Chapter Six, Page Three (Jenny)

“You can heal yourself?” I say, amazed, again. Of course, Sunny explained about healing, but I somehow assumed one couldn’t use it on oneself.

          “Normally,” she agrees. “Not now, but I can help it along a bit.” She smiles. “It doesn’t hurt any more.”

          I look at the cut. The swelling has gone down, and it looks more like a scar than a recent cut.

          “Did you do that?” I ask her.

          “No, you did. You and your salt.” I smile, but ignore the compliment. I very much doubt its truth. Mai is slightly heavier than she was yesterday, but I pick her up in my arms as I did before, and we leave the cave.

          Mai gasps. I look to see what is wrong and see that her eyes are open wide with wonder.

          “The mountains!” she whispers, awestruck. I follow her gaze and see a beautiful sight.

          The tall, snow-capped mountains are rimmed with orange light. When there is a gap between the two, this same tangerine sunshine bursts through in an unexpected flood of colour. The trees are lit as though from within, with the remnants of moonlight and the beginnings of daylight.

          A river falls between two peaks, culminating in a magnificent waterfall that pours through a gap in two rocks. As it hits the pool beneath it, the droplets spray up, and are caught by the dawn light. Tiny rainbows bathe the water.

          I gasp, too, and then look back at Mai. Her eyes are in another direction, now, and I look there two.

          Two huge mountains are side by side – mirror images of each other. The snow has built up between the two, and it is one pure, unbroken wall. Here and there, pine trees can be seen. A small cottage is visible about halfway up, followed by a small church and two other cottages on a ridge not far above it. Again, there is a river here, but this one goes from being iced over to flowing smoothly. It does not fall as steeply as the other does, but is just as beautiful.

          “Wow,” I say. Mai nods.

          “What an amazing creator.” For a moment, I thought that I had misheard her. Surely, she meant ‘creation’?

          “Why do you look like that, Jenny?” she says, puzzled.

          “Creator?” Her eyes widen even further, if that is possible.

          “You do not believe?” she says. “How?”

          Not why. Not, “You shall burn in hell.” Just ‘how’. As though she could not comprehend not believing in God.

          “No, I don’t.”

          “But the creator is infinite! We could not live without him!” Her voice is stronger now, given strength by her beliefs.

The End

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