Becoming Robin - 3 & 4 -

Becoming Robin By Zoe Taylor Allison's Wonderland -/- Woodland Peril   “Margie? I’m scared,” I sobbed. A few droplets of rain pelted the top of my head. “Where… rr… ick!” I didn’t even think about reception out here, especially on my archaic phone. I was only getting garbled responses, and imagined Margie must've been getting the same from me. “Margie, I’m sorry. I went walking in the woods, and I fell. I… I must’ve blacked out.”

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Chapter 3 - Allison's Wonderland
What else could I do, but go along for the ride by this point? I was trapped between a rock and a silk place, though as traps go things could be worse. Allison actually thought I was a girl, and what’s more, she expressed great concern about leaving me alone in my unstable state. How could I turn down the possibility of my first real friend since the third grade?

“Like I said, Mom’s making tacos.” I snapped back to reality as Allison led me across our front yards. Where Margie’s lawn looked like it hadn’t had any attention in a couple of weeks, the Jones’ was clean-trimmed without a blade out of place. I couldn’t help but think of all those jokes people make about ‘Keeping up with the Joneses.’ It was a pretty house, I’ll admit, as well. All of the houses here were beautiful, and much larger than I was used to though, with more open space outside.

“You don’t say much do you?” she offered. “That’s okay though. Oh, it’s just Mom and me today. My dad’s out of town on business.” I hesitated at the doorstep and wiped my feet while Allison flung the door open. I was sure the whole neighborhood heard her bellowing.

“MO-OM! We’ve got a guest!”

“I’m in the kitchen dear!” The response came. Allison wasted no time in grabbing me by the hand this time, and hauling me inside, down a short hallway from the foyer, and into the kitchen. Admittedly she didn’t have much resistance from me. I admired Allison’s forwardness. Her warm, caring nature offset any edge her assertiveness might otherwise have held.

Standing at the polished gas range was a woman that I would never have guessed to be Allison’s mother: another older sister, maybe. I remembered Kelly having a slightly stronger jaw, but otherwise the three’s family resemblance could definitely be seen. She had an average frame and build, with about an inch on me in height, but I couldn’t help noting that she seemed very poised.

The sounds and smells of simmering taco meat assaulted my senses, the tingly, lingering spice scent causing me to stop and inhale sharply. My stomach rumbled in angry protest of my having not eaten anything since leaving home.

Allison cheerily announced, “Mom, this is Margie’s sister Robin.”

The woman turned and gave me a puzzled look for just a moment. Oh crap. Did Margie tell her about me being her half-brother? Whatever she was thinking, it seemed to pass just as quickly, as she offered a warm smile. “How do you do, Robin?”

I nervously extended my hand to her, responding in a shy tone as she accepted it, “Nice to meet you ma’am.”

She laughed. “Oh, Allison, I like her already.”

Allison stuck her tongue out, but smiled after, presumably to avoid a family feud in front of a visitor. “I hope it’s okay that I invited her over for lunch?” Phew. She didn’t mention the whole ‘run bawling like a freak back into the house’ thing.

“Of course, dear: it’ll be ready in about five more minutes. Why don’t you girls go downstairs and I’ll bring it to you? Oh Robin,” I flinched as she turned her attention back to me.

“Do you want lettuce on yours?”

I shook my head. “No thank you ma’am.”

“Please, call me Carol.”

“Yes ma--” I cut myself off, smiling sheepishly. “Carol. Thank you.”

“Thanks Mom!” Allison squealed with delight as she ran off toward the other end of the kitchen, stopping to look back at me.

I plodded along with my head down, trying my best not to make waves. Unfortunately for me, that just made more waves.

“Robin, dear, are you alright?” Carol asked with concern as I reached Allison’s side. Her daughter responded while giving me a comforting hug. I needed that more than she could know right then.

“She’s just had a really rough week.”

