w w w . d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m
45
by BILL MUHLENFELD
Living
on
the
EDGE
M
AYBE IT ALL STARTED WITH A RICKETY
METAL STEPLADDER AND A RED TIN OF
COOKIES, MUCH TOO HIGH TO REACH FOR
A FOUR-YEAR OLD, BUT CLOSE ENOUGH IN A TOD-
DLER'S MIND TO GIVE IT A TRY. Danny managed to grab
two of the sugary rounds before he toppled back, smashing
both his head and the cookies onto the tile floor. Though he
had only a smidgen of memory of what followed, his mother
described it to him on his tenth birthday, serving up the
same cookies as she related her scream, the rush to the ER,
and two weeks in intensive care, not knowing if there was
serious, permanent brain damage.
There wasn't. Well, not exactly.
It wasn't long after that birthday that Danny went to
a swim party at a friend's house and, on a dare of course,
climbed up the high dive and walked onto the board where
he teetered for a moment before bursting into tears, hugging
the board tightly and crawling slowly, scraping himself back
to the platform, where he refused to step down until his
mother climbed the pool ladder to retrieve him. Later, in bed
that night, as he relived the terror, his hands and feet grew
clammy-moist, and his stomach churned and twisted on itself
until he stumbled to the bathroom and let loose with the
chicken, peas and mashed potatoes he had for dinner.
DANNY MANAGED
TO GRAB TWO OF THE
SUGARY ROUNDS BEFORE
HE TOPPLED BACK, SMASHING
BOTH HIS HEAD AND THE
COOKIES ONTO THE TILE FLOOR.
