Andrew woke with a start, then saw me.
I barely slept.
I listened to the storm and the kid breathing.
I kept thinking how close it was.
Dawn came gray.
The wind eased.
Andrew woke with a start, then saw me.
He looked embarrassed.
“You’re still here,” he said.
“I’m still here,” I answered.
“Did I cry?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
He looked embarrassed.
I shrugged. “You’re alive. Crying is allowed.”
“Who was in charge?”
He stared at me like that was brand-new information.
We got in my car.
Andrew sat wrapped in my spare blanket.
He stared out the window like the trees might chase us.
“Who was in charge?” I asked.
He hesitated.
And one frantic man with a whistle.
Then whispered, “Mr. Reed.”
My gut tightened.
We reached the base.
The school bus was there.
Kids milling around. A few parents.
And one frantic man with a whistle.
I got out and shut the door hard.
Mr. Reed.
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