Free Pieces of Hope by Carolyn Carter Page A

alone
at the edge for a moment. From here, the sky looked close enough to touch. Its
postcard blue emptiness and wispy clouds enveloped me. The wind whipped my
hair, pressing itself upon me from every direction. I felt like a tiny bird
about to test its wings for the first time. And then I looked down.
    The
bluff descended into a lush valley rimmed by a thick forest of pines, firs, and
maples that seemed to be on fire. Shades of cinnamon and scarlet lit up the
valley as far as the eye could see. The sight of it stole my breath away.
                “Amazing, isn’t it? If you stand here long enough, it
will start to feel like the wind blows through you instead of against you.”
Ethan sounded awed. “Do you feel it?”
    Glancing
sideways as he joined me, I definitely felt it, but it had little to do
with the wind. That same invisible force I had sensed at the hospital was
pulsing at me again.
                I took advantage of the moment to gaze at Ethan through
my new eyes. His whole body seemed illuminated by the sun—skin like glistening
honey, shades of gold running through his dark hair, green eyes with honeyed
flecks that danced in the daylight. No one would deny that Ethan’s looks caused
heads to turn in the living realm. But here, he left me breathless, words
failing in their description of him. Human eyes weren’t accustomed to seeing
the beauty of a soul, Creesie had said. Well, this
was going to take some time to get used to—along with some concentrated
breathing in and out.  
                Without knowing it, Ethan summed up my thoughts
perfectly. ‘“God’s gifts put man’s best dreams to shame.’”
    “That’s
beautiful,” I choked. I knew he was referring to our view, but I threw him into
the mix as well. A girl’s best dreams couldn’t possibly compare.
    “Elizabeth
Barrett Browning,” he told me, looking out toward the valley. “I guess you could
say I’m part geek.”
    With the
wind whipping against my ears, I swore he’d said Greek and told him I loved their food. Confusion quickly turned to
embarrassment when I realized my mistake. “Me, too,” I said at last. “Obviously
. . .”
    Ethan
aimed a full-on smile at me, and I was thankful my knees were locked or I might
have toppled over the side of Heaven’s Peak. His smile was disarming.
Rewarding, even. Given that I’d seen so few of them, it made me feel like I’d
done something extraordinary.
                Brody was still pulling gear from the Jeep, and Ethan and
I joined him. Part of our climbing routine involved safety first, but that
didn’t imply that as a superhero inductee—aka, newly detached soul—I couldn’t
show off a little. Monkeys had nothing on me when it came to the subject of
climbing.   
                “What’s the dealio ?” Brody
asked Ethan as he pulled out several long ropes.
                “We’re going to rap down and then climb back up,” Ethan
said casually.
                “Dude, you’re crazy!” Brody raised his open palm, waiting
for the smack. “I love it! It’s better than Annihilation Spire!”
                “Crazy is right! That can’t be safe!” I said with
disapproval, my heart racing at the idea of sliding down such a treacherous
crag. But I wasn’t frightened because Brody and I had never rappelled; it was because
Ethan and Brody might break their silly necks. On an average day, rapping was
dangerous. Doing it in this place was downright stupid. Just the idea of
relying on a single rope, a nylon harness, and a puny braking device made me
sick for both of them.
                 I
realized my error when Brody burst out laughing. For all they knew, I might as
well have announced a fear of tiny leprechauns.
    “It’s
not as treacherous as it looks,” Ethan assured me with a half-grin.
    Though
he meant well, his concern only caused my blood to boil. I wasn’t afraid of anything; I was