Orange Bag

"Kase!!"

"Did you find it?" I asked, hopefully.

"No. Yes, but no. I know where it is, but I don't think I could ever get it. You probably couldn't either."

"Where. Is. It."

"It's up in a tree! A very tall tree. And I'm really short, and I can't climb trees. Even the little kids trees, and this is a really, really tall tree. You know those two hundred year old trees we saw once? It's that tall."

"I know the one you're talking about. Really? How did it get up there?!"

"I don't know!! But it's up there!!"

...

Sure enough, I followed her outside, and there it was.

A fancy orange bag in a very tall tree.

Wait.

"I think I know why it's up there."

"Why?" Oh God. I don't want to ruin her little mind, but here we go.

"I think Dad doesn't like the bag. He was working on that tree yesterday. He had a big ladder. It's the only possible explanation."

"Okay, but how do we get it downnnnn?"

"Well...oh, cool! Dad left the ladder there!"

"Don't hurt yourself!"

"I won't. Trust me."

...

I should've taken her advice.

Not that I've broken a bone. Yet. But this ladder is shaking like crazy and I'm terrified. My heart is pumping in the way that makes you sick. You know how sometimes your heart can pump loud and it makes you sick?

Never mind. I've got a bag to get.

Oh, crap. I'm going to have to climb to the top of the ladder, where I could easily fall off.

Deep breaths. You got this, Kase.

Thankfully, I have great balance. That sounds like bragging, but it's true. It's because I like to snowboard a lot. Snowboarding gives you epic balance skills. Still, I'm terrified. I don't want to die because I was trying to get an orange leather bag out of a tree. Because I was trying to get twenty-five bucks. That would be the worst thing, in my mind. The worst way to die. I want to die standing up for something really important. But I think I am, in a way. 

My sister. Yes.

Okay. Stop thinking. You don't want to lose concentration and fall, do you?

You got this, Kase.

You got this.

My feet are firmly planted on the top of the ladder. I got this. I'm not going to die. 

I reach out.

Oh.

Crap.

...

I heard a crunch, and my arm became fire. I couldn't see through the sobbing, but I assume it wasn't pretty.

"MUM!" Jean screams. She can scream like no other human.

"We have to get you to A & E." Joan says right afterward.

I'm surprised she knows that at her age. 

I try to say that, but it comes out in a moan. My pain is making it hard to talk.

"Or the hospital, maybe."

"Darling, what's-oh. Oh, God, okay. Get in my car. I'll drive to A & E."

...

"Why were you using that ladder? Oh God, darling, you are so going to be grounded when you feel better." 

We're in the waiting room.

"Mum, your..."

Pain.

"Your bag was in..."

"I get it, darling. Oh. In that case, you're not grounded. You should have gotten me to do it, but...it wasn't about the money anymore, was it?"

"A little bit not."

"You've inspired me. I don't know why that bag matters so much to me. My son broke his arm trying to get it, but what he was really trying to get was love."

"That's..."

Extreme pain.

"So corny."

I say it breathlessly. I'm in so much pain, I can barely function. Honest to God.

...

"I'm so sorry!"

My sister is sobbing louder than the wind before a miserable school day. It's not her fault. Not really. I'm the one who got on the ladder. I got put out. My arm is in a cast now. It's pretty cool, actually. I can't wait until I can go home.

"It's not your fault, Jean."

"It is SO my fault."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Joan, you told me not to hurt myself. I didn't listen to you."

She smiled again, like sunshine coming out. I'll never take that cheeky grin for granted ever again.

"You're right. Of course it was your fault!" She laughs. "But it's still sad, seeing you like this." 

"It's okay, Jean."

...

I'm home now!

My mum's been a lot nicer, recently. Maybe she was the Grinch and her heart grew three sizes or something. I don't know.

Jean drew an orange bag on my cast as a joke. It was funny, too. I laughed.

I'm going back to school tomorrow. I can't wait to tell my friends what happened. I bet they'll find it hilarious.

I think I've learned a lot, over these few days. Dad would be proud of me. He's on a business trip. He left super early on the morning of the day I broke my arm. Like 5 AM sort of early. Definitely ages before I woke up. I like to sleep in.

...

I called Dad up and told him about everything. He was mad at Mum, but other than that, he didn't seem too worried. That sounds like I have a really mean Dad, but I don't. He just only gives sympathy in the moment. In fact, he says: 'All's well that ends well' a lot. It is an interesting thing about him.

He told me that the reason why he put the bag in the tree was because he was hoping her heart would grow three sizes. Like they just did today. But I didn't tell him anything about that. You know why?

I think it will be a nice surprise for him, when he gets back.