Page 102 of The Holiday Fakers
“Yep!”
I stumble down the slope toward our crossing point. With Billy in my arms, I can’t see my feet, and if I can’t see my feet, I don’t know if I’m starting out on the trunk in the middle. And how the hell am I supposed to climb up through the branches to the trunk, and then down the other side through the root structure, without using my arms?
When we get there, Piper shuffles out of her coat and wraps Lucky in it. She doesn’t need the leash this time. I don’t think the pup has the strength to follow us.
“I’ll go behind you as you climb up to the trunk,” Piper says, “and push on your back to keep your weight forward as you lift through your legs.”
She climbs behind me through the branches, keeping me upright, placing my feet when I can’t feel the next foothold, and guiding me with quiet instructions. My quads are burning by the time we reach the top, and I breathe heavily, trying to shake the acid from my muscles.
“You’re going to have to guide me across to the other side,” I say.
She nods and sets off along the narrow trunk.
I lurch forward, alarm tightening my throat. “Piper! Wait!”
“It’s better if you can see me,” she replies calmly.
I can’t argue with that, but my stomach is filled with dread that I’m about to watch her fall.
She smiles. “I’ll be careful. Slow and safe is better than fast and—” She tilts her head toward the drop beside us and I briefly close my eyes, the nightmare scenario already playing out in my mind.
When I open them again, she’s half way across, and now I can’t blink, can’t breathe.
“Brody?” a little voice pipes up.
“Hey, Billy. Almost forgot you were there. How’s it going?”
“Are we nearly there yet?”
“Sure are. Just the gorge to cross, and then we’re home free. Piper’s going first to keep you warm while I go back for Lucky.”
“Okay.”
My heart stutters as she reaches the other side safely and gives me a wave.
I step forward onto the snow-covered trunk. “How am I doing?” I call out.
“Great!” she yells back. “Dead center! Just keep your eyes on me, I’m right in the middle, too.”
I do, inching forward, drawn to Piper like she’s reeling me in on an invisible rope.
“That’s it,” she says. “Nearly there.”
Emotion rises in my throat at the thought that we’ve almost made it, but I shove it down. I’ve got to get Lucky.
Piper takes Billy and wraps him like a lumpy Christmas present. She holds his weight as she stands, leaning against the tree roots. She’s staying upright so I can still see her.
Each second feels like an hour as I force myself to go slowly and carefully back along the trunk, then through the branches, to the ground.
This time, Piper isn’t there to help me back up, but Lucky’s lighter, so I carry her under one arm, using the other to pull myself and hold on as my feet search for the next step.
“I’ve got Lucky!” I yell so Billy can hear me.
Piper passes the message along, then stands upright. I can tell by the straining tendons in her neck how difficult it is for her to do so.
Her voice is clear and steady as she calls out her instructions, then gives a whoop as I make it to her side.
“I’m going to take Lucky straight down now,” I tell her. “The distance to the ground isn’t as far on this side, so you could probably pass Billy to me.”
