Chapter 16

On the way back to Richie’s house he tells me about his new fort. His family’s construction crew built it in their backyard. If you’ve ever been in an airplane or looked at a globe, you’ve probably seen his backyard—it’s that big!

“You’ve got to check out my fort!” Richie says.

“Do we need to go back to my house and get my passport?” I ask. “Or will we be in the part of your backyard that’s still in the United States?”

Richie and his dad laugh. Mrs. Woodward looks confused. She’s still trying to get the water out of her ears.

I actually can’t wait to see his new fort! Maybe it’ll give me a few ideas for our tree house.

When we get out of the car, Richie points to a couple of electric scooters in the garage.

“It’s a long way around to the back of my house,” he says. “Let’s use the scooters to head east toward the second gate.”

When we finally get to the gate, it looks like something out of the movies. Richie throws it open and announces: “Behold, the Woodward wood house!”

“Um, is it behind your neighbor’s house and past the trampoline?” I ask.

“What? No, that’s not our neighbor’s house—that’s my new fort!” Richie says. “And we had to move the trampoline because you broke that tree branch above it, remember?”

“And your dad thought nobody could hit that limb because it was so high,” I say. “I told you that I’m very aerodynamic.”

Richie laughs. I scan his fort and start to feel dizzy—even more dizzy than when I hit that tree branch with my head. His fort is mind-bogglingly huge! I stand there trying to remember a Scripture verse about not getting jealous of others. Richie interrupts my train of thought.

“The second story isn’t finished yet,” he says, “but let’s check out the first floor.”

I have to admit that I am jealous of Richie’s fort, but I calm down a bit once we go inside. After all, it’s not that cool. For instance, the TV can’t pick up the Wi-Fi from the main house and the refrigerator isn’t full-size. But who am I kidding? I’m very impressed!

“This fort is awesome!” I say.

“Thanks,” Richie replies. “Oh, before I forget, we have a bunch of leftover wood. We were going to add a balcony on the top floor but Mom decided it’s too dangerous. Do you want it for your tree house?”

I quickly go from thinking of a Scripture about jealousy to remembering 1 John 3:17: “Suppose someone sees a brother or sister in need and is able to help them. And suppose that person doesn’t take pity on these needy people. Then how can the love of God be in that person?”

Richie might be rich, but he sees my need and decides to share with me. Now Billy and I have the rest of the supplies for our tree house!

Mr. Woodward helps us load the wood into his truck and we head home. But before we leave, I invite Richie’s family to church. That’s five more people counting their butler and cook. Only 462 left!

On the drive home I offer to pay for the wood. They don’t need the money, and I know they probably won’t accept payment, but I know it’s the right thing to do.

“That would be great,” Mr. Woodward says. “I’ll have to double-check the amount, but I think the total was $687. That’s a very mature offer, Bob,” he adds. “Thank you very much.”

I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced complete and utter silence before, but that’s what it’s like in the Woodwards’ truck for the next few seconds. Sweat starts dripping down my forehead. My hands feel numb.

“Uh, okay,” I finally say. “That . . . sounds fair.”

Mr. Woodward bursts out laughing.

“I’m just joking,” he says. “We’re happy to give the wood to you for your tree house. Just promise to invite Richie over to see it when you’re done.”

Now that’s a promise I know I will keep. It might not be as huge as Richie’s fort, but this is definitely going to be the best tree house ever!

The next day Billy meets me at the big tree. We’re excited to start on the walls. I climb up to the floor we’ve built in the middle of the tree. I have to say that Billy and I did a really good job putting down the flooring. Oh, and Mr. Polvado probably deserves some credit for doing everything else while Billy and I were gathering those big, important rocks that we still haven’t used.

“Throw me the rope!” I call to Billy.

Thirty seconds later, I add, “Okay, stop laughing and throw me the rope again.”

Billy has a strange sense of humor.

This time I actually catch the rope and start pulling up the wall I got for free from my youth leader. Billy joins me in the tree, and we hammer the wall into the floor and strap it to some nearby limbs. The wall looks pretty cool, although the painted flames give it an interesting look in the middle of a tree.

“Now jump down and let’s haul up the new boards,” I tell Billy.

My friend just grunts behind me.

“Fine,” I say, grabbing the rope. “I’ll jump down.”

This time Billy makes a hissing noise.

“What’s up with you?” I say, turning around.

Billy is frozen still. Maybe he didn’t make those noises. I notice a big tree limb with what appears to be a giant furry couch on it.

Billy’s mouth gets unfrozen. “It’s the Huge Hairy Hisser,” he whispers.

Upon hearing its name, Triple-H decides to show us his fangs. I admit that it’s scary, but I’m actually relieved that it isn’t Billy making all those noises. That would’ve been weird.

Yet those sounds fit perfectly with our fearsome forest fiend. Making those noises is right out of the “Scary Beast Handbook.” Speaking of, I instantly remember my trusty survival handbook!

I think I might have left it at my grandparents’ house. I really need to find that thing because I keep getting into situations where it might help. But back to the tree.

“What should we do?” Billy whispers.

HHH answers for me with a giant hissing sound. I’ve had enough.

“He isn’t talking to you!” I shout.

Sure, I’m nervous, but I’m also a little angry. I never have my survival handbook when I need it. Plus I’m tired of this beast interfering with my summer plans.

I quickly toss the rope toward HHH. Then I grab Billy and pull him away from the beast. The rope bounces off HHH’s head.

Billy doubles over laughing when the rope hits the giant raccoon’s face. My plan is for us to run away, but I don’t factor in Billy’s strange sense of humor and inability to get down out of a tree when he’s laughing.

HHH takes a step toward us. Now I’m faced with two options: I can jump out of the tree, leaving my best friend to fend for himself, or I can face this terrible time-wasting terror head-on, and thus protect my friend.

When you take a moment to think about it, I guess there is only one option.