Read Online Finding the Worm by Mark Goldblatt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mark Goldblatt
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coming from the tree, right around where the sneakers were dangling. I glanced up and saw a shadow clinging to the branch maybe five feet below them.
“It’s
me
, Julian!”
“Beverly?”
“Help me. I’m stuck. I can’t move,” she said.
“What are you doing in the tree?”
“Please!”
“All right, I’m coming.” The lowest branch was just out of reach, so I had to jump straight up to catch hold of it. After I pulled myself up, there were plenty of other branches to grab for balance. Beverly was another twenty-five feet up and ten feet out from the trunk, hanging down like a human hammock, with her arms and legs wrapped around the branch.
“Hurry!”
It wasn’t a hard climb. The branches were close together, and you could pretty much step up from one branch to the next. It didn’t get hairy until the branch below Beverly’s, which was thinner than the lower ones. I could feel it starting to sag as soon as I put my weight on it, so I dropped down and shinnied out until I was right underneath her.
“All right, I’m here,” I said, then tapped her foot.
“Don’t touch me!”
“All right … but what do you want me to do?”
“Race me,” she said.
“What?”
She started to crack up. “My hero!”
“Are you stuck or not?”
“What do
you
think?”
She spun around and sat on the branch, then squirreled out the last five feet, reached up with her left hand, and snatched down Quentin’s sneakers. Then she dropped them. It took a long time for the sneakers to thud onto the ground. It kind of spooked me, how long it took. The sound of them hitting down seemed like it came from about a mile below us. I’d never climbed so high, not even in a neighborhood tree. I doubted Beverly had either. Not to mention she was so far out on her branch that it had drooped down level with mine, even though my branch was lower on the trunk of the tree.
“Want to keep going?” she said.
“Keep going where?”
“To the top.”
“No!”
“C’mon, we’re halfway already.”
“The branches aren’t strong enough, Beverly.”
She stood up, which caused her branch to droop even more. Balancing herself with just her fingertips against the branch above hers, she took a step farther out, and her branch made a noise that sounded like a groan. I was about to tell her to stop, but she stepped off her branch and onto mine, which caused it to droop and groan too. I tightened my grip and pressed my stomach into the bark. It felt cold and damp, but I wasn’t letting go. With how much the branch was drooping, my head was actuallycloser to the ground than my feet were. It was a queasy, terrifying feeling.
“You’re going to kill us both!”
“You think so?”
She hopped several times on one foot. Every time she landed, the branch vibrated into my guts.
“Stop it!”
“Say I’m a better climber than you are!”
“What?”
“Admit it,” she said. “I’m a better climber than you are.”
“All right, I admit it,” I said.
“What do you admit?”
“You’re a better climber than I am,” I said.
“And a faster runner.”
“C’mon, Beverly!”
“Just admit it!”
“But it’s not true! I’m not going to admit something that’s not true!”
She began hopping up and down again.
“Stop doing that!”
She stopped and said, “Then admit it. Admit I’m faster than you. Just say the words, all right?”
“Nothing’s going to change if I say it.”
“Then why not say it?”
“I told you,” I said. “It’s not true.
Why is that so hard to understand
?”
“So you’re like George Washington?”
“What does that mean?”
“
You cannot tell a lie
, right?”
“This is a stupid conversation,” I said.
That made her hop up and down again.
“I’m
not
doing it, Beverly!”
She stopped jumping up and down. “You’re really afraid, aren’t you?”
“I’m afraid of getting killed, yes.”
She stepped over me, then stretched and swung from branch to branch
“It’s
me
, Julian!”
“Beverly?”
“Help me. I’m stuck. I can’t move,” she said.
“What are you doing in the tree?”
“Please!”
“All right, I’m coming.” The lowest branch was just out of reach, so I had to jump straight up to catch hold of it. After I pulled myself up, there were plenty of other branches to grab for balance. Beverly was another twenty-five feet up and ten feet out from the trunk, hanging down like a human hammock, with her arms and legs wrapped around the branch.
“Hurry!”
It wasn’t a hard climb. The branches were close together, and you could pretty much step up from one branch to the next. It didn’t get hairy until the branch below Beverly’s, which was thinner than the lower ones. I could feel it starting to sag as soon as I put my weight on it, so I dropped down and shinnied out until I was right underneath her.
“All right, I’m here,” I said, then tapped her foot.
“Don’t touch me!”
“All right … but what do you want me to do?”
“Race me,” she said.
“What?”
She started to crack up. “My hero!”
“Are you stuck or not?”
“What do
you
think?”
She spun around and sat on the branch, then squirreled out the last five feet, reached up with her left hand, and snatched down Quentin’s sneakers. Then she dropped them. It took a long time for the sneakers to thud onto the ground. It kind of spooked me, how long it took. The sound of them hitting down seemed like it came from about a mile below us. I’d never climbed so high, not even in a neighborhood tree. I doubted Beverly had either. Not to mention she was so far out on her branch that it had drooped down level with mine, even though my branch was lower on the trunk of the tree.
“Want to keep going?” she said.
“Keep going where?”
“To the top.”
“No!”
“C’mon, we’re halfway already.”
“The branches aren’t strong enough, Beverly.”
She stood up, which caused her branch to droop even more. Balancing herself with just her fingertips against the branch above hers, she took a step farther out, and her branch made a noise that sounded like a groan. I was about to tell her to stop, but she stepped off her branch and onto mine, which caused it to droop and groan too. I tightened my grip and pressed my stomach into the bark. It felt cold and damp, but I wasn’t letting go. With how much the branch was drooping, my head was actuallycloser to the ground than my feet were. It was a queasy, terrifying feeling.
“You’re going to kill us both!”
“You think so?”
She hopped several times on one foot. Every time she landed, the branch vibrated into my guts.
“Stop it!”
“Say I’m a better climber than you are!”
“What?”
“Admit it,” she said. “I’m a better climber than you are.”
“All right, I admit it,” I said.
“What do you admit?”
“You’re a better climber than I am,” I said.
“And a faster runner.”
“C’mon, Beverly!”
“Just admit it!”
“But it’s not true! I’m not going to admit something that’s not true!”
She began hopping up and down again.
“Stop doing that!”
She stopped and said, “Then admit it. Admit I’m faster than you. Just say the words, all right?”
“Nothing’s going to change if I say it.”
“Then why not say it?”
“I told you,” I said. “It’s not true.
Why is that so hard to understand
?”
“So you’re like George Washington?”
“What does that mean?”
“
You cannot tell a lie
, right?”
“This is a stupid conversation,” I said.
That made her hop up and down again.
“I’m
not
doing it, Beverly!”
She stopped jumping up and down. “You’re really afraid, aren’t you?”
“I’m afraid of getting killed, yes.”
She stepped over me, then stretched and swung from branch to branch
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