I woke up to a a whisper from a familiar voice—"Phoenix!" they called. I looked up and my eyes slowly adjusted to what the brightness was around me and I saw and felt Bluejay shaking me awake.

"Crystal's about to fall over the edge!" she said. "I need you—I don't think it's smart to get her by myself."

"What?!" I exclaimed, jumping up to my feet. I scanned my surroundings and noticed Crystal was sleeping soundly in the darkness—no lights except the single light source of the full moon—and oblivious to Bluejay's panic. Cheng and my mom were, too. I knew Mom and Crystal were sound sleepers. My dad used to be a light sleeper, like me—but not anymore. He's in the heaviest sleep he'll ever get.

Crystal's legs from the knees down were hanging over a crevice. With all the pressure and winds, the crevice will become wider and wider and she will roll in her sleep and downhill until she wakes up to be plummeting to her death. The only thing we could do was go and get her ourselves.

"She probably won't wake up," I said. "She's somewhat of a heavy sleeper. There was a wild dog that had gotten in our old house pawing at her but she still didn't wake up." Bluejay looked at me funny, but then remembered our task at hand. "Anyway, we should still move quietly. She wakes up to some things, and if she wakes up she could sit up and slide down or get startled and twitch and fall into the chasm."

"We're gonna have to lift her—walk carefully," Bluejay said. "You probably gathered that already—but just to make sure we're on the same page."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "C'mon." We tiptoed stealthily down as to not wake anyone else up to cause panic. They might wake Crystal up and startle her—which would almost inevitably be fatal for Crystal.

Bluejay and I slowly made our way up to the snoring Crystal. "I'll get her out," I heard Bluejay say as she reached down to grab her by her waist, lift her slightly, and drag her so slowly that her knees straightened and her feet came up over the edge without Crystal noticing.

Once she set her waist down, I grabbed her legs and Bluejay grabbed her arms. We lifted on a whispered count of three and carried her back up to Mom and Cheng. She opened her eyes, groggy and confused. They widened and I shushed her as we lay her down. "It's fine, Crystal," I whispered. "You just rolled around in your sleep. You're fine, just get some more sleep."

"Okay," she said and smiled. "Goodnight Phoenix," she said and rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

I sighed with relief and looked to Bluejay and mouthed a thank you. When we were farther away from Crystal, I began to whisper my gratitude. "Thank you. She would've probably been dead by the morning and we wouldn't have had a clue where she had gone."

"No problem," Bluejay said. "She reminds me a lot of this girl I used to babysit, too. We had a bond like sisters before...this. She's probably dead this very moment." She dipped her head and I said my remorse to Bluejay for how the girl had likely met her end. She smiled sadly and her eyes glistened with tears.

Bluejay walked toward her spot and lay down. I followed suit.

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning, we woke up and ate a small amount of food and kept trudging upward. It was getting really hard to breathe as we got higher and higher in elevation, but we couldn't afford to try and climb down a little, then climb back up, then repeat to help our bodies get used to the low oxygen content—we had no time for anything like that. When all of the land collided and made a vertical mountain, if that was even possible, we would be dead. Even if that doesn't happen, almost anything else that could occur would kill us all.

"Bluejay," I said when we—once again—pulled ahead, "I'm sorry for asking, but what's that?" I pointed to something I had noticed earlier—something black and blue poking out above her shirt on her left side, but toward the middle. It seemed to be placed on her chest.

"Oh, this?" Bluejay asked. She pulled the top of her shirt down just enough for me to see a tattoo. At a closer look, I saw the black was an outline. An outline for a bird with its wings outstretched.

A bluejay. "It's beautiful," I said.

"It is," Bluejay said, a faint nostalgic smile spreading across her face. "I'm guessing you can tell, but it's a bluejay. To me it's more—it's a reminder. Of my parents. Of their final words and actions to me. Of my promise to them. Of where I have come from and where I seek to go. Of what I have and must do. It's—it's bittersweet every time I look at it."

"Your heart," I said. "It's over your heart." Bluejay' story had touched me, but this—this just made it even more intense.

"Yeah," she said quietly in a half whisper and half smile. I think she was getting choked up. I returned a weak smile and I saw a solitary tear fall down her face. This time the tear was the only one she cried. I put my arm around her shoulder and squeezed a little.

After a bit of silence walking up the mountain, we heard shouts. We looked at each other with wide eyes and turned and bolted back down the mountain to see Cheng far off to one side. Was he okay? I was scared—until I realized they weren't shouts of alarm nor fear. They were of pleasant surprise.

"What's going on?" Bluejay shouted, walking quickly and uncertainly.

"It's Cheng!" Crystal exclaimed with pure excitement. "He found a puppy!!"

"A puppy?!" I asked. I turned to Bluejay and asked, "How d'ya think it wound up here?"

"No idea—that's strange," she said. We walked at a fast pace toward where Cheng was walking toward everyone.

When we arrived, I saw a brown, white, and black puppy with dark eyes in a wicker basket. It couldn't have been more than three months old. Its ears flopped and its expression was confused yet curious and excited. I don't think it wanted to be in the basket. "Aw!" Crystal shrieked. "It's adorable!"

Cheng was smiling and stroking the puppy's head. "We can bring it with us, right? His owner doesn't appear to be around, and if they were, they would at least be in our sightline."

I smiled at the energetic puppy. It was pacing around to get comfortable in the basket and perhaps it wanted to be set down on the ground. I stroked behind its ears and it closed its eyes and moved its head, being lulled to a tired state. It yawned and its puppy tongue stretched and curled as its jaw loosened and slowly tightened again. It lay down in the basket and I saw a folded piece of paper under its stomach labeled 'PLEASE READ.'

I picked up the letter and read what it said to myself:

To whomever it may concern—
I'm sorry. If you've found this note, it means I'm dead. I'd have to be dead before I left my sweet puppy. He's precious. Please take care of him for me.
His name is Amistad. I wish you luck with whatever these unprecedented times are going to bring for the future.
By the way, he loves when you scratch his ear.

Everyone was watching my facial expression as it formed into one of sadness. This was a dead man's dog—I should have guessed that, but it's still not the greatest thought. I looked at Amistad's pleading eyes that seemed to ask what's wrong and it brightened my mood a little. Whoever this was didn't even write their name—they just wanted their dog to be okay.

"His name is Amistad," I said. "And you're right. His owner—well, he doesn't have one." I think everybody but Crystal understood what I was getting at. Amistad looked at me sadly and cocked his head. I scratched the spot behind his ear I had scratched only a moment ago and he settled into the basket comfortably to fall asleep. He licked my hand lazily a few times, then had even breaths as he began to fall asleep. Whoever his owner was was right—Amistad is precious.

We walked on while Cheng carried Amistad. It really was precious to watch how Cheng treated Amistad and how Amistad treated Cheng back. Their relationship already was adorable.

In the day, Cheng carried Amistad up the hill while he was either sleeping or had his paws against the front of the basket and was looking ahead and paring excitedly. In the night, Cheng cuddled up close to Amistad while holding onto him by his stomach. This went on like so for many days—I had lost count. I had already lost count of how many days we were out here, anyway—I'm not very good with that kind of thing.

However, it doesn't matter how many days Cheng and Amistad have been together—they might as well have been together for a lifetime already. They've bonded so quickly and Cheng and Amistad play together and eat together all the time—it's beautiful. It reminds me not all of the world right now is terrible. There's some sweetness in it after all, however small, and for helping me realize that I was grateful for Amistad and Cheng.