The Creaking Tree House Floor

The Creaking Tree House Floor

By Heather Ann Martinez

After rounds of needles, experimental treatments, new drug trials and thickets of paperwork, Wyatt and Lilly moved back to their hometown. Lilly’s father built a tree house in the west end of their property well over thirty years earlier. It was the most shaded area of where she had grown up, and it was here that she and Wyatt first met. With their luggage and prescriptions sitting in paper bags on the stoop of Lilly’s family home, they raced to the tree house realizing that they were not as young as they used to be. Wyatt was almost completely out of breath by the time he reached the trunk of the tree. He fell on the grass and coughed. Lilly was slightly winded but still laughing at the thought of racing to the place they first laid eyes on one another so long ago. The groundskeeper told Lilly he kept the tree house up and restored flooring and ceiling planks as needed. The groundskeeper always joked that someone could live in the tree house. It had mosquito netting over the windows and door.

The tree house did not have any unwanted inhabitants over the years. It was thoroughly cleaned and maintained during the summer months as Lilly’s family requested. The family home and property were in a trust Lilly’s parents set up before they passed away years earlier. Now that Lilly’s brother Vern passed away, Lilly inherited the property alone. Her son did not want anything to do with it. Although he cared very deeply for Lilly, her son was never interested in Lilly’s past. He couldn’t tell you his uncle’s name or what nationality he was. Lilly only cared that he look after her granddaughter. She didn’t bring up anything about her life before having him as she knew he didn’t care to know. She later told Wyatt it wasn’t worth it. Lilly said she kept photographs and letters and diaries of her childhood in a trunk that had wheels but she didn’t know what happened to the trunk after she had her son. Her son’s father left her unexpectedly and Lilly’s father helped her as much as possible. He and Lilly’s mother safeguarded all of Lilly’s memories but died before they could tell her where they left them. Lilly had torn apart the attic of the family house and found a few treasures she shared with Vern.

Wyatt sat up looking at the tree house. He remembered thinking how big it was when he was younger. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. Wyatt knew Lilly wasn’t going to last more than a couple of hours before she would need her medication and a nap. He told Lilly he had never seen a tree house before seeing hers. He asked her if she remembered the first question she ever asked him:

“I asked you how much you would give me for a tour of my tree palace.” Lilly said.

“You were always an opportunist. I really believed there was a whole palace in there. You said there was magic that allowed for rooms to appear once you were inside. Let’s have a look. Maybe there’s some magic left in those nails in the tree.”

He started climbing up the ladder not that it was a great height since Wyatt stood at six foot four inches. Lilly was a foot shorter than him. The climb was a little more challenging for her but she laughed and reminded Wyatt of all the times they brought frogs from the creek to the tree house and captured flies to feed them. When they reached the tree house door, Lilly opened it. The sun was bright and she could see the table and chairs her father had placed in the center of the tree house. Vern’s dart board and a couple of darts were on one wall. There were drawing of treasure maps, tree house rules and homework assignments on the other walls. Wyatt pointed out where the wood roof had been replaced and remarked how well intact it was for being a page out of their history books. Lilly stepped inside. Wyatt crawled to the table and sat cross legged on the floor. Lilly walked across the tree house and heard a creaking sound.

“Do you hear that?” Lilly asked.

“Yes, this tree house is old Lilly. It has creaking in its joints like I do in my knees.” Wyatt assured her.

“No, it is not just that. There is something underneath the floorboards. I can feel it here and here.”

Wyatt stretched his hands over to where Lilly was straddling her legs. Something gave way as Wyatt touched the floor boards. Wyatt moved four floor boards revealing Lilly’s trunk. Lilly smiled. She recognized the trunk immediately and hugged Wyatt’s neck. She opened the trunk and a letter sat on top of Lilly’s photographs and diaries. She could tell her father wrote the letter. He had excellent handwriting unlike Lilly’s mother.

“You read it Wyatt. I don’t know what Daddy could have said and why he left the trunk here.” Lilly pushed the letter into Wyatt’s hand.

Wyatt began to read it:

My Dear Lilly,

If you are reading this, it means your mother and I are gone. We left your trunk in the place you spent your childhood afternoons. We had to bribe you to come home for dinner almost every evening. You were happiest most in these walls I put here for you and Vern to play in. I regret that I didn’t tell you how much I enjoyed watching you and Vern grow up in the tree house. It served as your fort, your light- house, your palace, but it served most importantly as where you met the man you should have always been with. It was here that you met Wyatt Randolph Gates. I tried never to intrude on your love life Lilly. I didn’t say anything about the man that fathered your son before and I won’t waste lines on a page for that loser. Wyatt helped me build the balcony around the tree house. I knew he was a determined young man at a young age and had many conversations with him over the years. His wife died a year ago and I think it would be wonderful if you could go exploring with Wyatt by the creek again but please do not bring home any more frogs!

If either you or Wyatt don’t believe how intertwined your lives have been, take a second look through this box. You won’t find a picture of one of you without the other. Granted, there are pictures of Wyatt’s late wife too and Vern. Almost all of your games, maps, treasure and trinkets from flea markets you made or bought with Wyatt. You even kept the coins you charged him the first time you met and wanted to take a tour of your tree palace.

I want you to find happiness again, sweetheart. Take another chance on love.

With Love,

Daddy

Wyatt and Lilly did just that. They looked at every photograph, every diary entry and game they made up together. Lilly’s father had categorized and date stamped each of them. They spent the next several hours of that summer afternoon reminiscing on their past and planning their future sitting cross legged on the creaking tree house floor.