Below is an excerpt from a book being written by Barry Schatz called The Pig Adventures. The scene is written with a reverse perspective of the actual book. This version is interpreted by a character other than the main viewpoint character.
Falling out of the tree wasn’t what bothered Harley. It was landing on the ground that made the hair on his arms tingle. If he didn’t die, he would surely have an eye poked out by one of the thick weed stems that grew out of what was supposed to be the Huggins’ lawn. Harley picked at a dried scab on his ankle as he studied the sprawling tree branches above him. He was so intent on finding the best way to climb the tree, he wasn’t aware that one of the needle sized punctures had started to bleed again.
A gray cat was sprawled in the sun just beyond the shade of the tree. “What?” Harley said to the cat. “If I had claws like you, climbing would be easy.” He wiped his bloody fingers on his jeans and pushed his shoulder length red hair out of his eyes. “If I get my hair stuck in the leaves, you’re the rescue team Jerry. It’s not like Dad will be able to climb up to help me.” Harley knew the cat didn’t understand him, but he talked to him like he did.
Harley scratched the itchy scabs on his left ankle with the shoe on his right foot as he looked at the first row of branches. Most thirteen year olds wouldn’t think the branches were that far from the ground. To Harley however, he might as well hang from a flag pole on top of a skyscraper. He was five feet tall and anything five feet-one inch above the ground was considered altitude. He actually had nightmares about growing taller.
He reached for a branch that stuck out of the tree just above his head and in one swift move, kicked his feet up to an adjacent branch. He felt like a human hammock as he hung suspended awkwardly from the two branches before wrestling his left shoulder over the first branch. He wiggled his waist until his left hip rested on the second branch, then pushed himself up into a sitting position and grabbed the trunk of the thick tree.
“See Jerry?” Harley yelled. His cheek was pressed tight against the trunk of the tree. “No problem.” His arms shook as he slowly pushed away from the tree into a sitting position. He was surprised he could see so far down the road from the tree. He thought nothing of the person peddling a bike toward him as people road bikes through the harbor association all the time.
Looking back at the ground made Harley slightly dizzy. He grabbed the tree with a firmer grasp and scanned the ground for Jerry. He found the cat and watched him carefully choose his steps as he set off to explore the ditch that separated the Huggins’ front yard with Kauffman Road.
Harley lived in Presque Isle Township which was a village in Northeast Michigan. With Lake Huron to the East, Grand Lake to the West, and trees everywhere, Presque Isle was a vacation community. There were a lot of year round kids in the neighborhood, but Harley preferred the company of the kids that came up to their family cottages for the summer. They didn’t judge him in the same way as his schoolmates.
“Slow down!” The sudden scream came from the road and snapped Harley out of his thoughts. The distraction almost caused him to fall off the branch he was sitting on.
Glancing toward the voice, Harley saw a girl riding a bike toward him and she was coming fast. “Jerry!” Harley shouted. The girl wasn’t just joy riding, she was chasing his cat. Harley quickly searched for a safe hand hold to lower himself to the ground.
Before he could find a safe way to climb out of the tree, the cat crossed the ditch in a single graceful jump. Intent on chasing down the cat, the girl road her bike straight for the deep ditch. Her scream sounded joyous like a wicked witch chasing a child.
“This is gonna be bad,” Harley mumbled to himself as he watched the front tire of the bike slam into the side of the ditch opposite the road. The girl flew across the bike's handlebars landing, THUD, on the ground directly below him.
She didn’t move for several long seconds. Harley figured the best thing to do was to go find his dad and tell him a dead girl was laying on their lawn. He knew if he didn’t hurry, the Blue Creeper would snatch the girl up and bury her next to her dead husband in the basement of Creeper Castle.
“Ouch,” the girl mumbled. She wiggled one leg, then the other. After discovering both her hands worked, she reached up and touched her head. “I can’t see. I’m blind!”
“Try opening your eyes.” Harley spoke the words without thinking. The girl slowly opened her eyes and focused on Harley. "Are you a cat hater or something?”
“No,” said the girl. “I don’t hate any animals.”
“Yeah, right. I watched you try to run Jerry Garcia over with your bike.”
“It was my dog’s fault,” the girl said. “And who’s Jerry Garcia?”
“Jerry Garcia is our cat, my dad’s cat actually.” Harley looked around. “I don’t see a dog.”
“Why do you keep smiling?” asked the girl. “Are you laughing at me or something? Do you think it’s funny that your stupid cat made me crash?” She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position.
“I’m not smiling,” said Harley as he carefully lowered himself out of the tree. Once safely on the ground, he grabbed the girl’s elbow and pulled her to her feet. Her face turned scarlet all at once as she stared at him. Harley figured she was embarrassed because she crashed her bike. “So where’s your dog?”
She paused before speaking. “He ran away. I figured I could cover more ground on my bike but because it's new, I don't know how to ride it very well yet.”
“I can see that,” said Harley.
“Anyhow, I must have scared your cat. When he jumped, it freaked me out. We scared each other is what I mean.” The girl stepped back from Harley. “I’m Becky Bows. I just moved here.”
“I’m Harley.” He stepped into the ditch and retrieved a white bike covered with black polka dots. “My dad had an old Schwinn like this when he was a kid.” He gave the front tire a spin. “Polka dats eh?"
“Harley!” The voice came from inside a garage farther up the driveway.
“That’s my dad. "He's a mechanic and can check out your bike to make sure you didn’t trash it.”