Если я останусь

           Maybesheeventriedtocall,leftamessageonMom’scellphone,apologizingthatthere’dbeenanemergencyandshewouldn’tbehomeforourvisit.

           Theelevatoropensrightontotheroof.Ahelicopter,itsbladesswooshingtheair,sitsinthemiddleofabigredcircle.

           I’veneverbeeninahelicopterbefore.Mybestfriend,Kim,has.ShewentonanaerialflightoverMountSt.Helensoncewithheruncle,abig-shotphotographerforNationalGeographic.

           "Therehewas,talkingaboutthepost-volcanicfloraandIpukedrightonhim,"Kimtoldmeinhomeroomthenextday.Shestilllookedalittlegreenfromtheexperience.

           Kimisonyearbookandhashopesofbecomingaphotographer.Herunclehadtakenheronthistripasafavor,tonurtureherbuddingtalent."Ievengotsomeonhiscameras,"Kimlamented."I’llneverbeaphotographernow."

           "Thereareallkindsofdifferentphotographers,"Itoldher."Youdon’tnecessarilyneedtogoflyingaroundinhelicopters."

           Kimlaughed."That’sgood.BecauseI’mnevergoingonahelicopteragain—anddon’tyou,either!"

           IwanttotellKimthatsometimesyoudon’thaveachoiceinthematter.

           Thehatchinthehelicopterisopened,andmystretcherwithallitstubesandlinesisloadedin.Iclimbinbehindit.Amedicboundsinnexttome,stillpumpingthelittleplasticbulbthatisapparentlybreathingforme.Onceweliftoff,IunderstandwhyKimgotsoqueasy.Ahelicopterisnotlikeanairplane,asmoothfastbullet.