Activity

Gavril

“We’re climbing the stairs?” Riure asked.

I nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see me and quickly added.

“Yes.”

Riure laughed her bright, silvery laugh.

“Oh boy. That’ll be fun. I’d better go in back, so I don’t slow anyone down.”

I chuckled, enough to seem polite, but not enough that it would seem as though I was laughing at her.

“And yes, I think it’d be nice to have help. Thanks for offering.” She smiled, her eyes fixed on a point near me.

I offered my arm and she took it, her small fingers clutching a firm hold on the rough red fabric.

“Don’t worry, you can’t possibly be slower than Liorah,” I whispered as though I was sharing a secret. “She’s horrified of heights. It was almost impossible to get her across the bridge, and there’s no earthly way I’ll get her onto the stairs. It’ll take prayer and a medium-sized miracle to get her up there.” I said, only half-joking.

“I’d appreciate it if you have a prayer to spare. I’m afraid mine won’t be enough this time,” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. I bit my tongue, wishing I hadn’t said anything. Not that I was ashamed of my faith, to the contrary, but I didn’t go around saying things like that. In my position, a comment like that could spark a conflict, and conflict could endanger others.

“I’m sorry, I don’t– I don’t know if you–” I stammered, at a loss for words for the first time in a long while. Why had I said that?! Many– most– Lehabim believed as we did, but it wasn’t nearly as universal among the other tribes and those from other countries.

We reached the chasm and I swallowed, anxiety writhing in my stomach. Now I was responsible for another life besides my own. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

“The chasm is about three steps across, four for you. I’ll go ahead and walk backward. Just hold my hands, and I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

It was a promise I was ill-equipped to make, but I would rather fall in the chasm myself than allow anything to happen to her.

Riure nodded, her sightless eyes full of trust. Trust I didn’t deserve, and I was afraid I couldn’t live up to. I turned, carefully placing my feet so I could keep my balance.

Riure inched after me. Her hands gripped mine so tightly it hurt, but I didn’t say anything. It must have been a terrifying experience to cross that bridge without knowing how deep the chasm was, or how narrow the bridge. Once or twice, her feet stepped too near the edge that my throat closed, but I pulled her away just in time.

“Good job, one more step.” I coaxed. The bridge gave an ominous creak and I tugged her across, much harder than I’d intended. She stumbled but kept her balance. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, she was on solid ground once more. Her dog padded after her, unconcerned by the height.

“Here’s the banister,” I said, placing her hand on it. “You’re about two steps away from the cliff, so don’t go far.” I was slightly breathless from the experience. It had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done. The thought that a single mistake on my part might cost her her life was frightening.

“Well done, you did that perfectly,” I told Riure. The tension slowly drained out of me.

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@joelle-stone