Spoiled Rotten (7 page)

I guessed it was up to me. I looked at Patti. She nodded but couldn't speak. My dad put his hand on my shoulder and walked over with me.

“I'm Mike,” the man said. “I'll help you into the horse collar.”

A few minutes later I was swinging through the night air, held by a big strap under my arms. I was facing Mike, whose harness was somehow hooked to mine.

I looked down. Dad's fire looked so small and far away I was surprised they had spotted it. I should have been scared out of my mind, but everything happened so fast I didn't have time to think.

A man and woman helped us into the big yellow helicopter. They told me to sit near the pilot and co-pilot.

“Hi,” the pilot had a friendly smile, “I'm Anne. We need you to look down and try to pinpoint the exact spot where you left your friend.”

“She's not my friend.”

The pilot looked surprised.

“She's Amy, my, uh…sister.”

Anne nodded.

“And if you follow the river, we should see Amy's fire.”

The searchlight guided us up the river. I
stared down, searching for the small glow of a signal fire. I recognized the high waterfall where Amy had been stuck. But everything looked different from up here. It was hard to tell a waterfall from rapids. And we moved so fast I lost track of where we were.

The searchlight fell on the lake. My heart clenched. We had missed her. “Don't worry,” Anne said. “I'll take us down a little closer to the ground.”

We headed downriver. Before I knew it we were back at the waterfall.

“Okay,” I swallowed and tried to stay calm, “we need to concentrate on the top half of the river. I'm sure that's where she is.”

“And you're certain she has a fire going?”

“Yes, I'm—almost sure.”

“Then let's try turning out the searchlight. The fire will show up better that way.”

It worked. At last I spotted a tiny red glow and knew we had found Amy.

Mike and the woman who had helped me aboard went down on ropes. Two other people lowered a stretcher.

We hovered over the spot, but I couldn't tell what was happening below.

“Don't worry,” Anne said. “They are both trained paramedics.”

“She's coming up!” someone called.

I could see the stretcher swinging in space, but I couldn't make out Amy. It wasn't until they hauled the stretcher on board that I saw her. She looked tiny and her skin was milky white against the blankets.

“Jess,” her voice was slurred. Her thin fingers reached up.

I took hold of her hand. “I'm here,” I said. “You did great!”

I'm sure she smiled before she winced in pain.

The co-pilot picked up his radio to call in. “We've got the girl,” he said. “We're taking her to the hospital in Powell River. Call the
Fanta-sea
and let her parents know.”

At the hospital they wheeled Amy away.

A nurse with a clipboard came up to me. “I'll need some information,” she said.

I stared at her dizzily. Was she swaying back and forth or was it me?

“Come, sit down.” The nurse put an arm around my shoulders and guided me to chair. “You're limping!” she said.

“I am?”

How could I not have noticed? It felt as if there were sharp little pebbles in my shoes.

She took off my shoes and put them aside. My feet were a mass of blisters.

“How did you get so wet?”

“We had to walk through the water.”

“Wet socks and running shoes,” she said. “They'll do it every time!”

After she patched me up the nurse found a quiet waiting room with a couch. I half remember her putting a warm blanket over me before I fell asleep.

“Jess,” said a voice above my head. I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Jess!”

“Dad?” I yawned. How did he get here so fast? I tried to ask but could only mumble. My eyes refused to open.

“We just got here,” Dad said. “We brought the boat around, but it was so dark on the water we couldn't go very fast.”

I forced my eyes open and looked up at his tired face. I blinked toward a window at a pale blue sky. “It's morning already,” I said stupidly.

Dad nodded, “It's just past dawn.”

He sat beside me. “Amy is going to be fine. Patti is with her now.”

“Can I see her?”

“I don't see why not.” He stood and took my hands to help me up.

My poor feet! They hurt so much I hobbled down the hall like an old woman.

Weak sunlight spilled into Amy's room. She lay on a high narrow bed and had casts on one leg and one arm. She looked pale and fragile in that early morning light. When she saw me a smile crept across her face.

“Thanks Jess,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep.

Dad squeezed Amy's hand. “You're a lucky girl,” he said.

Patti started to cry. She bent and kissed Amy's forehead.