I smiled a little, adding a moment later, “My mom’s in the hospital. That’s why I’m staying with Margie.” I kept it short and simple because I really didn’t want to think about it anymore. I had worked my way from nervous wreck back up to numb. As far as I was concerned, it was an improvement.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. If there’s anything we can do, or if you need someone to talk to, just let me know okay?”

I nodded. I wanted to melt into the wall and fade away. I think Allison might have sensed it, though not for the reasons she thought, I’m sure, as I once again found myself taken by the hand and led into another hallway, and down a set of carpeted stairs. The Jones’ home was a lot like Margie’s on the outside, but on the inside, the floor plan was subtly different. For one thing, Margie didn’t have a basement.

I’ll admit that at first I thought it a little weird to have an entertainment room in a basement, at least when Allison first mentioned it. I mean, to me basements were dank, creepy places full of cobwebs and spiders!

Despite being wholly underground, the area was well lit and beautifully decorated with thick, plush mauve carpeting, a mahogany bar with bar stools set up, and a matched beige sofa and chair set in front of a fifty inch plasma screen TV.

“Oh. My. God,” I whispered as I hit the bottom step.

Allison giggled. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Hey, you want a soda? The bar’s just for atmosphere; the mini-fridge’s stocked with soft drinks.” As she spoke, she stepped around behind it, opening the fridge.

“Yes please,” I said quietly as I leaned over the mahogany bar top to see what was there. As I scanned the single-line rows of root beer, colas (regular and diet), and fruit drink boxes, it became quickly apparent that someone in this house was a neat freak. I couldn’t complain though. It made spotting my beverage of choice a simple task!

“You have red cream soda?” My voice squeaked a little.

“You like red cream soda?” Her eyes lit up. She grabbed two, offering me one. “You’re the first girl I’ve met besides me who loves this stuff. I blame daddy though. He got me hooked when I was younger.”

‘Well, girl is debatable,’ I thought to myself as she came back around. I had begun to feel guilty again, both because I was even in this position, but also that I had been lying to someone who had been nothing but kind to me since we met, albeit only a short time ago.

As I nestled into the sofa, Allison sat down beside me, turning to face me. “Okay, can I ask you something?”

I stiffened a little. Her baby blues locked onto my face for just the briefest of moments before I looked away again then nodded.

“There’s something else bothering you, Robin. You mentioned it before, and I think mom picked up on it too. It’s just us girls here, and anything you say won’t leave this room. I promise.”

What was with this girl? Why was she being so nice to me? And worse yet, why was I leading her on like this? I mean, it’s not my fault she heard me, presumably over the fence, and she did technically come into Margie’s house uninvited.

Oh, who was I kidding? I would have done the same thing if I were her. Weird girl has a panic attack and runs like a rabbit when you say hello? That bears making sure she’s not going to do something stupid in my book. Never mind that our sisters were best friends in college.

“I…” I began, but before I could continue, Carol called from the top of the stairs, “Tacos are ready. I hope you girls are hungry!”

Allison glared in the general direction of the stairway, turning her gaze more softly on me, as if pleading for me to continue.

“…haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

She pouted, but didn’t press the matter any further. As she rose, she offered me her hand, which I gladly accepted, hoisting myself up. It’s not that I was a big girl, or guy, whatever, but I was pretty badly out of shape, with no muscle tone to speak of, and a little baby fat still hanging on here and there. Add to that that I felt emotionally and mentally drained.

“After lunch I’ll work on your nails if you still want?” She offered, wiggling her own sparkly-pinkness at me, as her mother set two down a pair of plates on the bar.

With two tacos each, the ornamental flower design was just barely visible underneath at the center of our plates. I had to wonder if all their dishes were like this, or if she was breaking out the ‘Not-good-but-not-everyday’ china on my account.

I got a definite sense that Allison was of the girly-girl nature, though certainly not as shallow as I had always imagined such girls to be. She gushed over lunch about school, friends, girl scouts, boys, and music, all in the span of about five minutes.

Silence descended. Well, silence and the sound of two hungry teenagers ravenously devouring yummy tacos. I finished well before she had, and out of nowhere I leaned over to hug her, blushing a moment later after I realized what I’d just done. Fortunately she didn’t notice the blush at least, engrossed in trying to catch up with me.

