Eddy had every right to believe he was in for a sleepless night that night. He simply couldn’t stop that kiss from replaying over and over in his head. But somewhere amid the endless wind and rewind, his daydreams swapped places with night dreams. But if he had dreamed at all that night he had no recollection of it, such was the blissful slumber that overtook him.
When he did finally stir the next morning it was only because of the morning sun streaking into the room, playing bright orange across the inside of his eyelids. Placing his left hand over both eyes (his right hand was still resting on Mr Tree), Eddy persuaded them to open and then gradually pulled his finger canopy away.
The first thing Eddy saw, the first thing that literally invaded his senses, made him wonder whether he had died and gone to heaven.
‘Reagan! Reagan! REAGAN!’
Where is she?
Reagan came flying into her bedroom, toothbrush in her hand.
‘What’s the problem?’
‘Come h-here, quick.’
‘Eddy, it’s almost time for . . .’
‘N-no time for school. Come quick. NOW!’
Reagan must have seen something in Eddy’s eyes, something that was more than a fifteen-year-old boy’s games, because she tossed the toothbrush onto her bed and was out the window faster than ever before. Even that wasn’t quite fast enough for Eddy. He was standing at his window, ready to drag her in as soon as she got within grasp.
‘Hold on, hold on,’ said Reagan, worried that his sudden bout of excitement would send her flying to the ground below. ‘Move over so I can fit in.’
Ducking her head so she could squeeze through the window, Reagan planted her feet on the floor and stood tall to see what all the fuss was about.
‘What? . . . Oh my God, Eddy! It’s beautiful!’
And indeed it was.
Reagan stared in amazement around the room, unable to fully comprehend what she saw. Every bit of Mr Tree, every square inch, was covered by an explosion of pink-and-white blossoms. Half the room seemed to glow with their soft light. Hardly an inch of the far wall was left untouched, and the room was filled with intoxicating sweetness.
Not knowing quite whether to laugh or cry, all Reagan could ask was ‘How?’
‘I d-don’t know. It just ha-happened.’
Both Eddy and Reagan simply stood hand in hand, mesmerised, while the soft haze of falling pollen settled silently on their cheeks.
The bedroom door flew open as though in a storm but neither Eddy nor Reagan so much as glanced sideways.
‘What’s all the noi—’ She stopped herself. Grandma Daisy stood frozen, her mouth hanging slightly open, hands poised in front of her as though ready to clutch at any explanation that might present itself.
‘Isn’t it b-beautiful, Grandma Daisy?’
Nothing. No response whatsoever.
‘Grandma Daisy?’ Eddy reached over and gently touched her arm. She looked down at her grandson, an awestruck expression on her face.
‘Grandma,’ said Eddy quietly, ‘this is Grandpa’s tree and he loves you very much.’
Grandma Daisy seemed paralyzed. She searched Eddy’s face, for what exactly he didn’t know, and then looked back at the brilliant garden of blossoms. She must have stood there like that for at least a minute while Eddy and Reagan watched on.
‘No.’ Grandma Daisy didn’t say it like she usually said that word. It was more like she was trying to answer a question of herself – one she didn’t know how to ask. ‘No.’
‘It’s okay, Grandma Daisy,’ said Eddy.
She stared back down at Eddy’s peaceful face and, for the first time in Eddy’s living memory, he watched patiently as a single tear cascaded down her cheek. Then something about her changed, something so fundamental it changed even the way she stood. Right before Eddy’s watchful eyes her stoic manner, her tightly wound muscles (even the ones below her eyes) appeared to soften, to relax and, Eddy knew, to forgive.
Another lonely tear slipped down her cheek and now some focus came back into her gaze. Not her old ‘I dare you to’ focus but something much gentler.
‘I’m sorry, Eddy. I’m so sorry.’ Grandma Daisy buckled at the knees, landing heavily on the same carpet she had once littered with the torn remnants of Mr Tree. Her tears were coming thick and fast now and Eddy knelt down beside her.
‘What have I done?’
‘Do we have to get rid of it?’ asked Eddy quietly.
Grandma Daisy looked at him, her face doused with guilt and self-loathing. Eddy hated seeing that in her eyes. She didn’t deserve to beat herself up like this, he knew that now.
‘I don’t understand it, Eddy,’ she cried. ‘I didn’t understand you.’
Eddy gestured at Mr Tree. ‘I d-don’t understand it all either, Grandma. But it’s amazing.’
His eyes drank in Mr Tree and it was impossible to deny the truth. ‘Amazing’ wasn’t even the start of it.
‘M-maybe we’re not supposed to understand it all,’ continued Eddy. ‘I just know that Mr Tree makes good things happen. Really good things. I feel it, Grandma. I feel it light up in my head. It’s so beautiful.’
Eddy felt his own tears channel down his cheek and drip from his chin. Not sad tears, contented ones.
Grandma Daisy just kept staring back at him, her body completely limp as she surrendered to his words.
‘Mr Tree’s better now. Better than he’s ever been. Without you I wouldn’t have this.’ Eddy nodded around his little bedroom. The only piece of the world he really knew. He nodded at Mr Tree, who was so much more than a piece of wood. It had become his doorway to so many new and wonderful things. He nodded at Reagan, his friend, his confidant. ‘Today I am the l-luckiest person in the world.’