We’d been dating for four months, and I still seemed to be a person of uncertain standing in her life. She hadn’t introduced me to any of her friends; it was starting to be a point of contention.
She had lived in that part of town longer than I had, more than a year. I had introduced her to my work friends, shortly after we met, and my college friend, who lived nearby her apartment.
She hadn’t offered to introduce me to any of her friends. I didn’t like the fact that I had to ask her, and then ask again.
I decided to tell her, clearly, when we met for coffee on Saturday, that I couldn’t continue this way.
She looked at me anxiously, as if she was not certain of her standing with me. “It’s not easy for me to make friends,” she said, quietly.
“This doesn't look safe,” Gavin muttered to himself.
Gavin stood at the entrance to the rickety old bridge that crossed the raging river. The bridge was uneven, so much so that each individual board looked like it would tumble into the water at any moment. And the rope guides? Each was individual as if somewhere along the way a section broke and they just repaired the section with whatever they had handy, possibly string.
Gavin was in a dilemma. He needed to cross the river. The next crossing point was 7 miles upstream. Who knew if the bridge there would be any better than this one? Timelines were tight. He had spent a month hiking through the ancient forests in Central America. He now needed to get to the airport. This was the last hurdle on that trek.
“It’s always a test,” thought Gavin as he put his first foot on the bridge. It shook wildly. He stepped back quickly. “Chicken,” he chided himself, causing a smile to cross his lips. “A Delorean would be handy right about now. It’s funny how certain experiences are raised without bidding them,” he reflected.
Gavin braced himself and put both feet on the bridge when he heard a voice calling help off to his left. Carefully turning his head he spotted the young boy being swept down the river. Without thinking Gavin rushed out to the spot where the boy would be passing under the bridge, bent down and grabbed hold of his arm, causing Gavin to nearly topple into the raging waters himself. He held on tight and pulled the boy onto the bridge with him where they both sat gasping for air.
“Pedro!” a frantic voice called as she reached the bridge.
“Stop,” yelled Gavin. “We will come to you.” He urged Pedro to get up and go to his mama while he sat there a while longer contemplating his fate. He looked forlornly back at his backpack lying on its side at the beginning of the bridge. Gavin shook his head and stood up, almost falling into the river. He sat back down quickly.
Suddenly he felt feet pounding on the end of the bridge. When he looked up Pedro was passing him quickly on his way to the other end of the bridge. Pedro picked up the backpack struggling to keep it in the air. He haphazardly wandered across the bridge throwing scares into Gavin when the pack almost went into the river. Finally Pedro reached Gavin and said,”Thank you,” offering Gavin the backpack. Gavin stood up and took the pack. Carefully he picked his way across the bridge as Pedro scampered back to his mama.
“How can I thank you?” she asked.
Gavin smiled. “I need a ride to the airport.”
Pedro’s mother smiled as she pointed to her burros.
Thank you for the round-up and the new prompts!
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Uncertain Standing
We’d been dating for four months, and I still seemed to be a person of uncertain standing in her life. She hadn’t introduced me to any of her friends; it was starting to be a point of contention.
She had lived in that part of town longer than I had, more than a year. I had introduced her to my work friends, shortly after we met, and my college friend, who lived nearby her apartment.
She hadn’t offered to introduce me to any of her friends. I didn’t like the fact that I had to ask her, and then ask again.
I decided to tell her, clearly, when we met for coffee on Saturday, that I couldn’t continue this way.
She looked at me anxiously, as if she was not certain of her standing with me. “It’s not easy for me to make friends,” she said, quietly.
I reached across the table and took her hand.
To Cross Or Not To Cross
“This doesn't look safe,” Gavin muttered to himself.
Gavin stood at the entrance to the rickety old bridge that crossed the raging river. The bridge was uneven, so much so that each individual board looked like it would tumble into the water at any moment. And the rope guides? Each was individual as if somewhere along the way a section broke and they just repaired the section with whatever they had handy, possibly string.
Gavin was in a dilemma. He needed to cross the river. The next crossing point was 7 miles upstream. Who knew if the bridge there would be any better than this one? Timelines were tight. He had spent a month hiking through the ancient forests in Central America. He now needed to get to the airport. This was the last hurdle on that trek.
“It’s always a test,” thought Gavin as he put his first foot on the bridge. It shook wildly. He stepped back quickly. “Chicken,” he chided himself, causing a smile to cross his lips. “A Delorean would be handy right about now. It’s funny how certain experiences are raised without bidding them,” he reflected.
Gavin braced himself and put both feet on the bridge when he heard a voice calling help off to his left. Carefully turning his head he spotted the young boy being swept down the river. Without thinking Gavin rushed out to the spot where the boy would be passing under the bridge, bent down and grabbed hold of his arm, causing Gavin to nearly topple into the raging waters himself. He held on tight and pulled the boy onto the bridge with him where they both sat gasping for air.
“Pedro!” a frantic voice called as she reached the bridge.
“Stop,” yelled Gavin. “We will come to you.” He urged Pedro to get up and go to his mama while he sat there a while longer contemplating his fate. He looked forlornly back at his backpack lying on its side at the beginning of the bridge. Gavin shook his head and stood up, almost falling into the river. He sat back down quickly.
Suddenly he felt feet pounding on the end of the bridge. When he looked up Pedro was passing him quickly on his way to the other end of the bridge. Pedro picked up the backpack struggling to keep it in the air. He haphazardly wandered across the bridge throwing scares into Gavin when the pack almost went into the river. Finally Pedro reached Gavin and said,”Thank you,” offering Gavin the backpack. Gavin stood up and took the pack. Carefully he picked his way across the bridge as Pedro scampered back to his mama.
“How can I thank you?” she asked.
Gavin smiled. “I need a ride to the airport.”
Pedro’s mother smiled as she pointed to her burros.
“Well,” thought Gavin, “It beats walking.”