“Thanks Ally. That was really good.”

“Mom’s an awesome cook. She’s been bugging me to learn too, but my cooking knowledge extends as far as working the microwave.”

I stifled a small laugh at that. She gave me an odd look, to which I smiled sheepishly.

“It’s been just Mom and me for so long that I’ve been cooking for years.”

“Hey yeah, I wanted to ask about that, but I didn’t want to be nosey.”

“About what? My mom and me?” She nodded, so I continued. “Well, she had a few boyfriends over the years, but I guess she just never really got over my dad, and a lot of them couldn’t get over her having a-” I had to catch myself. I very nearly said ‘son’. I pretended I needed to sneeze then cleared my throat, “Sorry. I was excess baggage, but they were all losers anyway.”

It felt weird, opening up to Allison like this. For a second, I almost forgot I was supposed to be feeling guilty. I saw a brief smile cross her lips as she hopped up off the barstool and picked up our plates.

“Come on; let’s go do something about those nails. I’d love to play with your hair too, but I don’t want to scare you off or anything yet.” At this point, I was so deep in this closet I was finding Christmas presents, so I resigned myself to my fate, smiling a little.

“Thanks Ally. That sounds like fun.” It really did sound like fun. She brightened a little and led me upstairs, around a blind corner that I hadn’t gotten a good look at yet. A washroom lay just beyond a set of stairs leading to the next floor.

Much as I expected, the second floor of her home was a different layout than Margie’s. There were some similarities though. There were two smaller bedrooms to accommodate a larger master bedroom/bathroom, where Margie and I shared the upstairs bathroom at her house.

I followed Allison into the second of the two bedrooms. The first, on the right, was closed, so I just ignored it for the moment, presuming it to be Kelly’s. I half expected to be assaulted by a sea of pink when I entered Allison’s room. I’d never been in a girl’s room before, unless my new bedroom counted, so I wasn’t sure what to expect It was dusty rose, actually, though it worked really well to create an atmosphere of Teen Girl Space.

The lacey white bedding and curtains should have looked boring, but the contrast to the walls actually worked really well. Posters of popular bands and singers clung to the walls in a way that was almost too disorderly not to be intentional. I couldn’t help staring at a cute anime poster, too. Allison had just won some more cool points. Not that I had been into anime, but it was just so cute that it made me smile.

“Do you wear makeup?” She asked, as she pointed to a vanity that I hadn’t noticed as I entered. The surface was oak, supporting an oval mirror with a matching wood veneer frame. Various bottles, vials, compacts, and perfumes were scattered around. I surmised that she wanted me to sit at the padded stool placed before it, and as I did she retrieved a folded cloth nail care kit from one drawer, afterward pulling over another stool from a corner of the room and sitting beside me.

“Don’t worry.” She reassured, “I’m just going to shape your nails a little. So?”

I looked blankly at her for a second as she took my left hand and started working. It took me a second for my mind to sync with the conversation. “Oh, right. Sorry. Um… no, I don’t really wear makeup other than doing my toenails sometimes.”

She paused in her nail filing to stare at me. I could understand where she was coming from in her confusion, or was that calculating?

“Tomboy, eh? My sister was a tomboy for like, the first fifteen years of her life,” she offered

“Where’s your bathroom, Allison?” I asked, my free hand moving to my stomach.

“Next door down past Kelly’s room,” she said as she released my hand, adding a moment later, “Everything okay?”

I nodded as I stood and excused myself. I practically ran for the bathroom, locking the door behind me. The bathroom was of moderate size, decorated in mauve tiles halfway up the wall, with light rose-colored wallpaper going the rest of the way, a large art deco etched-border mirror, and marble sink and countertop.

To my credit, I managed to get myself under control again before I was actually, physically sick. I splashed some water on my face and gently toweled it dry, placing the white wash cloth in the hamper as I stepped out again, returning to Allison’s room.

