Amethyst by Heather Bowhay Read Free Book Online Page A

we resumed our pace. Sun streaks seeped through the massive cedar and fir
trees, and birds flitted from branch to branch. Bikers passed us by as Jessica
chattered on about a customer who’d spent over a thousand dollars on their
grocery order.
    After we’d been
walking for awhile, I thought I heard someone yelling deep in the woods.
Stopping abruptly, I looked over at Jessica. “Did you hear that?”
    “Yeah,” she said
with a frown. “Let’s check it out.” We left the trail and waded through thick
brush. Eventually, we came upon a young boy in bright red shorts who was
standing at the base of a tall cedar.
    Gazing upwards,
with hands cupping his mouth, he yelled. “Come on Blake. Let’s go. If I’m late
again my dad will ground me and take away my PS3.”
    A loud snort
resonated high in the tree branches. “Oh, suck it up,” Blake retorted as his
yellow shorts disappeared from view.
    “Whatever dude.
I’m outta here,” Seth said. But he stopped short when he turned around and
spotted us.
    “Oh fine ya big
wuss. Wait up,” Blake yelled angrily as his yellow shorts reappeared.
Scrambling swiftly, his feet barely touched the branches. He sailed from one
level to the next barely gripping the limbs for support. I was about to yell at
him to slow down, when he raised his arms in the air and shouted, “Hey look, no
hands.”
    In the middle of
all his glory, he lost his footing, and his body came flailing downwards.
Speechless, we could do nothing but watch as he free-fell through the air,
smacking into spindly branches on his descent. Screaming, he landed with a
“thud” on the hard-packed ground, one arm cracking as it made contact with an
exposed tree root. We rushed to his side.
    “Ohhh,” he
moaned, clutching his elbow, which was bent unnaturally, like it was broken.
“Oh man, my arm hurts really bad.”
    “Everything’s
going to be just fine,” Jessica said soothingly. As she grasped his arm, she
told me to look for other injuries. Humming, she moved her hands in circular
motions around his elbow and all up and down his arm. Blake whimpered a little
at first, but eventually his tears diminished, and he closed his eyes while
smiling like he was having a pleasant dream. I stared in fascination as Jessica
massaged his arm. The woods were still and heavy with the scent of evergreens
and musty earth. The effect was tranquilizing.
    A pinecone fell
from a tree and landed with a “plunk,” breaking the peaceful moment. Opening
his honey colored eyes, Blake looked at Jessica and said, “You made it feel
better just like my mom always does. Are you a mom, too?”
    Jessica laughed
heartily. “Goodness no! Not yet.”
    I tapped his
leg. “I think you’ll survive. Just a few scrapes. You’re lucky…and tough,” I
added.
    He stood up and
examined his arm. “Wow! I feel really good. I mean, like my arm doesn’t hurt at
all .” He twisted it left and right and stretched it out a few times. I was
shocked because his arm looked perfectly normal now. As we escorted the boys
back to the trail, I wondered what the heck had just happened. We’d intended on
walking them to the main section of the park, but Blake insisted he was fine.
He said he’d get band-aids for his cuts when he got home. With the spirit and
buoyancy only young boys possess, they bolted down the path, racing to see who
was the fastest.
    I grabbed
Jessica’s hand. “Do you want to explain exactly what you did back there?”
    Shrugging, she
crinkled her nose. “My mom is an ER doctor at the hospital, and she makes me
attend all kinds of safety and emergency training classes.”
    “Jessica,” I
said, my tone laced with exasperation, “that was a lot more than simple first
aid. I’ve been to a few of those classes myself, and that training had nothing
to do with what you just did.”
    “Okay,” she said
furtively and twisted her hands together, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you
about this anyways. Let me ask you a question first.