Treehugger

Paul took a deep breath; he wasn't going to get this matter out of his life any time soon from the looks of things. The forlorn look on Veronica's face made him angry.

"Don't give up! Don't ever give up!" he shouted. Paul clenched his fists and breathed deeply until he calmed. "Sorry. I've had a rough time recently."

"And now you're fighting to save my tree."

"Our tree," he said without thinking. "Look, we have to start small. Maybe this whole thing gets settled by talking to a nice old woman at town hall. She throws out some paperwork and poof, the tree is saved. If that doesn't work we start working our way up."

"So we should go to town hall and talk to someone there?" Veronica seemed more hopeful.

Paul nodded.

She stood, her chair legs scraping along the floor. "Great! Let's go!"

His mouth dropped open as she began to scoop papers back into her satchel. "Veronica, it's after nine on a weeknight. You don't really expect anyone to be at town hall, do you?"

"Well, tomorrow morning then," she replied immediately. "We can walk into town and get this all fixed, and be back by lunchtime."

"Walk? It's got to be at least eight kilometres! We'll just drive. I can pick you up about nine in the morning..." The statement had turned into a question as he spoke. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow."

"It's going to be very warm and sunny," Veronica stated with absolute confidence. "But we can drive in to town if you wish. Should I wear something different?"

"Excuse me?"

"Will this attire be appropriate?"

Did she expect him to take her out to lunch afterwards, he wondered? "Maybe you should just wear what you normally wear to work. That'll look officious, and maybe it'll intimidate the municipal employees. Scared government employees do more work for the public."

She nodded her head and gave him a warm smile. "I'm glad I met you Paul Cheevers. I just know you're going to help save my tree."

She was out the door in a blink of an eye, several seconds before he remembered it was pitch-black under the overcast night sky. He flipped the switch to turn on the porch light and then stepped outside, but the strange brunette was nowhere to be seen.

"Veronica? I can give you a lift home. Veronica?" he called out.

"It's all right," she said from somewhere near the road. "I know exactly where I'm going. And there's nothing out here that's going to hurt me. See you in the morning, Paul."

He listened to the fading sound of her shoes on the gravel shoulder and then went back inside, swatting a few mosquitoes that tried to sneak in as he closed the door. While washing his dishes he found himself shaking his head at her strange behaviour. He'd never met anyone like her. Rachel would have liked her...

Even though she hadn't given him her last name, he had a pretty good idea where she lived. The first two places travelling west were family dwellings, with all the evidence of the presence of children scattered across the yards. The third place was either Veronica's or the house of someone who'd be able to give him her address. As he pulled onto the gravel drive he spied the unusual woman walking amongst some trees, deep in thought.

He pulled up to the large farmhouse, where the drive widened enough for a vehicle to turn about easily. Veronica was wearing a brown vest over a white blouse. Her matching brown slacks fit her rather snugly over her hips and round bottom. Paul blinked his eyes and then gave the horn a quick push.

Veronica looked up and walked casually over to the truck. She stopped in front of the truck and stared at it, tilting her head slightly. He waved her in to the passenger side.

"Sorry if I'm a little late," he apologized as she took a minute to adjust her seat belt.

"Are you late?"

"Well, you seemed to be waiting there for me."

"Oh, I really don't have any idea what time it is." She looked at the dashboard, and then pointed with her finger. "Why it's nine oh five! You're right on time, Paul," she said, as the seatbelt finally clicked. "I'll have to learn to pay more attention to clocks."

On the way into town she amazed Paul with her knowledge of the natural history of the area. He wondered if one of her parents had been a historian, but they pulled into the town hall parking lot before he thought to ask her.

They stepped out of the truck and squinted their eyes in the bright sunshine. "So if law doesn't work out for you I guess you've got a future in meteorology."

She gave him an enigmatic smile in response.

They entered the building, received directions to the public works department and, after turning down a wrong corridor once, found themselves in front of a reception desk. No-one was there to greet them, although they could both hear noises that indicated at least one of the cubicles nearby was inhabited.

"So, what do we do now Paul?" Veronica asked in a normal tone. Paul wished she had spoken more quietly, but didn't know why.