“Better?” She asked, now sitting on her bed, sorting through an old shoe box full of nail polish. There must have been fifty bottles, varying in shades and hues of reds, blues, greens, and purples.

I nodded, returning to my seat at her vanity. “Sorry about that. I thought I was going to be sick for a second there.”

“Mom’s cooking has that effect on people.” She grinned.

I shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s just nerves, I guess.”

“I didn’t upset you did I?” She asked as she took her place at my side and started to work again.

“Not at all. You’ve been really…“ I hesitated. She looked up, waiting for me to continue. I gave her as genuine a smile as I could, “Really awesome.” ‘Better than I deserve’, I thought to myself.

“Awww.” She set the file down and leaned over to hug me.

“I think I understand you better now though. If I had to guess, I’d say where you’re from you’ve got a reputation for not being very girly, but secretly you like to get dressed up once in awhile. Am I close?”

I blushed, smiling a little. She had absolutely no idea just how close, or so I thought.

It almost seemed as though she wanted to say something more. She had that same thoughtful expression Kelly had when she was debating whether or not to remind me just how close our families were. Whatever she had on her mind, she apparently decided to keep it to herself, so I took a deep breath.

“What is it?”

She casually shook her head. “It’s nothing. Well, no, it’s not ‘nothing’, but… I like you Robin. You’re a fun person to hang out with and I don’t want to say something stupid without thinking it through first, y’know?” She squeezed my hand, giving me a reassuring smile.

“Anyway, you look really pretty. You shouldn’t be afraid to show the world.” As she talked, she picked up a vial of purple nail polish she’d retrieved from her shoe box earlier, and started working.

“I don’t mean to sound pushy or anything, mind you. I just thought it might take your mind off things, you know? When you look good, you feel good. I could like, give you makeup advice and stuff too, if you want to have your sister pick you up some things.”

This was all such a blur. On the one hand, this was some sort of wonderful dream come true. This girl had, over the course of an hour or so, completely accepted me as the girl I appeared to be.

On the other hand, there was the fact that I wasn’t, and so far as I knew, couldn’t be a girl. I was still just a boy in a dress, and no amount of makeup could change that. To make matters worse, I felt awful for not having the courage to tell her the truth from the start. I just kept falling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole.

“All done!” Allison announced in a sing-song tone. I held up my hands, wiggling my fingers a little bit to admire her handiwork. They were of course still wet, but I knew from doing my toenails from time to time to be careful.

Not only had she shaped the tips of my nails into a more natural curve than the hideous clip job I’d done on them a couple of weeks earlier, she’d applied a coat of glittery, dark purple high-gloss polish that looked absolutely fantastic against my light skin tone.

I’d never done my own nails other than the aforementioned fingernail clipping sessions, but I suddenly had an entirely new appreciation for my slender fingers. ‘Piano fingers’, as my mother used to jokingly refer to them, were just another of my many curses, but now they suddenly seemed a blessing.

* * *
Chapter 4 - Woodland Peril
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The afternoon seemed to drag on forever as only a lazy suburban summer afternoon can. I tried to loosen up and relax as Allison and I talked and shared our interests, but the longer I stayed, the more my nagging guilt gnawed at me.

To make things worse, Allison had made it abundantly clear she wouldn’t let me out of her sight until Margie came home How was I going to explain all this to her? She left me her brother, and would return to find a sister instead. I couldn’t blame Allison though. She had been so wonderful and accommodating in trying to cheer me up.

After finishing our little impromptu beauty session Allison and I relaxed in the basement den/game room. Rather than stopping at my fingernails, she had gone ahead and repainted my toenails in the same shade. We also briefly discussed makeup and style tips, but nothing particularly worth mention.

We had been watching a scary movie about ghosts communicating through the static of TV and radios. Allison had me facing away from her while she braided my hair with some purple ribbon she dug out of her closet before we came back downstairs.

Just as she finished, someone knocked at the open door at the top of the stairs. We both jumped, and Allison squealed a little. I couldn’t help laughing. It was worth the playful punch in the arm in retaliation.

