User Unfriendly by Vivian Vande Velde Read Free Book Online Page A

ease myself down onto my knees, but with my arms behind me, my balance was off and I dropped painfully onto the hard floor.
    "There, now you've got it."
    Thank you very much. I leaned back and found that my hands
were
even with his foot.
    "To the right. To the right. No, to the left."
    I couldn't tell which ached more, my knees or my shoulders.
    "Got it! Do you feel the flap?"
    I felt the flap. I felt the thin piece of metal under the flap. I couldn't get my hand turned around. Now my fingers were beginning to ache. Upside down, I got the pick between my index finger and my middle finger and lifted it out of its sheath.
    The miserable thing slipped between my fingers and hit the floor.
    I groaned. Robin groaned. But I was the one who had to retrieve it. I lowered myself all the way to the floor and tried to locate the pick from Robin's ridiculous directions.
    "To the left. My left. Now forward. Too far. Back about three inches. Straight. Straight, Harek."
    If the guards had come in then, I would have cheerfully volunteered to be on Robin's firing squad.
    I rested on my right side, panting.
    "Harek...," Robin started.
    I glared at him.
    "Do you think you can pick it up with your teeth?"
    With my teeth?
    "Pull the gag all the way into your mouth, then bite the gag down between your teeth. Then you'll be able to get the pick with your mouth."
    I couldn't think of anything else to do. And believe me, I tried. I chewed the soggy gag backward. It seemed enormous, but finally my teeth were free. I bent over and bit the pick, getting a nice mouthful of dirt floor at the same time of course.
    Meanwhile Robin had used the toe of his left foot against his right heel and had kicked off his boot. "OK," he said, "now give me the pick."
    Are you picturing this? Me with my poor aching body, on my knees with my hands behind my back and the pick between my teeth, and him dangling his bare foot in my face, flexing his toes?
    Somehow we did it. I sat back on my heels, wondering,
Now what?
Robin swung his leg up like a dancer doing high kicks, trying to get the pick up into his right hand shackled into the wall. I was torn between the desire to get out of there and the hope he'd kick himself in the face and knock himself out. He got the leg higher and higher, finally almost reaching his hand before the pick flew out from between his toes and sailed across the room. It clinked as it hit the stone wall, then went
thunk!
against the floor.
    "I'm sorry," Robin said, sounding close to whining, sounding ... sounding ... Well, to be honest, sounding as physically bedraggled and as emotionally exhausted as I felt. His arms had to be killing him, supporting his weight for who knows how long before I'd even come to. And those high kicks, and bouncing his heel back against the wall, and me giving him dirty looks all the time...
    "You're doing a fine job," I said, more or less articulate now that the gag was in a manageable wad.
    Robin looked amazed that I'd said it, which made me feel even wormier.
    I went and got the pick between my teeth again and knelt in front of his foot again.
    "I can't," he said, closing his eyes.
    "Robin," I said, my teeth clamped on the pick. "Robin."
    He could hear me, I was sure of it. Now I could sympathize with how he had felt, trying to rouse me to consciousness earlier.
    I nudged his leg with my shoulder.
    "Leave me alone, Harek." His voice trembled with the strain of talking.
    "Robin, I'll give you the pick, then you can step on my shoulders. Get the weight off your arms."
    That got his eyes open.
    "Go on," I said.
    He clutched the pick with his right foot, and I walked to the wall on my knees, where I slid to my feet. He got his left leg up first, the one that still had a boot. It hurt like anything, but I didn't have the heart to tell him to hang on a bit longer while I pulled it off. After he stepped on with his right foot, I could hear him take several deep breaths, the last much less shaky than the first.
    "OK. Tip your