Miles is hanging onto the branch with both hands, his little legs dangling in the air.
“Hang on!” Arthur says, slowly pulling the branch up. Once he’s not leaning precariously anymore, I grab the branch too, helping him haul Miles up. It’s slow and painstaking, inch by agonizing inch, but finally, Miles is close enough to touch.
Arthur reaches over and grabs Miles by one arin, hauling him the rest of the way over the wall. And together, the three of us fall to the ground, Arthur and I collapsing to our knees with Miles‘ crying form sandwiched between us. I cup Miles‘ head to my chest, rocking him, my sobs lost amongst the rain. Arthur’s face is pale, but his green eyes are bright, and his arms are warm and sturdy as they wrap around both of us.
I’m not sure how long we stay there like that, holding each other. All I know is that soon, flashlights illuminate the surrounding area as the police and Ezra arrive. Arthur holds Miles tightly as he rises, helping me to my feet as well.
But just as we’re about to leave, Miles points to a nearby park trash can. “Wait! We can’t leave the kitty!” he says.
Arthur and I frown, turning toward the trash can. If I strain, I can hear what does indeed sound like the tiny mews of a kitten echoing inside.
Without a word, Arthur strides over and reaches into the trash can, pulling out a small, soaking wet orange tabby kitten. He holds it up by the scruff of its neck for a moment, and all of us—the police and Ezra included—stare, dumbfounded.
Miles grins, holding his hands out. “Can I keep it?” he asks, looking at me inquisitively. “Please!”
My shoulders slump as I realize that tonight’s horrors started over a kitten. But of course I’m not going to say no now. I’d give Miles the sun and the moon and all the stars right now if he asked. So I nod, and Arthur hands the kitten to Miles.
A little while later, Arthur and I are standing over the guest bed. Miles is fast asleep, his kitten curled up against his chest, also sleeping peacefully. According to Miles, he saw the kitten through Augustine’s window and went after it, then fell in the flume. It still feels surreal, knowing that that’s the reason why all of this started.
Finishing his examination, the doctor hooks his stethoscope back around his neck and stands.
“He must have a lot of strength for a little human, to hang on like that in the pouring rain,” the doctor says with a small smile. “He should be okay, but I’m going to prescribe some antibiotics just in case of pneumonia. Keep him in bed for a couple of days and give him lots of warm broth.”
I nod, clutching the pearls that I’m still wearing around my throat as the doctor leaves. I’m warm now, wearing dry clothes with my hair in a towel, but I’m still shivering from the whole ordeal. Arthur dried off as well, and for the first time, that one stray lock of hair is curling across his forehead as he stares down at Miles.
Once we’re alone, I turn to Arthur. My throat works uselessly for a moment as I try to come up with something to say. Finally, I manage, “Thank you. For your help. If you hadn’t been there, I might have jumped in during my panic and both of us would have drowned.”
Arthur glances up at me, and there’s a tiredness in his eyes that softens me in ways I can’t begin to describe. “I’m a father,” he simply says, turning to leave. “It’s my job.”
I watch him go, touched more deeply by his actions and words than I’ve ever felt. And for the first time, I can’t help but begin to wonder what our future could look like if let Arthur be the father he was so clearly meant to be –if I remained in Ordan after all.
1/