“It’s just me.” The blood in my veins turned to ice at Margie’s voice.

Allison picked up on the sudden unease rather quickly, giving me a reassuring smile as I turned to face forward again, sinking into the sofa.

“You look beautiful," she whispered. She then picked up the universal remote, pausing the DVD and glancing over, “Hey Margie. Come on down.”

As she stood, I sank further into the sofa. She stared at me, sighed dramatically, and took my hand to pull me up. This was the first time today that I actually resisted her, but as I heard Margie’s footsteps on the stairs behind us, I reluctantly stood.

“Hey girls,” Margie commented in such a casual way that it actually made me feel worse. She came over and gave me a big hug.

“Carol told me you weren’t feeling well when you came over. Thank you for inviting Robin over, Allison.” Robin? I just gave her a meek smile in return as she continued.

“Have you eaten yet?”

I nodded. “Ally’s mom made us tacos.”

“Ooh. Now I want tacos. Thanks.” Allison giggled. I just sort of stood there.

“Anyway, I’m going to put a couple of baked potatoes in the oven, if you want one. You can stay for dinner if Carol says it’s okay. Just be home by dark.”

She turned to leave again. I glanced between her and Allison, and back again. I inhaled slowly, giving Allison a quick hug. “I need to talk to her about some things.” I said quietly.

Allison gave a slow nod, returning the hug. “It’s cool. Listen, I had a lot of fun today. Most of my friends are packing and preparing for summer camps, but I just didn’t feel like going this year. Anytime you want to come over and hang out or talk or whatever…”

I smiled a little, wondering if that offer would still stand when she found out the truth. I gave her another hug. “Thanks. I’m sorry I freaked out on you earlier.”

She laughed. “It’s okay, really! Everybody has bad days. Now go on, get out of here.” She nudged me playfully. I couldn’t help letting a little giggle escape as she poked an especially ticklish spot at my side. I could see her face brighten, even as mine turned a few shades redder.

I caught up to my sister just as she was carrying some plastic grocery bags inside.

“You look cute,” she offered. I winced. “No, really. That dress looks great.” She set her load down and put her arms around me. I melted into her sisterly embrace.

“Carol told me ‘Robin’ was feeling blue, and Allison had invited her over to hang out.” Her genuine, accepting smile brought me a little comfort. She let go again, picking up her bags and carrying them into the kitchen.

I followed close behind and watched her set the grocery bags down on the counter. She stepped around in front of me and pushed my hair back out of my face. I broke down and started crying into her shoulder as she hugged me.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Whatever is going on, we can talk about it when you’re ready. I wouldn’t judge you even if you hadn’t been through hell this week. I mean, I went to the University of California, remember? There’s not a thing you can say to me that I haven’t heard before.”

I just nodded, nuzzling more deeply into her shoulder. She carefully led me into the living room and sat me down on her sofa. After grabbing a box of tissues she sat down beside me, and I proceeded to relate, despite the occasional sob, how I had always enjoyed dressing like a girl and pretending, every chance I could get, that I was.

I talked about how letting my hair grow was just a small part of that, and eventually how the afternoon had begun, proceeded, and ended.

I admit I was proud of the job Allison had done on my nails. They had had the last couple of weeks to grow out, plus the jagged bits had been rounded off beautifully, and the new coat of polish really did look pretty against my light skin tone: something I had more than enough time to think about and admire, while I was rambling endlessly to Margie.

When I finished, she put her arms around me, giving me a reassuring smile.

“Robin, sweetie, there’s something I really need to tell you, but I don’t want to make all this any harder on you than it must already be."

Allison had said something similar to me earlier. I began to wonder if there was some huge conspiracy that I wasn't aware of, or if they just genuinely knew something I didn't, and didn't know how I might react.

"I just want you to know that I love you,” she said softly, in such a reassuring tone that I couldn’t help feeling a little more at ease.

“I’m going to go get dinner started then we can talk some more, okay?”

