“No trees, no bath! No trees, no bath! No trees, no bath!” There were over twenty of us chanting and marching in unison. Almost every kid in Cedar Grove had come out to protest the tree-climbing bylaw— and some of them, like Peter, hadn’t even been at the meeting. A few of them even brought friends. Sarah was at the front helping the Cedar Grove Girly-Girls lead the chant. Not that we needed any help.
We were loud.
We were also very visible.
Michael had found a bunch of picket signs in his garage. The night before, we’d covered the old blue and white slogans and replaced them with our own.
The new signs read, Trees are meant for climbing and If we can’t climb, we won’t bathe and No More Rules. On Michael’s sign, he’d written the word RULES in the middle of a big red circle with a line through it. Like the No Smoking signs you see all over the place. Tyler’s sign was the same except that, instead of RULES, he’d drawn a bathtub in the middle of the circle. He was really into the no-bathing thing.
On my sign the words Need to be free to climb a tree were written in bright green. I held it high and marched at the back, making sure everyone stayed in line. Cedar Grove isn’t very big, so we made the same loop over and over again.
It wasn’t long before we started to get some attention.
Mrs. Leary leaned out her window and yelled, “I can’t hear Coronation Street!” Then she added, “There are bylaws in Cedar Grove, you know!” Of course, that made us all laugh. She obviously had no idea what we were doing. Poor old Mrs. Leary. Had she ever been a kid? It was hard to imagine. We moved quickly past her house.
Dad stood at the corner with a couple of the other parents, drinking coffee. He smiled as we marched by. When I’d told him about the tree-climbing protest, he’d gone on and on about how proud he was of me and about how much he’d admired the hippie protesters he grew up with. He always wanted to join them, but he never had the time to do anything but play hockey.
Mom wasn’t exactly supportive of the protest, but she said it was good that I was doing something. Lucky for me, she was at an engineering conference, so I didn’t have to deal with her disapproval.
Our message was obviously being heard by some residents of Cedar Grove, but I hadn’t seen Ms. Matheson or anyone else I recognized from the Neighborhood Council. I started getting a little anxious. I’d been so busy planning the protest that I hadn’t really thought about the possibility that it might not work. It had to work.
After an hour we stopped and had some snacks. Cookies and juice supplied by Mrs. Williams. It seemed strange that she was supporting us, given that she was a member of the council. Was it possible that she was afraid Mrs. Leary could convince the council to ban pets? Whatever the reason, I was glad Ashley had suggested snacks. Protesting was tiring.
It was hard to get everyone going again after the break. Some of the kids had had enough.
But then Sarah and Ethan started chanting, “We want to climb! We want to climb! We want to climb!”
Sammy and Salina brought out a bunch of noisemakers—toy drums and maracas and a tambourine. Tyler and Michael started banging on metal garbage lids with hockey sticks. Soon everyone was marching again, and we were louder than ever.
We must have passed Ethan’s house about a hundred times. I’d almost given up hope when Ms. Matheson suddenly appeared on the doorstop. “Okay,” she shouted above the noise, “what’s it going to take to make you stop?”
Almost immediately, everyone stopped marching, chanting, rattling and banging.
Knowing that she had our full attention, Ms. Matheson used her principal’s voice to say, “This kind of behavior is not acceptable.” She glared at Tyler, who just happened to be standing right in front of her.
“It was Bree’s idea,” Tyler said. Coward, I thought.
“Brianna?” Ms. Matheson said, rubbing her forehead. “What’s this all about?”
“We’re protesting the Cedar Grove bylaw against tree climbing,” I said, trying to sound confident and official.
“What you are doing,” Ms. Matheson said, still rubbing her forehead, “is disturbing everyone.”
“It’s a peaceful protest, Ms. Matheson,” I said. “We want to make sure everyone in Cedar Grove knows how we feel.”
“I think everyone has heard you loud and clear.” As Ms. Matheson said this, she scanned the group, trying to make eye contact. A principal trick, for sure. Poor Ethan. “Now why don’t you use those hockey sticks the way they are meant to be used,” she said to Tyler and Michael.
“We’re not done protesting, ma’am,” Michael responded.
“How long do you plan to go on?” Ms. Matheson asked. She glanced at the other parents. There was a big group of them now. Dad had brought out a bunch of lawn chairs and set them up in front of our garage. They were drinking coffee and eating Timbits. They were acting like we were entertainment. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“We’re not bathing until the bylaw is changed,” Tyler said, confident now that Michael and I had spoken up. “Or showering,” he added. Just to be clear, I guess.
“Good luck with that,” Ms. Matheson said sharply. She turned around and closed the front door behind her. Ethan stood trembling next to Sarah.
“Now they’ll probably make a bylaw against protests,” someone said. Everyone laughed, but it was nervous laughter.
We marched a little more, this time chanting, “No more rules! No more rules!” But the protest didn’t last much longer. The enthusiasm was gone.
I should have known that was a sign of things to come.