The owl changed its call.  "Who?  You?  Who?  You?"  Trying to follow the sound, I walked backward on damp grass that needed mowing, turning in a slow circle.  Overhead a huge full moon looked almost close enough to touch.

Then the tall maple tree on the side lawn started laughing.  "OK," I said, "I've made a total fool of myself. You happy?"

          The laughter stopped. "Relax," Pet said from somewhere in the branches.  "You only made a partial fool of yourself at most. Hey, come on up."

"I don't want to climb a stupid tree."

"Why not?  Not sophisticated enough?  Afraid someone will see and think you're weird?  Good!  The world needs more weird--everyone's so normal it's like they're asleep all day!"

I couldn't remember the last time I'd climbed a tree. But when she put it that way, like a challenge, I didn't have much choice.  Still, when another car left the parking lot I slipped behind the tree and waited for the headlights to pass before I swung myself onto the lowest limb, and started playing monkey man up the trunk.

Pet was perched on a fat branch fifteen feet up.  She gave me her hand and I sat next to her.  I felt invisible and ready for something new to happen, like I was in a secret clubhouse or some magic place in a kids' book.

I wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl fifteen
feet up in a tree, in the dark, with the romantic sounds of a bad football game in the background. Pet touched my shoulder, and I hoped I'd soon be finding out.

We sat there on the thick limb, close as can be, and   didn't talk for a minute or more.  If you've ever been out on a first date, and I bet you have--not that this was a first date or anything--you know how long a minute of silence is.  It feels    like an hour.  You're trying to think of something to say, but it can't be stupid because then you'll look like some dork who's trying to think of something to say.  But the thing is, this wasn't uncomfortable.  There was just the two of us in a tree with the night all around us, all the way to the stars.

Pet finally spoke.  "Wouldn't it be strange to be a tree?  You'd grow and grow and grow without knowing it until one   day you'd die, without ever traveling even one inch."

"It's a good thing they don't have brains," I said, "or   they'd be brutal bored."

Pet grinned.  "And scared zitless when somebody comes with a chainsaw."

         We sat close together up in that big maple, swinging our legs and talking and feeling great that the other one was there, and nothing else in the world mattered.