“I don’t know when we’ll be done—could take all day—so let’s just bag it.”

“Well, you can’t bag it!” cried Chad, almost pleading.

Chad was deeply regretting saying what he had said—even though he hadn’t planned to say it—and hadn’t meant to say it. And he started to feel like he was losing his best friend because he had said it. And the heaviness that had made him crumple to the ground grew inside him again and made him feel like he could barely stand. “You’re the big winner!” he reminded Randy as he tried to remain upright, “So I can be ready whenever you want me to come pick ya up.”

“You know what—?”

“Just say when and I’ll be there!”

“You know what, Chad—?”

“’Cause you can’t bag it! We gotta—!”

“Chad! You know what?” Randy held his hand out in front of him—like he was stopping traffic—to let Chad know that the conversation was over and that he was getting a little ticked off. “I’ll see ya later!” And he knew he was lying. Because he wouldn’t be seeing Chad later—or ever again. If he could help it.

And he made his way back up the snowbank.

And Chad said, “Okay,” and he watched Randy go. And he felt for sure that he wasn’t going to see him later. Or ever again. And he didn’t want that. So he tried not to sound desperate when he called, “Hey, Randy!”

Randy ignored Chad and continued climbing the snowbank.

And then heard the oof sound that a body makes when the wind gets knocked out of it from a sudden fall.

Randy turned and directed the beam from his flashlight onto Chad.

And it revealed Chad facedown in the snow.

Again.

Because Chad had suddenly and completely fallen down—almost in slow motion—again.

Randy was now convinced that Chad had the same thing wrong with him that his cousin from Frenchville’s pony did.

“Hey!” called Randy. And he made his way down the snowbank to make sure Chad was okay. Because, even though Chad had said something that Randy didn’t quite want to understand, he didn’t want to leave Chad there if he had the same thing wrong with him that his cousin’s pony did. “You all right?”

Chad pushed himself up out of the snow. “I don’t know,” he answered.

“What the—here…” Randy grabbed Chad by the arms and hauled his former best friend up onto his feet again.

“Thanks,” said Chad, brushing snow off himself again and wondering what in the world had just happened.

“What was that? You okay?”

“Yeah. I just … fell.”

“Yeah,” scoffed Randy. “I kinda figured that out. Has this happened before?” he asked, shining his light in Chad’s eyes to see if he could diagnose a neurological impairment.

“No—just…” Chad thought. Deeply. And for a while. And tried to sort out what had just happened. And what he was going to say. And he felt that strange lightness fill him up again. And it made his heart swell this time. And he gasped a little and pressed his hand on the part of his chest where his heart lived.