"Hello?" called out a woman's voice. Shortly, a small woman in her mid-fifties approached them. "Can I help you?"

"I want to save my tree," announced Veronica.

"Excuse us, ma'am," began Paul. "There's a tree on my property that some town workers came to cut down. I chased them off, but I'd like to find out why they think they need to cut it down and why they think they have the right to come on to my property without my permission." The older woman looked a little worried. "You can understand this has taken the two of us quite by surprise, and we'd like to get everything sorted out as quickly as possible."

"Ah." The older woman arched an eyebrow. "Maybe you should speak to Francis. Francis Cable is responsible for things like that, and he probably marked this young lady's tree down as a public danger."

"Public danger?" asked Veronica with a rising voice. Paul put his hand on her arm to urge her to stay calm.

The grey-haired woman stared at Paul's hand until he removed it from his companion's arm. Then she motioned for the two to follow her. The cubicles were laid out in two rows, and they were led to the second last and then introduced to a man of about Paul's age who wore jeans and a t-shirt.

"And what can I do for you two?" Francis asked with a friendly smile, as the older woman left.

Paul put his hand on Veronica's arm as she stepped forward. "There's a tree on my property that's mistakenly been chosen to be cut down..."

"Ah, yes. I was told you might be in. Oh, there's no mistake sir. That tree is very old and a great danger to vehicles and pedestrians. It could fall over at any time." He sat forward and seemed very earnest.

Veronica stepped in front of Paul. "There's nothing wrong with that tree! It could stand for another hundred years if you just left it alone!"

Paul reached out and took Veronica's hand, which calmed her but did not alter her stare.

"Now, look here ma'am. I have to look out for potential dangers to vehicles and pedestrians all over this region. That tree might not fall for six months, but when it does it's large enough to kill someone. All you have to do is plant a new one." The man stood, looming over both Veronica and Paul.

"You can't just cut it down and replace it! We need that oak! Just undue the order to cut it down!"

"Now you look here, ma'am! I work damn hard at this job and I know what I'm doing!" His smile had disappeared. "And I don't appreciate busybodies trying to tell me my job. That tree was diseased and damaged. Now if you don't want me to cut down every God damned tree on your property you'd better hit the road right now."

Paul could feel his back tightening. He began to pull his companion back so he could step up to the rude civic worker when he spied people in neighbouring cubicles peering over the dividers.

"We'd best leave, Veronica." She shot him a defiant look. He tightened his grip on her hand. "There's nothing that can be done here," he said pointedly.

Her eyes narrowed and then opened wide. She squeezed his hand in hers and the two turned and left. As they walked by the reception desk the older woman shook her head sadly.

Once they were outside the building Veronica turned on him. "Why did you give up so easily?"

"Are you serious?" Paul rolled his eyes. "He was digging in, and we were past the point where sweet-talk was going to save that oak. Another few minutes in there and the police would have come in to take us away to the hoosegow!"

Her shoulders slowly rose and fell as she took a deep breath and then released it. "You're right, Paul. I should have seen that. But what can we do now?"

"I don't know. Let's talk about it over brunch."

She nodded in acceptance of his suggestion, and they walked to a nearby strip mall. Finding a cozy restaurant, they entered, found an empty table, ordered, and began eating. Once conversation did begin they avoided the main issue. Veronica was befuddled at the idea of someone being incompetent and ignorant but pretending to be otherwise. Paul remembered having encountered such people before; they were always the most defensive about the areas they were the least confident in.

They each had a coffee and a cookie for dessert, while Paul tried to pry more personal information from Veronica. She seemed so knowledgeable about some things, but so ignorant about simple everyday things. The history of the area was an open book to her, but she knew nothing of the people and families who lived near town.

After they finished their meal the waitress began to frequent their table. Paul asked for the bill, and once it was brought he pulled out his wallet and dropped his credit card on top of it. Veronica followed the motion with her eyes. Then she reached into a pocket and pulled out her own credit card and placed it atop his.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean, Paul?"

"Lunch is on me." He picked up her card and offered it back to her.

