₳ł₥ ₳₦Đ ⱤɆⱠɆ₳₴Ɇ My heart beat rapidly as I counted down the seconds. Three . . . two . . . one . . . Trumpets sounded. The crowd immediately cheered. My friend, Ebba, tied her scarf tighter around her mouth, trying to conceal her face as much as possible, in case someone saw us. “Astrid, that’s the signal. Get ready to shoot.” My hands were cold and extremely clammy, not to mention they were shaking so much I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull the string back on my bow. Ebba stared at me with disbelief. “You are NOT chickening out after all of this, are you? This is the only way we can get them to listen. If you have a better way, by all means, I’m all ears.” I shook my head, afraid if I spoke I’d start crying or maybe even throw up. I never, ever got scared. But this . . . this was a big deal. I could be sent to prison for the rest of my life if I got caught. “No one is as handy with a bow as you are. Look, if you want to back out, that’s fine. But three months of planning and a whole night spent waiting in here will all be for nothing,” Ebba pointed out. Last night, we snuck into our village’s courthouse. There was a perfect view of the parade from the fourth floor. For three months, we had been planning this moment. The moment where I would narrowly miss shooting the king and queen with my bow and arrow. Where I would get the people to listen. Ebba and I were born in the lowest class you can possibly be born in. Beggars. We used to have parents, but that was a long time ago. Now, we’re by ourselves. And it’s hard. The thing is, the queen and king don’t care about poor orphans. Neither do the richer classes, in this village and all the villages for hundreds of miles. So, if I shot an arrow at the king and queen (but purposely missed them), with a note that said, “From the lowest classes in every village: thanks for nothing,” people would start to listen to us. At least, that’s what we hoped. “Astrid, the king and queen are about to pass! Get into your position!” Ebba hissed. I shakily positioned my arrow and pulled my bowstring back. This was it. I was really going to do it. I focused on a spot next to the king and queen. Then, I released the arrow. There was a whizzing sound, and the crowd screamed when they realized what had just happened. The queen’s skirt of her elaborate dress had just been pinned down by an arrow. I watched as one of the guard’s pulled it out. He ripped the note off, and his expression went from afraid to completely enraged. “It’s those . . . those . . . lowlifes! Beggars! Orphans!” he howled, crumpling the note in his hand. For just a split second, his eyes wandered up to the courthouse and focused on something that was leaning out the window on the fourth floor. Me. And of course, I had forgotten to lower my arrow. “Get. Them. NOW!!” He commanded the rest of the guards. Even with the scarf tied around her mouth, I could tell Ebba was terrified. I was too. We hadn’t really thought of an escape plan yet . . . so we did the best we could do at the moment. “RUN!!” We both screamed in unison. We bolted to the nearest door, and tried to open it. “It’s locked!” Ebba screamed, trying the other one. All of them were locked. The guards were literally going to be here any second. “We only have one choice,” I realized. “The window.” Ebba’s mouth fell open. “But – we – no rope – how –” she sputtered. “There had got to be something. Do you want to go to a weird children’s prison?” I asked her in a determined voice. I think Ebba was considering saying yes, but she just shook her head.
We searched frantically for some kind of rope we could use, but there was nothing. All we found was some old silverware, a few worn out chairs, and a giant pole made from wood. “Wait,” I said, eyeing the pole. “Wait? Wait for the guards to come catch us? We’re toast, I hope you know that.” “What? No, I mean look at this pole,” I said slowly, forming a plan in my mind. “I’m sure it will work. In fact, I know it will,” I added a little confidence to make Ebba feel assured. Ebba looked at me questioningly. “We get the pole. We put it out the window, and then we use it to jump across to that tree over there. It’s a little long, but we can jump off as soon as we reach the tree.” Ebba didn’t look convinced. “Look, it’s either that or say goodbye to life as you know it.” Her face went a nasty shade of green, but she finally muttered something that sounded like “fine, I’ll do it.” In reality, I knew it was a long shot. The pole might snap, or it might fall the wrong way. There were many, MANY ways this could go wrong. But did we really have a choice? I sat on the ledge of the window, trying not to look down. We slid the pole down the window, stopping when it had touched the ground. Then, we both got on either side of the pole, getting ready to push off. The guards were breaking down the door now. I could hear them. “Three . . . two . . .” They managed to get through and were racing over to us. “NOW!!” I yelled, pushing off just as I felt the guard’s hand brush against my back. Ebba and I screamed as we fell forward, clutching onto the pole as best as we could. It almost missed the tree, but we managed to jump off just in time. “Ouch!” I cringed, as I tumbled through the tree. Thankfully, I grabbed hold of one of the branches to keep me from falling. Ebba, on the other hand, was not so lucky. She moaned as she sat up, massaging her neck. “Am I dead? What’s going on?!” “You’re not dead,” I said happily. I jumped out of the tree and ran over to her. “We did it! We actually did it!” I exclaimed. “Well, who knows if the king and queen will actually listen?” Ebba remarked. I laughed. “Always the pessimist, Ebba.” Epilogue Ebba smiled as the queen referred to her as the “sharp brains and mind of the project,” and me as, “the leader and supporter.” I was happy, I felt numb. The king and queen actually listened. They had come to know the orphans and beggars, and now we were announcing the grand opening of an orphanage and a home for poor families. “Ebba? Astrid? You can cut the ribbon now.” The king told us. We both took hold of the large scissors, and at the same time, we cut the ribbon. The orphanage and home was finally opened. Cheers went up in the air. Ebba threw her arms around me, and I happily embraced her back. “We’re not going to be alone anymore!” She cried. I grinned. “We were never alone. We had each other. And we always will.” Ebba squealed and hugged me again. The worst was finally, FINALLY over.
