Page 89 of How You See Me
It takes a moment for that comment to sink in along with embarrassment. Both hands cover her face, and she shakes her head, hair spilling everywhere.
I squeeze her thigh and let her know it's okay, and her hands drop. “She would love you.”
“I hope to meet her someday.”
And I hope Ava kicks cancer’s ass so she can.
???
We pull into the adventure park, pay for half a day’s worth of activities, and head straight for the dig site. I’m not risking running out of time. Another thing to cross off Ava’s list. Another memory to send home.
While Josie’s distracted with tying up her hair, I snap a selfie with my little dig tools and send it off to Mom.
Me:How is she?
Mom:Stable. I’ll call if anything changes. Don’t worry. Nice hat, by the way!
Mom:Ava says good luck. [fourleaf clover emoji]
Shaking my head, I shove the phone away and drop to the red dirt. Josie’s right beside me, bare knees, scuffed boots, and a sparkle that shoots caffeine into my bloodstream.
She’s not the type to care about dirt under her nails or sweat on her skin. She’s real. Raw. Radiant.
We dig under the hot sun surrounded by families. One little boy, maybe five or six, decides his favorite spot is in Josie’s shadow. Every time she shifts, he follows, ignoring his mother’s calls to leave her alone. When she catches him staring at her with those big, puppy-dog eyes, she flashes him a smile that almost shatters me.
She looks up to share her excitement with me, her bottom lip poked out in awe of her new friend.
I crawl over to join them. “Mind if I help?”
The boy beams, and just like that, the three of us are a team.
His mother soon stops by to check on him, and she and Josie strike up a conversation. They flow from one topic to the next, laughing and carrying on like they’ve been friends for years. I’m half listening, half searching for the elusive fossil that I’m not leaving here without when my pick clinks against something solid. Carefully, I brush away the dirt until the rigid surface of a fossil emerges.
I grab the brush, moving over the shape to reveal more symmetrical lines. I use the pick to chisel out the harder dirt around it, bringing the entire shape into view.
A park employee in an all-khaki uniform and floppy sun hat leans over me. “Great job. You found a brachiopod.”
“What’s that?” the boy asks.
“A sea creature from the Paleozoic era.” He points at the sunburst ridges with his pinky. “See how the lines fan out like sunrays?”
The boy nods, soaking it all in.
“Looks like you have a couple more to dig out.” The park employee motions to the evidence in the hard sand. “Maybe the mirrored side of this fella. Congratulations.”
When it’s just us again, I wave the boy over. “Wanna help me dig out another one?”
He nods fast, and we work side-by-side. I show him how I removed the dirt without damaging the fossil. He listens to every word and in no time, he’s holding a small gray shell-like fossil similar to mine.
“Twins.” He sets his fossil on the tray with the other.
Over the next twenty minutes, we find three more.
“One for everybody.” He snatches up the tray, displaying our treasure, and delivers it to his mom and Josie. They both swoon over his thoughtfulness.
“Which one do you want?” I ask him when he runs back to me, giving him first choice as reward for his selflessness. He takes the biggest of the remaining three. “I’m going to give one to my little sister. She’s nine years old but too sick to come here. She asked me to find a fossil for her. Which one do you think she will like?”
He studies the last two fossils on the tray, picking each one up and examining both sides. “This one.” He thrusts his palm toward me, the larger fossil he chose for himself resting in the center.
