Jabarri placed his hands on his shaking knees. His hood hung loosely around his shoulders and streams of water dripped from his dark hair. He squinted through the sleet as the last strut holding the center of the bridge slid downwards with a creak.
If he had been a second too late… His heart felt like a speeding train, hammering so fast it rattled his chest.
A faint boom was heard as the strut shattered on the rocks below and the torrents of water washed the shards away. The remainder of the bridge tried to cling to the sides of the cliffs, but cracks etched themselves in the rock. Jabarri backed away a few feet.
The bridge sagged and cracked in two. Large chunks of the cliffs came loose and crashed into the water, sending tidal waves in every direction. Jabarri’s knees felt as though they would not hold him anymore. He sank to the rocky ground and stared down into the watery depths.
When the muddy foam had settled, Jabarri picked himself off the ground and turned away from the drop off. He walked back to the gravel road on wobbly legs. The sleet sloshed into the brown puddles and splattered on the road. Jabarri’s old flooded boots crunched steadily on the gravel and the water in them sogged his socks.
Jabarri stopped. He heard the faint sound of feet on gravel and an odd scraping sound through the rain. Another figure hobbled round the bend in the road. Jabarri watched as the man moved the cane in his hand from side to side.
His name was Anker. He could often be seen hobbling about the outskirts of the village, but no-one looked his way. The scraping from the cane on the gravel continued as the man neared Jabarri.
Jabarri’s mind instantly flashed back a few seconds before to the sound of the bridge breaking apart and crashing into the water. Would Anker know the bridge had fallen? Maybe blind men could tell when there was nothing before them to step on… After all that’s what a cane was for. But what if he didn’t?
No doubt Anker was heading for his home across the bridge. Jabarri took a deep breath to call out to the blind ma—
What would Anker think of his voice?
Jabarri’s tongue froze on the bottom of his mouth and he snapped his mouth shut. People often commented on his voice. It sounded…well, nasally and high-pitched. It sounded like an annoying little kid. A whining annoying little kid throwing a tantrum. In other words, ridiculous, and it was no wonder that people noticed it.
It was, in fact, so ridiculous, that Jabarri avoided the public as often as possible. Hence him being out on the bridge alone in the rain.
Anker scraped along with his cane. A turtle could have beat him in a race. Jabarri’s heart thumped. He would tell the man about the bridge when he was a few feet away. Anker plodded on. The scraping noise on the gravel was becoming a nuisance.
He was only ten feet away.
Now two yards.
Jabarri would begin to talk in a few seconds. He would say, ‘Sir! The bridge is out!’ A few more steps and then he would say it.
Anker crept a few more steps until they were only three feet apart. Now, now he must say the words! Anker stopped so suddenly Jabarri jumped back, but he managed to hold his tongue.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” Anker wheezed in his spindly voice.
Any minute now the words would come out. Jabarri was a frozen statue, with the sleet pouring onto his wet head and around his feet. Now! He should have warned the man long ago. His tongue would not move.
Anker took a few tiny steps toward Jaberri, his high-pitched gasps escaping the thin opening between his lips in a white cloud. A lock of Anker’s gray hair fell over his glazed eyes. Jabarri was motionless.
“Hello? Is someone here?”
Jabarri held his breath. Anker stretched his cane out and slid it across the ground. It went a little too far and hit Jabarri on the side of his old soggy boot. The old man stumbled and fell at Jabarri’s feet. His cane toppled and one end landed over his boot.
Jabarri did not move. What if the man had, instead of hitting Jabarri’s boot, hit a rock and went plummeting down the cliff? Jabarri opened his mouth to say, ‘Sir! Pray don’t go any farther!’ but only got as far as, “S–” before silencing his breath. He thought the sound he made was like the buzzing of an insect.
Anker felt around for his cane. His hand slid across the gravel, inches from Jaberri’s boot. He could not feel the cane because it rested on the boot and was a few inches above where he was feeling.
At last he lifted his arm slightly and the back of his hand brushed the handle of the cane. He felt around the torn leather and wooden sole of Jabarri’s boot until he wrapped his fingers around the handle.
“I could have sworn that it was a man’s boot I felt. I must be getting old indeed. Not even my fingers recognize what they touch.”
Anker placed his left hand on his knee and held his cane with his right. He rose slowly until he was standing straight, only inches from touching the only other living soul on the road. Jabarri did not move.
The blind man wrinkled his brow. “I could have sworn I heard someone else, but I suppose I am going deaf in this rain,” he muttered and turned away. His cane scraped the gravel. Scriiitch! Scraaatch! Back and forth. Away he went down the path. Jabarri turned his head. He opened his mouth to speak one last time.
And there it remained open until the man disappeared around the final bend before the bridge.
He could still run up to the man and warn him before he fell. Jabarri took a step in the direction of the bridge.
Was it the sleet filling his worn boots that prevented him from moving? Rainwater dripped down his nose and his breath came out before him in foggy puffs.
If a blind man could tell that there was a person even when the person made no sound, then surely he could tell that the bridge was out even if no-one told him so! Of course! Why hadn’t Jabarri thought of that before?
Jabarri nodded smartly to himself. Then he turned on his heel. He hurried away as fast as he could walk until he reached his hut. He swung the door open and slammed it behind him.
Anker teetered on, swinging his cane before him. His ears instantly caught the sound of the rushing water. Ah yes! He had made it to the bridge. Only half a mile left and he would be home. Suddenly, his cane hit a rock. He gasped and stretched his hands out to catch himself, but behold! The ground had disappeared!