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The Marsh of the Little Blue Heron Page 2


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  John framed the photo of the little blue heron and put it on his desk. He sat down at the desk and started to work on his pre-calculus homework, as he listened to some classical music with the volume turned down. About ten minutes later, Mia knocked on the door.

  “Can you take me to the mall?” asked Mia. “Mom’s busy.”

  “Sure, just a sec,” said John, getting up to pick up his wallet and to find his light jacket. He mussed the top of Mia’s head on the way to the closet. “I’ll have to use the Honda. Can you go and ask Mom if that’s all right?”

  “Sure,” said Mia, who turned and headed down the stairs to find out. She returned to John’s room with the key for John from their mother.

  “Come on, let’s go,” said John, as he finished putting on his jacket.

  Ten minutes later at the mall, John said good-bye to Mia. On the way home, as he was driving up the road near their house, a dog ran out onto the road in front of him. Suddenly swerving to avoid the dog, John lost control of the car and ran right into a tree in the front of the neighbor’s yard which stood at the edge of the road. The car airbag inflated but John was jostled in the car a bit when it struck the tree. John hadn’t been going fast, but the impact of his car against the neighbor’s tree and the curb had made a dent in the front of the car, and John had been thrust up against the steering wheel. John sat in a state of shock as two people from within the house came out and started asking questions. The pair were a man and woman in their mid-thirties.

  “Are you ok?” Asked the woman who had come from inside the house. She and her husband walked over to stand beside the car. John was in a state of shock. He knew he shouldn’t have swerved the car, but it had all happened too fast.

  “I… I think so. I suddenly swerved to avoid a dog that ran across the road.”

  “Oh my God,” said the man, looking over across the street where their dog had stopped. “Joey got loose. He’s over there, across the road. Are you sure you’re all right, son?”

  “I don’t know.” John said now. “My knees hurt.”

  “Well, you didn’t hit the tree very hard, so you’re lucky. My wife is calling the police to come and make a report. May I call your family?”

  “Sure,” said John, still in a state of shock.

  “What’s the number?”

  John gave the man his father’s cell phone number, and also his father’s name. Then the man called John’s father.

  “Mr. McLean, there has been a little accident. Your son John swerved his car to avoid our dog and might be injured…”