My Treehouse

A fictional short-short story

Do I really need to turn off my brain, to play dumb? But the kids hate me and Anthony beat me up, twice. He said, “You can beat me in class but I can beat you outside.”

I’m only in the 4th grade but I’m tired of it.

I asked my dad if he could build me a treehouse. I should have realized he doesn’t have the money for the lumber, and he’d have to hire someone — he’s a housepainter, not a carpenter.

I looked up at the tree and saw that three sides were blocked by neighbor’s trees. Only one side needed to be covered — the side facing our little house. So I asked my dad, ‘Could I have one of your tarps — Actually one with a lot of paint splatters would look cool — and that ladder you don’t use?” He nodded.

To keep my hands free, I put a hammer and nails in my pocket and folded up the tarp so I didn’t trip going up the ladder. Up there, I nailed the tarp but only on three sides, so the fourth could be my “door.”

I also brought my favorite book, Hatchet. It’s about a reject who tried to survive in the wilderness — Sound familiar? — and an empty notebook, you know, the kind with the black marble cover.

I opened the notebook but couldn’t think of what to write. I was tempted to give up and read my book but decided to breathe and wait. I’m glad I did. Here’s what I wrote, and forgive me that it’s not written as well as for school, but I wanted to show you what I actually wrote:

Is there a way I can use my brain without turning kids off. The teachers love me but the kids hate me. Maybe I need to raise my hand less, maybe only after the teacher has called on three kids. But I don’t care much about kids, really. I care more that the teachers like me and give me a better grade. And regular grown-ups? They like me the way I am. I can’t wait until I grow up.

I wanted to write more, maybe about something else, but my mother called, “Dinner!”

I lifted the flap and saw that the top of the ladder had shifted a few inches. I got scared. Should I call my dad? Maybe, but what if I could pull off a piece of that branch and use it to move the ladder back in place?

Long story short, I just finished dinner — mac and cheese — my favorite. I’ll go back up to my treehouse some time, but tomorrow I will try to raise my hand less. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay with it.

I read this aloud on YouTube.

Marty Nemko is a career and personal coach and author of 36 books including Starting-Out Stories. You can reach him at mnemko@gmail.com