Chapter 3 - Tim’s Return

As the hawk carried Tim to the treetops, I was mortified by his abduction.  Shocked, I stood looking up until I was distracted by a small gasp from the bushes to my right.  It sounded a lot like, “No!”  I turned and saw a small girl about 8 inches tall standing under the greenery.  She too was looking up at the sky with her mouth open in shock. 

Rushing over to the bush, I leaned down and whispered, “Come out! If you come out on the deck, maybe the hawk will come back, and we can save Tim!  Move around and attract its attention.  Hurry!”

I backed away in hopes she would see the logic of my plan and come into plain view.  The hawk was still circling above, but Tim’s screams were too faint to hear, but I knew that they were filling the airwaves above us.

Suddenly, the tiny girl ran back and forth along the pool deck, waving her frail arms in the air.  I grabbed the pole of the skimmer net slowly and waited to see if our plan would work. 

It did!

The predator bird swooped down, greedy for a second meal even before it finished with Tim.  In its excitement, though, as we had hoped, it released its grip ever so slightly on Tim while attempting to pick up the new prey.  Splashing into the pool, Tim screeched. Dodging sideways, the girl barely escaped the talons.  I swooshed the net of the skimmer toward the hawk, to distract it and save my new plaything from capture. 

As the hawk swooped in a different direction, I quickly scooped up Tim from the water with the net and simultaneously reached down to capture the girl in my other hand.  The hawk circled above, angrily screeching at me for stealing its dinner. 

Gently plucking Tim out of the net, I tried to be gentle.  The miniature girl was struggling against my hand and even tried to bite my finger to gain freedom.  Tightening my grip, I scolded, “Be still!  I need to take Tim inside to tend to his wounds, and you are not helping by struggling so much!”

A soft moan escaped from Tim, and that seemed to quiet her down a bit so I could open the back door and get them both inside.  I took them into the kitchen and placed them on the counter.  Wrapping Tim in one of the kitchen towels, I gently dried him off and tried to examine him for wounds, because he was bleeding from somewhere.  I turned him over and there it was—a small puncture wound in his left butt cheek. 

“Here, come put some pressure on this wound while I go get some disinfectant,” I commanded.  The girl stood frozen in place on the counter, with her eyes wide and mouth slightly open, perhaps in shock.  “Please, help me help him!  Just put your hands here to help stop the bleeding, or he may die.” 

Snapping out of her trance, she rushed to his side and did as I had requested.  I went to the medicine cabinet and got some disinfectant and a bandage. 

“This may hurt a bit, Tim, but I don’t want it to get infected.”  I soaked a cotton ball in the solution and lifted her hand from his butt’s wound.  Dabbing the puncture wound gently, I heard him moan again. 

“Ouch,” he screamed.

“Don’t hurt him!” she cried, trying to grab my fingers away from him.

“Shhhh, I am helping him.  There, there… it will stop stinging in a minute.”  I affixed a bandaid and covered him with a dry towel.  Lifting him gently, I cooed, “I am so glad you are back!  Please don’t give me such a scare again.” 

Then I turned to the girl, and said, “And you, young lady…tell me your story!”