Margot
“If you stand by the rock, I’ll take a photo,” I call out to Amelia who, by now, is too far ahead of me. It makes my heart beat faster, and sweat pour down my back.
I watch my little girl turn, skid on the gravel path and hesitate. To emphasize my intention, I hold up my camera for her to see. Usually, she can’t resist the temptation of a photo.
Sure enough, she turns and skips back to me.
“Here?”
She’s out of breath, and her knees are dirty and a little blood-smeared.
“Looks good.”
I hold up my camera and look through the viewfinder.
“Smile.”
I take several shots.
“Wait, Amelia,” I call to her as she’s about to take off again.
Amelia turns toward me.
“Yes, Mommy?”
The way she looks at me makes my heart melt. It’s amazing how much my life’s changed since she’s turned up.
I walk up to her and lean down toward her to kiss the tip of her nose. At the same time, I ruffle her hair.
“You need to stay away from the edge, sweety.”
Her big brown eyes look up at me.
“Why, Mommy?”
I chuckle.
I barely remember a time when there wasn’t the ‘why’ question in my life.
Amelia, these days, seems to constantly ask why.
Nothing happens without the why question. If I tell her to wash her hands, she’ll ask why. If I tell her to eat her dinner, she’ll ask why. Sometimes it can get wearing.
With a sigh, I squat down beside her and take hold of her hand.
“Well,” I start and watch her jump from her left to her right foot, unable to stand still, joie de vivre flowing through her in abundance, so much so that she’s barely able to stand still.
All my little girl wants to do is live life to the fullest and make the most of every second of the day. It’s great to see, but it’s also hard work at times, like today.
“See how it’s steep down there?” I point to my left to the edge of the path. “If you run too close to the path and trip you might go tumbling down, and then what am I going to do?”
She scrunches up her nose and squints her eyes. It’s her thinking face.
“You would come after me and save me, Mommy.”
I throw my arms around her to hug her.
“Of course I would, but you might still get hurt and that wouldn’t be good.”
Her little arms are now around my neck.
“I’ll be fine, Mommy,” she whispers into my ear, and I love her confident sentiment.
“Why don’t we walk together for a bit?”
I straighten up and take her hand. She looks up at me and nods.
We walk side by side, hand in hand, for about four strides before she breaks free and runs off again.
“Look, Mommy,” she calls pointing at something I can’t see.
I sigh. Maybe I should have bought one of those child restraints.
“Mommy,” she’s come back already. “Can my photo be in your next exhibition?”
With a chuckle, I nod.
“Sure, why not.”
A satisfied grin spreads across her face, and she takes off again. My eyes follow her before I look around. I take a deep breath, and inhale the crisp cool mountain air.
It’s beautiful up here. Not a soul in sightmountains, trees, and valleys as far as the eye can see. My keen photographer’s eye can spot plenty of fantastic shots, but it’s hard to focus on taking photos with Amelia bouncing around like an out of control gazelle.
Trouble is, she’s not as nimble nor as coordinated as a gazelle, and has already taken a tumble earlier on the path. Luckily, she only sustained a minor graze on her knee.
For my work, it would be better if I didn’t have her along, but being a single mom means I’ve got little choice in the matter. Generally, wherever I go, Amelia comes, too.
I take a random shot when I hear her squeal. Instantly, I turn my attention back to my daughter.
“Amelia,” I call and see her chasing after something.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Phew. She wasn’t in trouble…yet.
The edge of the path was not far from where she was running.
“Amelia,” I call, but she pays no attention.
Her eyes and her entire concentration are on whatever she’s following.
“The edge, darling, remember the edge.”
Just then, I can see what’s taken her fancy. It’s a deep blue butterfly, and, as if sensing a mother’s fear, the creature changes its flight pattern and moves away from the danger of the path’s edge.
Quickly, I find the two in my viewfinder and take some shots before I follow.
Amelia is laughing and clapping her hands.
“Watch out,” I call…too late.
Her feet find a large rock on the path, and she trips.
Instantly, I’m by her side. She’s lying face first on the ground. It takes her a few seconds to lift her head, and when she sees blood on her hands, she starts to cry.
Gently, I pick her up and cradle her in my arms.
“Shhh,” I whisper into her ear, patting her head with one hand, and brushing the gravel off her knees with the other.
Less than a minute passes, and she pulls away from me. She wipes her tear stained cheeks, sobs one last time before her lips curl into a smile again.
It always amazes me how quickly kids turn from tears to laughter and vice versa.
“Did you see the butterfly, mommy?”
I nod.
“He was so pretty.”
“He sure was, and you know what?”
Her eyes look at me.
“I got a photo.”
She claps her hands and delight spreads over hr face.
“Can I see?”
“Sure.”
I scroll through the photos and show her. Amelia says nothing as she presses her button nose as close as she can onto the screen. And then she’s off again.
To my right, I spot a flower. It’s magnificent, and I’d never seen one like it. After I throw a quick glance in Amelia’s direction and seeing she’s safe, I go take a photo of this exotic find.
I zoom in on the deep purple petals and the pink centre. My finger adjusts the focus and then I take several shots. Before I change angle and position, I check on Amelia again.
She’s skipping up and down the path waiting for me.
“Come on, Mommy,” she calls.
“In a second, sweetie. I just want to take a few more photos of this beauty.”
“Stop,” I hear Amelia call, and I look up.
There’s the butterfly again, and my daughter is hot on its tail. Only this time the insect is moving to the edge of the path.
Rats.
And then things happened too fast for me to do anything about it.
“Amelia!” I hear myself scream, but I don’t think she heard me.
As my voice is carried toward her, her little body disappears over the edge.
I cover the distance faster than Bolt runs the hundred meters, and follow my little girl blindly.
“Mommy!” she’s screaming, and I see her little face disappear down the side of the mountain, surrounded along the side by rocks.
The ground is soft and loose from the snowmelt.
Earth, dirt, and pebbles move past me, grabbing my daughter and taking her with them.
Talons of fear rip into my heart, and I throw myself literally after Amelia.
“Give me your hand,” I scream, but I’m not sure if she can hear me.
As we keep tumbling down the mountain, I grit my teeth and reach for her. The tips of my fingers just touch her, but it’s not enough for me to grab and clutch her.
I need to get to her. I shut out everything and try again.
By now, Amelia’s screaming for her life. It’s high-pitched and painful to hear.
And then, I manage to get hold of her hand. With strength I didn’t know I had, I pull her to me.
Now she’s in my arms, I hug her to me tightly, and try to slow down our fall. But nothing seems to be working.
Frantically, I look around for a solution to stop our plummet to certain death.
A tree root sticking out of the ground seems to be my only hope. If I can grab it in time it might stop our fall. Stopping our fall is only the first step. By now, most of the mountain seems to be cascading toward us.
I grab the root and hold my breath.
I need to make this work. As my fingers wrap as tight as they can around the gnarled wood, I feel a rip in my shoulder, and my body is jolted to a sudden stop.
Briefly, I breathe a sigh of relief.
And then I look upwards to see how far we’ve fallen and feel a huge lump in the back of my throat.
Holy shit.
With the amount of rubble and other crap coming toward us, I don’t think we’re going to get out of this predicament alive. I turn my body to shield Amelia as best as I can, and send a silent prayer up to the heavens, having run out of other options.