Stories

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A frightened and visibly shaken woman stepped out the car. "Oh my God, oh my God, are you all right?" she cried as she picked me up. All I could mutter was, "Please don't tell my mother."

I watched as she reached under her car to pick up a crumpled and broken sled, which minutes before was shiny and new.

"Where do you live?" she asked. I pointed to the house. As I looked back Milton was nowhere in sight.

I've often thought about that day and tried to imagine what my parents and that woman were feeling. My parents, angry yet thankful I was safe. The poor woman, through no fault of her own, almost ran over a child. And me, the guilt I felt and how grateful I was for my brother's words.

The sled was discarded and to my knowledge never mentioned again.