“And it’s done!” Cree stood back admiring his wonderful finished project.
The tree house stood about twelve feet straight up in what was easily the coolest tree on my block. It could fit Cree and his four friends comfortably and they’d still have room to play around with whatever they felt like doing. He’d just finished securing the ladder to the structure with bailing wire and was quite impressed with his work (at age eight, Cree could do quite a lot with his hands).
The only thing left to do was test the complex addition, so Cree began. First, he grabbed the bottom step as tight as his little hands would allow and…
“Ahahahahahah, whew! That one’s on tight,” he commented, standing back and straightened his now loose shirt.
He stepped up a rung and gave the next one the same treatment, shaking it violently with the special emphasis on the sound effects. Each step proved that He’d found a proper ladder as Cree went up all twelve of rungs… the rungs were close to a foot apart of course.
Reaching the last rung, Cree gave and extra hard yank to finalize his work, and suddenly, his yell turned into a scream of panic as realization struck that he was flying backwards.
“Uhh,” the wind rushed out of Cree’s tiny lungs with a sudden whoosh; dust filling the air around him (coating him in a fine layer).
“That was scary,” He thought in awe to myself… “Why can’t I move?”
He’d fallen only about twelve feet, so simple logic told him why he couldn’t…
“Oh no, what if every bone in my body’s broken? What if I’m dying? Why did I build this so far away from my house?”
With every little bit of energy Cree could muster, he tried shouting as loud as he could for help… to no avail. His backyard was about a hundred square meters and his closest neighbors weren’t home.
Hope
Suddenly Cree heard his dad driving towards him on the lawnmower…
“He must be emptying the grass! Yea!”
“Cree, get out of the way!” his dad yelled as he drove closer, “what happened?” His tone changed abruptly as he saw the fallen ladder, and son lying there helpless.
“I can’t move.”
“Well, I should think not… you probably got that whole bag of wind knocked out of you.”
His dad picked Cree up, and carried him to the lawn mower. He completely forgot about his yard chores and took him inside to lie on the couch.
“Here, drink this,” the water tasted so good on Cree’s dirt covered lips…
“Is Cree here?” he heard his buddy, John at the back door.
“Yeah, come on in.”
“What happened to you Cree?” John asked more out of curiosity than actual concern.
“Oh, nothing, I just fell off my tree house.”
“Cool, wanna to go riding?”
“Sure, let me get my hat,” Cree said as he hopped up and ran to his room to get his hat and boots on.
“Cree, John, don’t do anything dumb on those horses,” his mom warned as they rushed through the kitchen.
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