The Hand in the Mirror

The boys held an advantage over the older men chasing them because they had run this trail before. They managed to put some distance between themselves and their pursuers...but not enough. When they finally pulled up, Jerry’s breath wheezed in great gulps and Kelvin was near exhaustion from both his effort and illness. They could faintly hear the men in the distance, forcing their way through the brush.

“Kelvin,” Jerry said, “who are those guys?”

“I don’t know,” Kelvin replied, his voice a whisper. “We have to find a way to block this trail!”

“Yeah,” Jerry agreed, “but how? All we have around us are trees and boulders too big to move.”

Kelvin looked around slowly. When he spotted the dead tree just ahead, near a place where the surrounding boulders had tumbled into a disorganized pile that partially blocked their path, he smiled.

“There’s your roadblock,” he told Jerry. “That dead tree. All you have to do is knock it over after we’re past and the men will have to detour.”

“Knock it over!” Jerry exclaimed. “Are you crazy?!”

“Remember,” Kelvin told him patiently as he struggled to get up. He was none too steady on his feet and leaned on the nearby rocks as he slowly made his way past the tree. Kelvin’s chest was still heaving as he tried to breathe strength back into his body. “Remember what I showed you. Telepathy isn’t the only thing I gave you.”

 For a moment, Jerry gazed into the distance as he searched for the knowledge Kelvin said he had. When his eyes cleared, he nodded as he followed Kelvin to the far side of the dead tree.

“Yes,” he murmured, running his hands over the rough bark of the dead pine tree, probing with more than just fingers. He could feel the rough bark under his hands; with his mind, he could feel the core of the tree, dead from pine borers. The tree had rotted in places, but the core was still solid...and the taproot went nearly as deep into the ground as the tree soared into the sky. He felt for the balance point, lifting his hands from the trunk, and closed his eyes in concentration.

Jerry felt the pain of adjusting to a new mental ability, but it was less severe this time. The unusual paths opened and the pain faded, leaving behind deeper understanding and a new skill. Each time a new ability was unleashed, a greater perception of the universe around him broadened and deepened Jerry’s store of knowledge. With greater clarity, he understood the preciousness of all living things. Each species’ special niche in the world became clear. Though this tree was no longer alive he could sense its place in the world and he felt the void left by its death. There was intensity in this new interaction, this relationship, which fascinated him. As much as he would like to study it, though, he had a job to do. Jerry put aside his thoughts for later and applied what Kelvin had taught him.

Unseen, Kelvin smiled as he sensed Jerry’s unconscious mental touch for greater understanding of his task. The closeness that seemed to have sprung up between them thrilled Kelvin despite his illness. He’d thought Jerry was someone special from the start; now, he knew it for a fact.

Jerry concentrated, unaware of Kelvin’s thoughts or that he drew on his friend’s knowledge. Between the trunk of the tree and his hands, a shimmering glow of red and gold sparkled in the dim forest daylight. The glow extended vertically along the trunk as his thoughts expanded with it.

With a calmness Jerry didn’t know he had, he pushed. The gold and red glow flared to a brightness that would have made witnesses squint, almost like the strobe flash on a good camera. There was a loud creak, the sound of ripping wood, and the tree began to topple. The red and gold sparkle disappeared as Jerry opened his eyes and scrambled toward Kelvin to get away from the falling tree. It fell among the boulders with a crash, its top breaking off and falling back on the lower section of the trunk. The fallen tree completely blocked the passage.

Jerry took a sharp, deep breath. “Did I do that?”

“You sure did,” Kelvin answered. The weakness of his voice made Jerry whirl around in alarm.

“Kelvin! Are you okay?”

“Tired . . . tired of . . . fighting . . . .” Kelvin mumbled. Jerry rushed to his friend’s side, catching him under the arms just as Kelvin slid toward the ground. As gently as possible, Jerry pulled Kelvin up and put an arm around his ribs. Kelvin’s head rested on Jerry’s shoulder. He opened his eyes and tried to lift his head, but let it fall back.

The green color was gone. Kelvin’s face was dead-fish white and he was sweating heavily. Red splotches contrasted sharply against his pasty white face.

“I . . . I can’t hold out . . . much longer,” he said.

Jerry draped Kelvin’s left arm around his shoulder, grasped it with his left hand, and put his other arm around Kelvin’s waist, lifting as much of his friend’s weight as he could. Slowly, they walked on down the pathway.

“You’ll make it,” Jerry told him. “We’re not far from home.” He looked to his side. He could see the canyon. The sound of rushing water almost covered the other forest sounds. “If only we could cross the canyon,” he mused. “It would be such a short distance across the fields from here.”

Then Jerry remembered an old rope-and-plank bridge that spanned the canyon. It wasn’t far ahead. He helped Kelvin along, hoping they would both have enough strength to make it home. Around the next rocky outcrop, he should see the bridge.

When Jerry turned the corner, he could indeed see the bridge.

It wasn’t where it was supposed to be.