Chapter 13
The next day after school, James was in the tree house again. He was alone this time because Sophie’s grandparents were in town and her parents wanted her to be home right after school. He was wondering what he would do over winter break. It was three weeks long and was going to begin soon. James ran his fingers over the uneven boards around the window of the tree house. School had become a mild escape for James. It was not that he did not want to be around his mother, but that it was sometimes unbearable for him to carry her grief along with his own. James was unsure that he could salvage even a single day of his vacation and bring happiness to his mother.
James suddenly jumped back and wrapped his hands into his arms, and looked up at the ceiling of the tree house. He looked down and grimaced as he pulled his right pointer finger out of his coat and looked at it. James had a splinter. It was a big one, like part of a broken baseball bat- he thought. Well, maybe not that big. He was able to pick most of it out with his other hand, but had to go home to have his mom to get the rest out.
Descending the rope ladder, James was careful not to use his pointer finger. While thinking about the story he would make up to cover up the fact that he was in the tree house, he forgot about his finger. Only a few steps down, he grabbed a plastic step with all the force of his hand, and yelped while unintentionally letting go.
James felt himself being pulled back, and he reached out with his other hand, the one that was not throbbing, and tried to grab back onto the rope. James smiled a little bit when he was able to grab it, because he did not honestly think he could. The rope was not expecting the sudden re-emergence of his weight, so it snapped and he was only paused momentarily midair before falling again.
James let out a sturdy yelp when his ankle caught the ground, and the rope fell a bit on him as well as a bit of snow that was loosened in the commotion.
He must have passed out because when he woke up he was indoors and his coat was on the floor. There was a bag full of ice on his ankle that was elevated by pillows while he was lying on the couch. A lot of white light was coming from the windows and everything in the room looked old. The walls were painted a khaki color and there were picture frames dotting the entire interior of the room. There was an afghan folded over the top of the couch, and doilies on the coffee table. There was an old piano with the cover concealing the keys and a still metronome.
Suddenly, James heard someone talking from the other room,
“If I knew some kid was sneaking up in the tree house for solitude, I would have replaced the ladder.” Out of the side room the old man who lived in the house calmly walked towards James. He had a round silhouette and a bit of a slouch, and was carrying some big box to the living room. James moved up a bit and winced when he moved his ankle.
“No, don’t move, it’s okay-”
“Sorry, sorry,”
“Don’t worry; it’s a tree house, what’s the point of having a tree house if there aren’t any kids to climb in it?”
“Is my ankle broken?” The old man smiled at James,
“No, just sprained, try moving it” James did and he winced, “are you nauseous at all?”
“What?”
“Sick- do you feel sick at all?” James scratched his head,
“No, not really-”
“Just sprained, we’re good- and you won’t even have a limp after I-” the old man pulled out a strange contraption that was essentially two blocks of wood and a rope, “just get it stretched the right way.”
The old man noticed James’ eyes widen, “don’t worry, my son used to pull his ankle all the time in soccer, that’s why I invented this-” he put one board on James’ bare foot, and the other he held onto. There was a dial on one of the boards and the old man began fiddling with it while humming to himself.
“What do you call it?” James asked.
“What?”
“The invention, what do you call it?”
The old man smiled and his ears perked up under his white hair,
“The thing about inventions is you don’t really have to name them, it’s silly, really, to catalogue them in that way- numbers and codes work much more efficiently.”
James nodded, the old man continued “You fall a lot, kiddo-”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I just saw you fall from your bike last week, the hammer took it awful hard- ”
James opened his mouth, and then jumped a bit when he realized the man just pulled on the rope and did something with his ankle.
“What just happened?” James asked.
“Move your ankle,” James did so and smiled,
“It doesn’t hurt anymore!”
“Another successful usage of S-nine-eight-two-four-b!” the old man exclaimed, “I’d better chart this!”
James started to move and get up, but the old man told him,
“Don’t move, not yet!” and James eased back onto the arm of the couch. The old man walked behind James and looked over him,
“Did you know that when we look at things, we really see them upside down? Like now, when I’m looking at you-” he smiled, “the brain is an amazing thing, our brains flips everything back around for us, and that’s what we perceive.” he put the contraption back in its box, “you can get up now!”
When James stood up, the man was back from putting the box away, and he extended his left hand,
“Hey there, my name is Mr. Heckerman you can call me,” he paused in thought and lowered his hand again, before brightening up when he remembered, “you can call me Mr. Heckerman!”
“That’s your left hand,”
“Yes, you’re good to notice. The greeting of right palms is done by humans instinctively around the world, do you know why?”
“Why?” James said as he leaned just a little further back.
“They extend their right hand to show that they don’t have any weapons, do you have any weapons,” he stood still for a while, “oh my, what’s your name?”
“James,” he stuck out his left hand, and as Mr. Heckerman grabbed it and shook it.
“Then it doesn’t matter which hand we extend. At this point, it’s really preference. A right hand can shake a right hand, a left hand can shake a left hand, a right and left hand can even shake a left hand!”
“How’s that?” James said while letting go,
“The right just needs to stick the elbow up a bit.”
“Oh,”
“Want to help?”
“Help with what?”
“Help to get a new ladder for the tree house!”
“Okay,” James smiled and followed Mr. Heckerman.