How to Save a Life Read Online Free Page B

frown.
    “Logan?”
    He shakes his head. “Come on, Jill. Let’s go back upstairs, and I’ll explain everything.”

3
    “ T HE TREE ’ S ALWAYS been magical, I think,” Logan says calmly after I’ve settled him back into his hospital bed.
    “Magical?” I repeat, sitting down beside him.
    “I mean, way before I knew about it officially, I just had the feeling that it was something special, you know?”
    “Okay.” I try to figure out where he’s going with this. He has a big imagination. “I agree that it’s a really pretty tree.”
    “Oh, it’s more than that.”
    I shrug. “Okay, I guess you’re right. When I pass by it, I always wind up thinking about life and reaching for the light and all that.”
    “Exactly!” He beams. “See, you felt it too!”
    “Felt what?”
    “The magic of the tree, silly! I mean, it’s really, seriously magic. It keeps letting you live extra days, even when your time is up. Just like you said. Life and light and all that.”
    I blink a few times. His answer is hitting too close to home. “Logan, what are you talking about, buddy?”
    “You think I’m ten, don’t you?”
    His abrupt change in topic throws me for a second. “Of course you are. It says so right on your chart. We celebrated your tenth birthday just a few months ago.”
    “Okay, so on paper, I’m ten. But the truth is, I’ve lived a lot longer than that.”
    “Now you’ve lost me.”
    “Right. It can be confusing.” He doesn’t elaborate.
    “Are you telling me you’re actually older than ten?”
    “Not exactly. Just that I’ve lived way more days than the usual ten-year-old.”
    When I don’t say anything, he continues. “It’s the tree, Jill. You touch the tree, and it gives you more time.”
    I relax a little. “Logan, honey, that’s not possible.”
    “I would have thought that too! You wait and see. You’ll believe me tomorrow. Except it won’t really be tomorrow. It’ll be today all over again.”
    “What?”
    “See, you touched the tree and said, ‘One day more.’ As long as you do that once a day, the tree keeps giving you an extra day. The trick is, it’s the same day over and over again.”
    I stare at him for a minute. His eyes are wide and guileless, and I have the feeling he actually believes what he’s saying to me. “Logan, that kind of thing doesn’t actually happen in real life.” I realize I’m being overly harsh with a sick kid who probably just wants to believe that his story isn’t over, so I soften my words by adding, “But it’s fun to think about, right?”
    He shrugs. “I don’t know that I’d call it fun. It’s just . . . a thing. It just happens. I think maybe it’s God’s way of letting you live after all, even after you have an expiration date.”
    “Logan, you don’t have an expiration date. You’re doing chemo. You’re going to get better.”
    He smiles sadly. “No, I’m not, Jill. But that’s okay. I’ll get to live more in ten years than lots of people do in a long lifetime, thanks to the tree.”
    I’m suddenly too tired to argue, and he looks so excited about his idea that I don’t want to burst his bubble. “Well, Logan, that sounds wonderful. I’ll have to thank the tree on my way home today.”
    “I can tell you don’t believe me. But just wait until the morning. Then you’ll get it.”
    I smile at him. “Okay, Logan. Now what do you say you get some rest?”
    He nods and burrows down under his covers. “Remember, it’s all going to be okay.”
    “Sure.” I can feel tears in my eyes. “See you tomorrow, kiddo.”
    He yawns. “No, I’ll see you the next today.”

    M Y MIND IS still whirling with Logan’s strange words as I walk out into the waiting area and find Sheila standing at the nursing station, swiping through patient notes on a notepad. She looks up. “Girl, you look like death warmed over.”
    I manage a smile. If only she knew. “I was actually thinking that I might take the rest of the day