“Come on, Jess,” Dad said. “Let's leave these two alone. I'll buy you some breakfast.”

In the coffee shop I ordered a cinnamon bun and hot chocolate with whipped cream. The hot chocolate went down so good that I asked for another one.

Dad didn't say a word; he just sipped his coffee and stared at his hands. Finally he said, “Jess, I'm really proud of you.”

“Anyone would have done the same thing,” I told him, embarrassed.

He looked at me then. “I don't just mean last night,” he said, “I mean all the time. I'm proud that you are my daughter.” He studied his hands again. “I guess I don't show it very well these days.”

I stared into my hot chocolate. “So? What's to be proud of? I don't get good grades like Amy. I'm not pretty like Amy. And, you may have noticed, I'm not the neatest person in the world.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. Then he turned serious. “I didn't get good grades either,” he admitted. “But you're a good person, Jess, you care about people. And I bet you know more about the outdoors than anyone else your age.”

He put his hand over mine. “As for being pretty like Amy, why should you look like her? You look like your mother—so much that sometimes it hurts when I look at you.”

I gulped some hot chocolate. It burned in my throat. “I'm sorry,” I gasped.

“No, Jess. Don't be sorry. Be proud. Your mother was a wonderful beautiful woman and we will always miss her.” He sipped his coffee and put the mug down. “You know, Jess, she loved you very much.”

He paused then, as if he wanted to say something else but didn't know how. “And I do too,” he added quietly.

“In that case,” I said, before he got too mushy, “when are we going hiking?”

“Soon,” he said. Then he smiled. “While Amy is in casts would be a good time.”

I laughed. “Right on.”

I thought about Amy. And I thought about her father. She had missed out on a lot. “But maybe one day, Dad, you could take her on a hiking trip. You know, just a father and daughter sort of thing?”

He looked surprised. “You wouldn't mind?”

“No,” I told him. “Not anymore.”

Dayle Campbell Gaetz
is the author of many books for children including
Mystery from History, Barkerville Gold
,
No Problem
and her latest mystery,
Alberta Alibi
. Dayle loves boating and over the years has owned a tiny inflatable raft, a canoe, four sailboats, eleven powerboats and a thirty-two-foot cabin cruiser. Dayle lives in Campbell River, British Columbia.

Wired
by Sigmund Brouwer

I cut left to miss a boulder sticking out of the snow. I ducked beneath a branch. I hit a jump at freeway speed. It launched me into the air at least one story off the ground. I leaned forward and made sure my skis stayed straight.

I thumped back to earth and crouched low, so I would block less wind. At this speed, the trees on each side of the slope seemed like flashing fence boards.

Halfway down the run I knew I was skiing the best I ever had. If I kept pushing, I would easily stay at number one.

Beneath my helmet, I grinned my grin of fear. And as I cut into a steep turn, I saw it. But couldn't believe it.

Wire. Black wire stretched between two trees at waist height. I was flashing toward it at thirty meters per second. Hitting the wire at that speed would slice me in two.

Flower Power
by Ann Walsh

Why did everyone keep asking me how I felt? How did they expect me to feel? I felt rotten. I felt worried. I felt scared.

Worried about what I was going to feed Mom for lunch and dinner and breakfast the next day and the day after that and the day after that. Worried about who would buy the groceries when we ran out of milk and bread. Worried about how Mom was going to get to the bank, or pay for my swimming lessons, or book my flight to see Dad next month or do anything at all if she wasn't going to come down from that tree.

Scared about her falling and hurting herself.

And very, very scared about what my friends would say when they found out what was going on.

How did I feel? What a dumb question.

Sudden Impact
by Lesley Choyce

The heavy fullback went down right on top of him. I heard this terrifying scream come out of Kurt. Kurt was not usually a screamer. I'd never heard him utter the slightest whimper of pain, ever. He was as tough as they come.

A whistle blew. The ball had missed the net. Nobody knew what I knew. I was over the rickety fence and running onto the field. The referee pulled the Fairview goon off of Kurt, but Kurt was still curled over on the grass.

Coach Kenner yelled at me to get off the field. He and Jason both came chasing after me. They thought I'd lost my mind. A kid falls down in a soccer game, big deal. But I knew better.