closing in on me and so is the anger and the violence and that awful smell of stale booze in the morning.

“Stella, Stella, Stella…” the guy on the television cries out. He is so desperate. He is screaming up to Stella’s balcony as if she is the only person that matters. I start crying, but I am crying out for my freedom. I’m crying out because I don’t seem to matter at all. And then it hits me. I look out onto my balcony at the tree. The giant cherry tree that towers over it. Why hadn’t I noticed her, why hadn’t I seen her, why hadn’t I acted before now? I grab my flashlight and run out into the night. I shine the light down through the branches, along the trunk to the ground. This is it. The Holy Grail of Escapes.

But what if…is the first thing to cross my mind. Fear. What if, I get caught? So what? How much worse could it be than the prison I’m already in? It couldn’t be. I look up at the dark sky above me. It is a new moon night. Just a slice of light in the sky. I find comfort in the night sky. If anyone’s up there, I whisper, help me. Please, please help me do this.

I rip off my pajamas, and stuff my flashlight in the back pocket of my Levis. I always have my Levis on under my pjs. I call them my just-in-case pants. Just in case I have to make a break for it. And tonight, tonight is the night I am shifting gears. Down the tree I go. Onto my bike I fly. Out the gate, down the road, into the town and I am FREE. The wind in my face feels like heaven.

I ride all night. Breathing in the cool, crisp air of freedom. I cover every block in this new town. Every square inch of it really. I suck it in. Get to know it. The movie theater, the mall, the little AM/PM just down the way. My new school, the Little League Baseball field. The park with all the hiking trails, the skating rink, the pool and the library! The bus station. It’s all here. It’s my town now. No matter what they call me or where I came from or how I’d gotten here, I, me, Stella. I am here now.

I barely notice morning light coming on as I head home. I’m filled with the excitement of my newfound freedom. Now my adventures can be real. No one will know where I went or what I did in the night. It didn’t occur to me that everything was closed at night. It didn’t seem to matter. All that mattered was the escape hatch and the possibilities. As I parked my bike and started shimmying up the tree, I saw the light in mom’s room go on. My heart stops. My worst nightmare was about to come true. I look up at the balcony expecting him to be peering down at me. Locked and loaded. But he isn’t. I sit still in the branches. Very still. Finally, the light goes out. Whew. Maybe just an early morning whiz. I start shimmying up again. Again, the light goes on. I hear my mother call out to him. “You okay in there, hon?”

“Yeah, I’m okay just a little touch of the flu. Go back to sleep.”

Flu?! I almost blurt out. Hah. More like the nasty, putrid puking that comes with too much gin. How does she stand it? Why does she? My happy high from my new found freedom starts to fade. I don’t want to lose it. I refuse to lose it. I start shimmying up the tree again until I reach the top and climb over the ledge. I made it. I grab my pajamas, pull them on over my Levis, and crawl back into my bed. I feel different. Taller. Bigger. Full of myself. I rolled the dice, and I found a way out. That makes me grin. A snotty, mean little I won kind of grin. I rolled the dice and won. A reckoning is coming now, and I can feel it.