Wendell caught on quickly, uncharacteristically adept to the steady rhythm of moving from tree to tree. Before long, he was quickly filling box after box, sliding them to the path to be picked up by the next crew.
“Looks like we have a cutter among us!” cried one of the younger boys.
“We’ll see about that!” replied another, picking up his pace.
“Now don’t go cutting yourself, Bram,” Kyliene chimed, “just because you want to be the fastest.”
“But I AM the fastest,” Bram chided back, picking up speed, as all the kids laughed.
It became a contest. The younger boys egged on Wendell the newcomer, racing from tree to tree on the other side of the path. The packers paused and started chanting Wendell’s name as Bram kept pace, then lurched ahead, only to be outmatched once more.
All the while Kyliene, sitting in the middle of the lane of trees, described the events to her Nana, as the old woman laughed.
--from Prelude to a Hero, Chapter 7: DISTRACTED
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