I numbly nodded. Margie came back to check on me a few minutes later, but I hadn’t moved. I didn’t want to talk anymore: not yet, anyway. I had wondered what she meant though. I wondered what she could have to say that was so important, if it could make things harder on me at the same time. After about ten minutes, I finally stood up and walked into the kitchen.

“Margie? I’m going to go for a walk and clear my head,” I said in as even and calm a tone as I could manage, leaning in the door frame, arms folded.

She looked up from her romance novel, offering a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know. It’s not like this is a dangerous area, but I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

“I’ll carry my cell phone?” I pleaded. “I just really need some air.”

She sighed. “Okay, but don’t stay gone very long. We still need to talk.” She added that last part with an almost motherly tone, but it was still soft and kind of reassuring.

I again found myself wondering what she meant, but just nodded. I wasn’t brave enough to ask, so I turned to head back upstairs and retrieve my phone.

It was an older hand-me-down model with a purple shell that Mom used before she got her fancy new iPhone, but I didn’t mind, since I only ever used it to call her or Margie. I didn’t bother to change while I was up there because truthfully, I wanted to pretend just a little bit longer.

I left out the front door, but seeing Allison getting into the passenger side of her mother’s SUV was just too much for me. She waved, of course, and I gave a meek wave back before turning and heading back inside. I slipped out the back via the kitchen, crossed the back yard, out the back gate, and started walking toward the forest.

I had planned on asking Margie if there were any hiking trails, but I figured I’d be alright if I stayed near the forest’s edge. I turned on my phone, and I started walking. It wasn’t long before I had completely lost myself in my thoughts.

I went into autopilot mode as I walked. I started thinking about the day’s events and how wonderful everything had been, but my thoughts quickly turned to what a terrible friend I was being in return by lying to Allison.

“Even if I could somehow keep being Robin…” I said to no one in particular, “How could I justify pretending to be something I’m not just to keep her friendship?” Tears stung my eyes as I walked further. My head had begun to pound, and I started feeling a little disoriented.

I had no idea how far or how long I walked. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, so it’s no surprise that I didn’t see that big tree root jutting out of the ground. I screamed as my foot hung, causing me to lurch forward my face slamming right into the side of the tree.

Blackness followed. The next thing I remembered, I was shivering, and in a lot of pain. Worst of all, there was an intense, incessant ringing in my ears. As I slowly came to, I realized that ringing sound was my cell phone. I reached an unsteady hand out to grab it.

“Margie? I’m scared,” I sobbed. A few droplets of rain pelted the top of my head.

“Where… rr… ick!” I didn’t even think about reception out here, especially on my archaic phone. I was only getting garbled responses, and imagined Margie must've been getting the same from me.

“Margie, I’m sorry. I went walking in the woods, and I fell. I… I must’ve blacked out.”

The response was garbled at best, and made me think of the movie Allison and I watched earlier. I shouted into the phone, “I’m in the woods! I lost track of the time and fell! Margie, if you can hear me, I’m in the forest! Please help me!”

Silence. I forgot to charge my phone, and it of course chose now, of all times, to die on me. It’s not like it was doing me much good anyway though. I rolled over onto my back, wincing as I shifted my wounded ankle. I couldn't tell if I’d broken it, but I didn't intend to try standing on it to find out. I flinched as I touched my hand to my face next and quickly jerked it back at the sharp pain it induced.

I closed my eyes, crying out. “SOMEONE PLEASE HELP! Please!”

I began to wonder if this was my punishment. I thought perhaps that God was angry with me for wanting to be a girl. I’d never been particularly religious, but seeing my mother in that hospital bed roused some small hope that someone might be watching over her.

“HELP!” I shouted. Those few drops of rain turned into a slow drizzle. I sighed, laying my head back against the tree as a chill wind nipped at my exposed legs. I was just preparing to resign myself to my fate, when a faint sound caught my attention.

“Rooobin…” A voice called from the distance, though I felt sure the forest was taunting me now, or I had well and truly gone mad.

