Sudden Impact (7 page)

“We all wish that,” I said.

“You never gave up on me, did you? Not even when they tried to keep you away.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“You're pretty amazing, you know.”

I think it was the first time anyone had ever said that to me. I didn't know what to say, so I just looked away. Then he took my hand and held it in his. We both said nothing after that. When I turned my head and looked at him he had this big goofy grin on his face. And I laughed out loud.

A few weeks later, when Kurt was finally allowed to go back to school, I watched people trying to be nice to him—too nice. Nobody slapped him on the back. The guys all acted like they were talking to a little old lady when they saw him. Kurt had lost weight and he still looked, well, sick. But he was improving.

Everyone avoided talking about Jason when Kurt was around. Then one day at
lunch Dorfman asked
,
“What's it feel like to be walking around with a piece of old Jason inside you keeping you alive?”

I think until then Kurt had been treating himself like he was a piece of china about to break. Finally somebody had come out and asked him an honest question.

Kurt took a big bite of his sandwich, chewed with a very serious look on his face and swallowed. The table had gone silent. The guys were waiting to see if Kurt was going to crack. Instead he lit into a smile.

“It feels good,” he said. “Real good. And now I know what Jason meant about not wimping out when the going gets tough.” The guys thought Kurt was talking about Jason, but he was sitting across the table, looking straight at me. I knew what he was getting at, even if they didn't.

“You gonna be able to play soccer again next year?” Leach asked.

“I don't know,” Kurt said. “I'll have to see. But if I do, it'll be like two halfbacks for the price of one, you know what I mean?”

Leach nodded. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

Walking home together after school that day, Kurt and I saw a young pigeon fly into the side of a moving car. The car kept going, but the pigeon fell into the street.

We ran over to it and Kurt picked it up.

“One of its wings is broken,” I said. “Too bad. It's just a young one too.”

The driver saw us run onto the street in his rear-view mirror, so he backed up. He looked at the bird in Kurt's hands. “Ah, too bad for the little thing. The stupid bird flew right into the side of my car. There was nothing I could do.”

“The wing's busted,” Kurt said.

“I can see. Look, kid, the best thing to do when a wild animal gets hurt like that is to just put it in the bushes and let it die.”

Kurt looked at the guy and said, “Right. Thanks for the advice.”

The driver put his car in gear. He leaned out the window. “Look, I'm sorry, but these things happen all the time.” And then he drove off.

“What do you think?” I asked Kurt.

“I think the guy's full of it,” Kurt said. “I think I know a vet who'd be willing to try to put a splint on the wing. And I'll take care of it until it heals.”

“Right,” I said. “Then maybe you and I can teach it to fly all over again.”

Lesley Choyce
is the author of over fifty books for children, young adults and adults, including two books in the Orca Soundings Series,
Refuge Cov
e, and
Thunderbowl
. Lesley lives, surfs and performs spoken word in Nova Scotia.

If you would like further
information about organ donation
or becoming an organ donor,
please check the following websites:

www.organdonor.gov

www.shareyourlife.org

www.hc-sc.gc.ca/english/organandtissue

www.givelife.ca

Wired
by Sigmund Brouwer

I cut left to miss a boulder sticking out of the snow. I ducked beneath a branch. I hit a jump at freeway speed. It launched me into the air at least one story off the ground. I leaned forward and made sure my skis stayed straight
.

I thumped back to earth and crouched low, so I would block less wind. At this speed, the trees on each side of the slope seemed like flashing fence boards
.

Halfway down the run I knew I was skiing the best I ever had. If I kept pushing, I would easily stay at number one
.

Beneath my helmet, I grinned my grin of fear. And as I cut into a steep turn, I saw it. But couldn't believe it
.

Wire. Black wire stretched between two trees at waist height. I was flashing toward it at thirty meters per second. Hitting the wire at that speed would slice me in two
.

Spoiled Rotten
by Dayle Campbell Gaetz

I landed heavily on the rough wood of the dock. Somehow I tripped over the rope in my hand and fell sideways. But I never let go of that rope. I scrambled to my feet and eased the boat against the dock
.

Dad stepped off to tie the stern rope while I tied the bow. I waited for him to say, “Nice work,” or, “Well done,” or maybe, “Sorry I yelled at you,” but he didn't even look my way. He patted the pockets of his shorts. “Anyone seen my wallet?” he asked
.

Amy appeared from nowhere. “I'll get it, Dad,” she said and disappeared into the cabin
.

I stared after her. Dad? Since when was he her dad? This kid wanted everything that was mine
.