Watching for Comets

Interlude III

 "Julia, my parents said not to go past the river," eight-year-old me whined. My bare feet trembled at the riverbank.

"We're not past the river, we're in the river," she countered from her perch on a rock a few feet across. The current wasn't fast enough and the water wasn't deep enough to scare me, but I still didn't want to fall in. She stood tall and proud, exuding confidence. "Come on."

I shook my head adamantly.

She frowned and sighed, then skipped back over to where I waited at the bank. I watched her feet glide easily against the rocks, wondering what magic she had done to be so nimble. At the nearest perch, she held out her hands. I glanced back across the yard, my house barely visible in the distance. We weren't allowed to go any farther and chance getting lost.

But I trusted Julia would find the way back.

I took in a deep breath and grasped her hands.

"I've got you," she said, guiding me out onto the first step. The stone was wet and slippery under my feet, but she held me steady. Another step, and my heart rate started to calm down. A couple more, and we were halfway across, and I was still alive.

"Look," she whispered, crouching down to peer into the water. I sank to my heels, not as smoothly as her, and followed the point of her finger. A family of tadpoles was swimming around in the river. We watched in silent rapture.

A frog jumped into the river between our rocks, startling us both.

"Mommy or Daddy?" Julia wondered, chuckling. "Don't worry, froggy, we're just looking," she assured it.

"Neither," I answered. "That's a frog." I pointed at the tadpoles. "Those are toads."

Julia pretended to scowl at me, though her eyes were sparkling. "Smarty-pants," she said, then asked how I knew that. Halfway through my explanation, the frog leapt away from us. Julia followed it with her eyes, then her feet as she climbed onto the next rock, away from me. "I'm going to catch it."

"Wait, Julia—" I tried, panicked now that she was out of reach. I stood quickly, trying to follow her, and felt my feet slipping out from under me. As I fell, I caught a glimpse of her fear-stricken face looking back over her shoulder.

"Epsilon!?"

Cold water soaked my shorts, but my ankle burned.

I heard splashes approaching, then felt hands under my armpits, but I could barely see through the tears.

"Julia," I cried as she lifted me out onto the grass, "my ankle hurts."

"Gosh, Epsilon, I'm so sorry. Let's get you back to your dad. Can you walk?" She helped me to my feet, but as soon as I put weight on my ankle, pain shot up my leg. I screamed and collapsed back onto the ground. I didn't want to scare her, but it hurt. She wrapped her arms around me and waited for my sobs to die down before trying again.

This time, she crouched in front of me and patted her shoulders. "Here. Piggy-back." I managed to climb up by pushing off with my good foot, and soon she was carrying me across the yard.

"Are you okay?" I asked as she was struggling to support my weight, however limited it may have been.

"I'm fine," she insisted, even though she was out of breath.

Dad met us halfway across the yard. "Was that you screaming?" he asked. His tone was calm and level, with just enough worry to show me he cared. I nodded as he took me from Julia. As we walked back to the house, I told him that I had slipped and hurt my ankle. For some reason, Julia was frowning at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked her, and she burst into tears. I didn't know what to do at first. I looked to my dad for help, but he seemed just as surprised as I was that Julia was actually crying. "Why are you crying? I'm the one who's been hurt," I told her, trying to be reassuring.

She shook her head. "It hurts me to see you in pain," she sobbed, "especially when it's my fault." And then she proceeded to tell Dad the parts of the story that I had left out, taking full blame. As she spoke, he examined my ankle, and I tried not to show how much it hurt when he poked it. At the end of it, we waited patiently for the punishment.

"Then I suppose you've already learned your lesson," Dad said, glancing back and forth between us. Julia looked surprised, but I wasn't. "Are you coming with us to the hospital, Julia? I can call your parents."

"The hospital!?" we gasped in unison.

"It's that bad?" Julia continued, on the verge of tears again.

"It doesn't hurt that much, Dad," I insisted. "You can fix it."

He laughed, ruffling my hair. "Sorry, kid. You're not a spaceship, and I'm not a medical doctor. I can't tell if it's a sprain or fracture. You need an x-ray."

It was my turn to cry again. I reached out to Julia, taking her hand. "Will you come?" I practically begged her.

She nodded quickly. "Of course. I will never, ever, ever, ever leave you again."