I didn’t answer initially. I refused to play this game. A few seconds later I heard the voice again, closer. The pitch and timbre I didn’t recognize, but it was definitely real.

I had no idea how much time had passed between my phone dying and this point. For all I knew, I was hopelessly lost.

“I’m over here!” I sobbed, “Please help me!” A large, hand-held spotlight settled right on me.

“There she is!” I thought I heard Allison’s voice. The group was a good fifty yards away, but it didn’t take long for them to close the distance. I could see a figure of about Allison’s height, in faded jeans with a bright rain coat and hiking boots running just ahead of a man and woman in orange vests. The woman carried what looked like a duffle bag, and both were holding a backboard between them.

Allison practically slid across the forest floor as she fell to my side. She started to hug me, but stopped herself. “Oh, Robin,” she said softly, quickly moving aside as the other two reached me.

“Robin?” The woman spoke as she took out a pen-sized light and shone it in my eyes. I flinched.

“Yeah,” was all I could muster in response.

“My name’s Lisa. Just try and hold still, okay sweetie?” People loved calling me sweetie lately, for some reason. I wasn’t about to protest.

I sat there patiently as the other, I presumed to be either a paramedic or part of Search and Rescue — or both, checked my pulse and blood pressure, rattling off a bunch of numbers that didn’t mean a whole lot to me into a radio.

“Robin, can you tell us what happened?” The man asked. Lisa got my attention in a hurry when she started applying something to my face. God that stung!

“Ow!” I cried out in pain, shifting my head to the side.

“Hold still, Robin.” Lisa insisted. “You may have more internal injuries.”

“Sorry…” I offered quietly, “I caught my foot on that tree root and fell.” I didn’t know how much of an explanation they were looking for about how I got out here, so I left it at that when they didn’t ask for anything more.

Allison just stood off to the side and watched. I tried to read some emotion in her face, but the other two kept getting in my field of view.

“Are you hurting anywhere besides your face?” Lisa followed.

“Just my ankle; I-I tried to keep from moving it,” I responded, pointing meekly toward the offending ankle.

I soon found myself lying flat on my back on the backboard, with both my neck and ankle braced and restrained. Just before they lifted me off the ground, Allison removed the pastel blue rain coat she had been wearing, and gently draped it over me. I smiled a little at her and whispered a thank you, as I was carried out between the three of them.

They brought me as far as the forest’s edge, which I’m embarrassed to admit didn’t take that long to reach insofar as how far I had gone, where an ambulance awaited us.

As Margie and Carol both ran to my side, I found myself being placed, backboard-and-all, on a stretcher. I tried to tilt my head to look at Margie, but the neck brace would have none of that.

She took my hand and gave it a firm squeeze. I just knew she wanted to yell at me, but she smiled, relieved.

“You’re going to be okay Robin.” She turned to Lisa. I saw her take the other woman by the arm and lead her away for a moment, while yet another set of paramedics loaded me into the ambulance. As I lay there wondering just how many people they had looking for me, I heard Allison’s voice behind me.

“Can I ride with her? Please?” She pleaded in a sorrowful, concerned tone.

“I’m sorry, miss,” the paramedic began, but Margie spoke up.

“It’s okay. She can go in my place. Carol and I will follow in my car.”

I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see much of anything but the roof of the ambulance, but I could picture Margie getting a big hug for that. Allison climbed in by my side, with the sound of the back door closing right behind her.

Lisa climbed into the front passenger seat. “Let’s roll,” she ordered the driver.

Allison squeezed my hand, apparently to distract from the fact that I was about to have an IV jabbed in my other hand. It wasn’t so bad though, a bit like a bee sting. The idea of having steel sticking out of my hand still made me shudder.

“Don’t ever run off like this again,” Allison scolded me. Earlier that day, I didn’t think I could possibly feel any worse. Fate decided to prove me wrong.

“I’m sorry, Ally. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” I offered, but she didn’t respond, silently squeezing my hand instead.

Her face seemed a mix of fear and uncertainty. She must have hated me. I closed my eyes and tried to drown out the blaring siren.