Falling

Beverly hurried around the side of the school building searching the school yard for her quarry.

*There. Good, I'm not too late.*

Of all days for M'Karra to keep her after school. Something about not paying attention in class. Whatever.

She set a careful pace, keeping her quarry in view but not getting close enough to be noticed.

*As if he'd notice me anyway.*

She watched as he met some friends, then as a group, continued out of the school yard towards McClellens Peak.

*The usual Thursday routine.* Beverly slowed her pace, contriving to be "just passing by" if they happened to notice her. They never did.

The group of boys hurried up the slope laughing and joking loudly. Beverly took up her position at the bottom of the hill satisfied to wait there, hidden from causal passersby by an outcropping of gray rock. There she waited and daydreamed most every Thursday, hoping for a casual glance or even a greeting from him when he descended.

Last week he'd actually said, "Hi." She'd been goose-pimply for hours and Nana had had to repeat everything twice to be heard that night.

Beverly had just gotten to her favorite part of the fantasy - where he was working as an artist creating beautiful metal sculptures, when she realized something was wrong.

The boys were often loud, shouting to hear their echoes, but this shouting was different. It sounded scared.

Without thinking, Beverly left her hiding place and raced up the hill. She found them gathered around a level area a third of the way up the peak, peering over the edge and yelling.

"What's wrong?" she demanded breathlessly as she joined them. Then she saw him. He was at least 10 meters down, laying face down. Not moving. His leg was bent at a funny angle.

Whirling towards the boys she snapped out orders. "One of you go get the healer. Tell her to bring a splint for a broken leg. The rest of you help me get down there."

As if seeing her for the first time, they started all asking questions at once. Only one boy, the smallest of the group, standing farthest from the ledge, had the sense to listen to her. He took off down the hill fast.

"My Nana's the healer. She taught me some of her craft. Help me get down there so I can help him. Now.!"

They finally figured a way, looping all their belts together to form a harness. Slowly they lowered her down to the ledge. It was narrow and he took up most of it. Beverly took a quick deep breath and knelt down to examine him.

*Leg broken, definitely, doesn't seem to have a concussion. No other broken bones. Some bad cuts and bruises. Not too serious.*

She huddled against the solid rock, feeling the wind push against her and wished her Nana would hurry up. After what seemed like years, she heard her.

Nana had had the foresight to bring some helpers along. Beverly fastened the splint securely on the boy's leg, wincing when he moaned. Then, with her assistance, Nana and her helpers lifted him to safety. From there he was transported to the hospital and Beverly was pulled up to the level ground. Nana gave her a huge hug before following after the boy.

The other boys drifted away, some of them thanking her, some saying nothing. Beverly didn't care. As long as he was all right, that was all that mattered.

Two days later he was back at school. Beverly saw him sitting alone, watching as his friends raced around playing. He looked miserable.

Taking a deep breath she walked over to him.

"Hi."

"Hi," he answered back, uninterested.

"How's your leg?"

"OK." He looked at her hard. "You're the one who helped get me off the ledge."

"Yes," she said slowly, blushing.

"Well, ah, thanks. I guess. I mean, I gotta go." And struggling to his feet he hobbled away, leaving Beverly alone and feeling like an idiot.

"Yeah. Bye," she muttered under her breath. "See ya."

*****

That afternoon she went to McClellens Peak and sat, cross-legged, at that spot where the boys had stood, peering down at their injured friend. She closed her eyes and tried hard to picture her fantasy. None of it, not the metal sculptures, not the happy children, none of the carefully constructed images would come. They were gone, along with so many of her fantasies.

Slowly she stood and walked down the slope, leaving behind her daydreams. From that day on she hated heights because they were one more thing that had taken away someone she loved.

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