She gave him a confused look but tucked the card back into her vest pocket. She sipped her coffee as the waitress left with Paul's credit card and then quickly returned. Paul accepted his card when the young lady offered it back to him. Veronica watched with a raised eyebrow.

"So, are you ready to go?"

She nodded in response. "But I don't know what our next step is. You said we could work our way up. Who's next?"

"Maybe a town or regional councillor," he replied as they walked back to his truck. "I'll have to look into this. Could you do some research on this as well? Your expertise as a lawyer may give you some insight into who we should meet with." He hesitated, allowing both of them enough time to get seated in the truck. "I also thought since you grew up here that you might have some connections you could use."

"Oh, I don't have any connections except you, Paul. You're the only one I really know."

Paul blinked his eyes and pulled out on to the street. "Sorry, I thought you said you're living in your family home - you know, where you grew up?"

"Oh, I am," she responded slowly, as if suddenly remembering. "I do know quite a few people, but none of them are connected with the oak tree. I'm afraid it's just the two of us, Paul."

They agreed to do what research they could on their own and then meet at Veronica's after dinner. Believing she regularly ate late, Paul didn't arrive until about nine.

Veronica opened the door before he could raise his hand to knock. She wore slacks that ended just below her knees, and a loose and sleeveless blouse with a flower print. Her feet were bare.

"Come in!" She turned away, walked from the entryway into a larger room and then disappeared from his view. "I've had some wonderful luck with my research, Paul," she called out from behind a wall.

Paul kicked off his shoes and peered after her. Her front door had opened into a small two-walled 'closet', which led into a cozy living room filled with an assortment of furnishings and keepsakes. It looked as if Veronica's parents had been almost-hoarders, there was even an old television, complete with a rabbit ears antenna, sitting unused in the corner.

"Uhm, nice place." His eyes went over the room, searching for clues as to why she behaved so unusually. There was a doorway on the wall to his left that looked to lead into a small dining room. Veronica sat upon an old couch and there was a laptop on the coffee table in front of her. Both the couch and the table had white coverings that were yellowing with age. Much of the furniture here was protected by cloth coverings of various types. It reminded him of visiting his grandparent's house when he was very young.

Veronica looked about the room, as if she had never really looked at it before. "It is nice, isn't it? It feels - homey. Strange that it should feel that way..."

"Why is that so strange? You grew up here."

"Well, yes I did." She hesitated, running her hand over the arm of the couch thoughtfully. "I was kissed on this couch, so many years ago. And that cabinet..." she stood and walked over to a glass-walled cabinet that was recessed into a wall. "This cabinet...my father built it for me - for my dolls." She opened the glass and reached in to caress the cheek of a doll that was slouching in its stand. "I thought dolls would be soft...oh, wait! This doll's porcelain. Some of the others were soft..."

Paul didn't know what to say.

Suddenly Veronica withdrew her hand. "But we have work to do. I must save my tree, and I don't have any time to examine these memories." She closed the glass doors, stared at the dolls for a few seconds and then went back and sat down in front of her laptop.

Paul looked around for a seat. There were a couple of chairs but they were occupied by storage boxes. He turned to his hostess, and she nodded for him to sit on the couch beside her.

"So," she began as he sat and set his papers on the coffee table, "I've drawn up a list of people in power in this region, based upon their ranking in the political hierarchy. What do you think?"

Paul surveyed the list. "It's very complete. I don't think you needed to put the Prime Minister on it."

"But he represents the highest authority here!"

"Well, our head of state is the Governor General. But I don't think that either he or the Prime Minister is going to get involved with saving a tree."

"Oh!" Her face fell, then she brightened up again. "You mean they're too busy to represent a tree - they probably spend time protecting forests and leave their subordinates to deal with individual cases."

Paul gave her a long look.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Look, let's just take a number of names off this list. Who's that under the Prime Minister?"

Veronica picked up a pair of glasses and carefully slid them on, using both hands to do so. "The Environment Minister."

Paul sighed. "I honestly don't think any of them are going to give two hoots about a tree. Here," he pointed at the screen, "remove all the names above this person. He's our town councillor."

