Treehouse

This is the story of a little girl. She knew she was a girl, but no one seemed to believe her. Well. Her best friend believed her...

Treehouse
by Edeyn Hannah Blackeney

Titles with more than one word, are not General Audiences due to content or emotionally
-- a title that DOES have only one word, is safe for everyone to read.

Being a girl didn't mean you had to be interested in tea parties and dollies and makeup and dresses. Being a girl was just... being a girl. The best part about being a girl? NOT being a boy. Of course.

So she didn't insist that she was a girl to her family, because they all insisted that she was a boy. She would just smile and nod and go on about her business, ignoring their lack of ability to perceive reality. What can you do but humour those that are unable to think? Poor dears.

When she was only 6 years old, she and her best friend told one of her cousins, just over 2 years older than her. The cousin was able to see the little girl, because she was intelligent and wise and nice enough to listen. So then there were three of them that knew, and they would sometimes play the girly games, even though all three were actually kind of tomboyish.

One night, when all three were sleeping over at the cousin's house, they all played dress-up in the party dresses and church going frocks that the cousin had in the back of her closet and tried not to think about most of the time. The little girl was given a lacy, white dress with a pretty blue sash and matching hair ribbons. It was the most feminine of the dresses, but she happily tried it on anyway. Then, thinking about how silly her family was in their thinking of her she exclaimed, "Look! It has a blue sash! Blue is for boys!"

All three of the girls burst into fits of giggles.

They enjoyed times like this now and then, but the three of them were close friends and swore never to abandon each other. A couple of years later, the cousin and her family had to move away, but they knew she wouldn't be gone forever... so the little girl and her best friend played as before, just with one fewer.

One day, one of the little boys in the neighbourhood talked his granddad into building him the most wonderful of treehouses. It was in 4 different trees, and they were connected by slat and rope bridges. It had gables and paneling and it even had a railing and a porch! It was the greatest treehouse anyone had ever seen! Even the county newspaper showed up to take pictures and sing praises of the wonderfulness of the treehouse.

The little boy and his best friends proudly climbed up the rope ladder and pulled it up after them. Then they stood on the porch and looked at all the children in the neighbourhood, as a king and his advisers surveying the peasants of the land.

They held a long roll of white cotton between them and with a SNAP! they unfurled the banner they had painstakingly drawn the night before.

As it fell open to reveal the cryptic message, the king affixed the little girl (that everyone still insisted was a boy) with a haughty glare and pointed directly at her.

"And this goes for YOU, too!" he proclaimed, as the words became clear, only slightly marred by the rolling:

N O   G I R L S   A L L O W E D !

Every eye in the courtyard was upon her as she failed to react the way they all felt she should. After all, no boy would take such an insult lightly!

She doubled over with laughter.

She laughed so hard her best friend had to pound her on the back until she could breathe again.

The two walked off arm in arm with several of the other girls in the kingdom -- for this neighborhood had truly become such -- and went to see a man about some lumber. The little girl's Gran'fa was a twinkle-eyed Irishman, and he owned the local lumbermill. With but a single pout and a bit of explanation -- including admitting to Gran'fa that she was, indeed, a girl -- they were gifted with all the top quality lumber they wanted, he also gifted his granddaughter all the assistance of all the workers of the mill.

That afternoon, the little girl and her best friend revisited the castle with the flying buttresses and the bridges and the gables... with a tape measure. They were able to get what they came for before the king and his men even understood they were being raided, and then the girls were away. Spirited by their own swift feet and gales of laughter.

By sunset the next day, the castle of the king was overshadowed -- nay... downright put to SHAME -- by the castle of the Two Queens.

The little girl and her best friend unveiled a fortress to end all fortresses, built mostly by the hands of the laborers that toiled in the mill for the little girl's Gran'fa. It stood proudly amongst the leaves, almost organic in the way it twisted about, a spiraling staircase around the trunk of the main tree in such a way that it did the tree no harm.

The Castle of the Two Queens stands today, still... a quarter century later, a full eight inches higher than the King's Castle (which also still stands). It winds about eleven trees and has escape poles, safety chutes, and is all but impenetrable. It has been many colors over the years as it has passed through hands to new Queens, but the one feature that has never changed -- though it has been meticulously replaced with exact copies -- is the flag flying above the main tree, proudly stating:

N O   B O Y S   A L L O W E D !



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