James Grippando - Leapholes

Ryan nibbled his eighth apple down to the seeds. He pitched the core into the river. He was still thinking about Huck and his friend Jim, who was a slave. "Hey, Jarvis. Was Missouri a slave state or a free state back in 1857?"

"Slave, I think. Wasn't that the whole issue with the Missouri Compromise?"

Ryan strained his brain to recall the things he'd learned about the Civil War and the events leading up to it. Disagreements over slavery threatened to tear apart the Union. Missouri was admitted to the nation as a slave state, and Maine entered as a free state. Congress approved the so-called "Missouri Compromise" to maintain an equal number of slave and free states.

Ryan said, "What do you think the case we fell into was about?"

Jarvis swallowed the rest of his apple, seeds and all. "I don't know. Considering the time and the place, I'd guess the Missouri Compromise, maybe."

"Sounds boring."

"Yeah. Most of the law sounds boring. Until you look through a leaphole. You have to see the people and how it affects their lives. That's the interesting part."

"That's what Hezekiah used to say." Ryan glanced toward the flowing river. His belly was full from the apples, but just mentioning the old lawyer's name brought back an empty feeling inside. "You think we'll ever find Hezekiah?" said Ryan.

Jarvis didn't answer. He was on his back, snoring. Ryan was getting sleepy, too. He reclined on the grassy slope. With his hands clasped behind his head, he looked up at the clouds. As a kid, he and his friends used to find clouds that looked like cars or trains or even elephants. He hadn't played that game in a long time. In fact, he hadn't seen any of those friends since his father went to jail. Their parents wouldn't let them hang out with Ryan anymore.

Ryan rolled on his side and felt a lump under his ribs. It was an apple, which made him smile. But it was a sad smile. It reminded him of that old saying: "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

His eyelids were growing heavy. He was thinking about his dad. The day that marked the beginning of trouble for Ryan's family had been a day much like this one. It was sunny and warm, the kind of day when nothing should go wrong. As a patch of puffy white clouds moved across the bright blue sky, Ryan's thoughts drifted back to the past. Or was it the future? It was getting complicated. He was in 1857 now, so technically speaking, Ryan Coolidge hadn't even been born yet. But to Ryan, his memories would always be "the past," even if the power of leapholes had landed him on the banks of the Mississippi River in the nineteenth century. At that particular moment, one of those memories came flooding back to him. With his eyes closed, he could see himself on a beach not far from the Coolidge house. He could see himself in the twenty-first century again, but it was long before Ryan would meet Hezekiah. It was before he would watch his father plead guilty in court. It was even before his father would be arrested. It was the innocent beginning-the very beginning-of a story with a terrible ending.

A balmy breeze was blowing in from the bay. Ryan could almost taste the sea salt in the air. Crandon Park on Key Biscayne was always full of beach lovers on Sundays, and on gloriously sunny days like this one, the park was packed. The Coolidge family did a barbecue every weekend. Their favorite spot was about a hundred yards from the beach, a little picnic area beneath the shade of a huge banyan tree. Ryan's father would cook hamburgers and chicken breasts on the grill. His mother made the salads and snacks. Ryan always got to bring a friend along. This time (as usual) he brought his best friend, Leddy "Sweaty" Colletti. They headed straight for the beach.

Ryan and Leddy were lying flat on their backs. Above them was only blue sky. Ryan could feel the warm, wet sand beneath him. Anyone could leave a handprint in the sand, but Ryan liked to leave full-body prints. In a rhythm that seemed to have no end, the white foam of breaking waves rode up the shoreline. They reached as far as Ryan's knees before receding back into the ocean. It was the most relaxing feeling imaginable.

A seagull soared overhead. It was coming closer. Too close. Ryan sat up quickly. He would never forget what had happened to his friend Leddy the last time they were lying on the beach. Seagulls had some deadly aim.

Ryan looked left, then right. It was the most beautiful beach he had ever seen. The sand was like powder with a pinkish cast to it. Palm trees dotted the shoreline. Some were forty or fifty feet tall, with long, skinny trunks that reached for the sun. It reminded Ryan of a brontosaurus's neck.

Around him, sun worshipers had spread out their blankets. Beach chairs and colorful umbrellas dotted the landscape. Ryan's gaze drifted toward the cabana behind him. It was shelter for three generations of females-a grandmother, a mother, and a little girl about two years old. The girl seemed fascinated by her grandmother's jewelry. She tugged on the necklace and drooled on the bracelet. Ryan smiled wanly. The days when he could do absolutely anything he wanted and still be adorable had long since passed.

The mother and grandmother were deep in conversation. The two year old was obsessed with the jewelry. She was especially fascinated by the ring. It was one of those obnoxious, rich-old-grandma rings with an emerald stone as big as an acorn. It must have looked tasty to the toddler. She started licking it. Grandma didn't seem to care. She just kept talking, and the little girl kept licking. The ring was still on the old woman's finger, but grandma didn't notice as the girl started sucking on the big stone like a pacifier.

Suddenly, the child started choking. The grandmother screamed. The stone was missing from her ring. The child had worked it loose from the setting. That huge, green stone had come off the ring and was now lodged in the child's windpipe. The grandmother tried to reach into the child's throat, but it would not come out. She screamed for help.

Ryan leaped to his feet and ran to them. "She swallowed the stone! I saw it. I saw it happen!"

"We know!" the grandmother screamed. "Do something!"

Ryan shouted to his friend. "Leddy, call the lifeguard!" Then he looked at the grandmother and said, "My mom's a doctor. I'll get her!"

In a flash, Ryan raced across the beach. He found his mother back at the picnic area. She had a camera bag around her neck, and she was busy photographing red and yellow hibiscus flowers.

"Mom, come quick! A baby's choking!"

Dr. Coolidge didn't even have time to drop her camera bag. She ran with Ryan across the sand to the cabana. A crowd had gathered to watch. The onlookers had formed a semicircle around the mother and grandmother. The lifeguard was on his knees, and he was holding the little girl in his lap. His attempt to perform the Heimlich maneuver was finding no success. It was clear that he'd never practiced on a child so young. The child's face was turning blue. Her mother and grandmother looked horrified, fearing the worst.

"I'm a pediatrician!" Dr. Coolidge shouted as she broke through the crowd. "Let me try."

The lifeguard handed the child over to her. Something had to be done quickly. The girl was fading from lack of oxygen. Ryan's mother dropped her camera bag and gathered the child into her arms. She placed one hand on the girl's back and the other on her tiny abdomen. Quickly but gently, she pushed. But nothing happened.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

"Please, please!" the grandmother cried.

She tried a third time, and it was like uncorking a bottle of champagne. The emerald stone popped from the child's mouth and flew through the air. It landed in the sand, right next to the doctor's camera bag.

The child was crying, like a newborn drawing her first breath.