"But that only leaves us with four people," she pouted.

Paul put his hand on her arm. "I wish it could be otherwise, but provincial and federal politicians just aren't going to do anything about a single tree. Unless you know one of them personally, that is..."

She stared at him and seemed to think for several seconds. "Nope, I've never met any of them." She deleted most of the names from the list. "So, I guess our next step is Melinda Bright."

"And who in the world is Melinda Bright?"

"She's Francis Cable's supervisor. Then there's Sudista Singh; she's Francis Cable's manager. Then there's the Director of Public Works, and finally the town councillor."

"Well, you can scratch Director Stewart Cable's name off the list. Perhaps it's best if we go straight to the town councillor. He's an elected official and might be more amenable to what we want."

"Why don't we go through them one by one?" she asked with genuine ignorance.

"I suspect the Cables are related, in fact one probably has his job because of the other. They'll likely stick together and prevent the supervisor and manager from helping us, assuming that either Melinda or Sudista would want to. Henry Pike is either the type of politician who knows the game, in which case we can threaten him with negative publicity, or he's an honest man trying to serve the public, in which case we can appeal to his better nature."

Veronica clasped one of Paul's hands in both of hers. "Do you think he'll help us save the oak tree?"

"We can hope. But don't think this is a sure thing. We're just two taxpayers trying to defend our rights against the local government. The Americans have a saying: you can't fight city hall. Well, there's a lot of truth to that."

"We'll go down to town hall together, the first thing in the morning, and talk to him!"

"Whoa! Tomorrow's Saturday, so I doubt he'll be there. I'm sure there's some way to reach him on a weekend. He must have a business or something where we can ask about him." Paul picked up his papers and showed them to Veronica. "I happened to find his home address and the law firm that he owns in town. We can go to his office tomorrow morning. Do we need an appointment to go to a lawyer's office, or can we just show up?"

Veronica stared at him and tilted her head. After a couple of seconds, "He should be willing to see me without an appointment if I show his secretary my credentials. I can't imagine he'd be very busy in a small town."

Paul sat back. "That's settled then. I can pick you up at nine thirty, if that's okay with you." He sat forward, on the edge of the couch. "I guess I'll be going, now that we have a plan for tomorrow."

Veronica held his hand in hers. "Wait, just a second please." She had a faraway look in her eyes, and then suddenly became focussed once again. "We should have a toast - to a successful partnership."

She jumped up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, her pants hugging her behind tightly. He followed her with his eyes and swallowed. Her blouse had two strings on the back, but they were undone, leaving half her back open to his view.

"Maybe I should be going, Veronica." Feeling a little out of place, he stood and began to search his pockets for his keys.

She returned quickly with a bottle of wine in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. "But we were going to toast to our success!"

"I..." He sat back down. Veronica smiled happily.

She set the bottle down and pulled a corkscrew out of her back pocket. "Do you have any idea how to work one of these? I seem to remember it being rather difficult."

He held out his hand for the tool, then managed to not embarrass himself as he removed the cork from the bottle. He poured out a quarter glass for each of them and then waited for a comment from Veronica. No comment was forthcoming.

They tapped glasses gently and then sipped. Paul was surprised; the wine seemed to be a very ordinary white. Veronica licked her lips and opened her eyes in surprise.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No. Well, it doesn't taste as good as some of the other things I've been trying, but it does have an odd sort of aftertaste and I feel a warm feeling building inside me here." She pointed directly between her breasts, pushing in her shirt and causing her chest to be better displayed to Paul's unintentional glance. "Is that normal?"

"You're a teetotaler? Why do you have wine here if you don't drink alcohol?"

"Oh, that's alcohol...oh, yes! I do drink alcohol. Is it fermented grapes?"

"Uhm, yeah. Maybe. Look, are you all right?" He decided to bite the bullet. "Sometimes you act a little - different."

"Oh." Her face fell. She set her glass down and turned slightly away from him. "I'm glad you told me. I've been trying so hard to do everything correctly, but it's all just so complicated. I don't know if I can explain it to you, Paul."