The Crossroads

“The Tree of Life has three hundred and twenty-five images of endangered and extinct animals carved into its trunk, roots, and branches,” said Judy.

On Memorial Day, Zack, Judy, and George—the whole new Jennings family—wound their way around the fourteen-story-tall man-made baobab tree that was the centerpiece to Disney’s Animal Kingdom amusement park.

“It’s awesome!” Zack stared up at all the animals etched into the fake tree like a gigantic interlocking jigsaw puzzle.

“Can you see the lion?” his father asked. “In the bark there? I think it’s a lion. Maybe a leopard. I know it’s not a panda bear….”

“Yeah. Cool.” Zack had been having a blast in Orlando and figured his new stepmom could turn out to be a whole lot more fun than his real mom.

That’s when he smelled her, smelled the cigarette.

His mother.

Zack imagined she had come back from the dead to teach him a lesson. How dare he have fun with his pretty new stepmother when his real mother was dead on account of him? This wasn’t the Tree of Life. It was the Tree of Death!

“Zack?” his dad asked. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. Tried to speak. “Yeah. Fine.”

Judy sniffed the air. She smelled it, too.

“Somebody’s smoking,” she said.

“I thought the whole park was nonsmoking.” Zack’s dad sounded mad.

“It is,” said Judy. “But you know smokers. They have trouble reading signs.” Now Judy looked at Zack. She must have seen the panic in his eyes. “You okay, hon?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Zack knew smokers, too. Lived with one most of his life. His mother went through two or three packs a day. Sucked on them hard, like she wanted to drain each stick dry. His mother kept smoking until the day she died, even though the cigarettes were what caused the cancer.

“They’re the only joy I have left,” she used to croak from that hospital bed in the dining room. She would stare at Zack with a look that seared his soul deeper than the glowing tip of a cigarette could scorch his skin. “My only joy in the world.”