A Spotlight for Harry Read Online Free PDF

him.
Thirty-six … thirty-seven …
    Dash became worried. “Come on, Harry. I’m going to let you down.”
    Harry looked up into Dash’s face. Harry couldn’t speak the words. He couldn’t talk. Instead, he brought all his determination into one thought. It passed between Harry’s eyes and those of his brother.
Don’t give up, Dash! Don’t quit on me! If I can hold on, so can you. Don’t let me down!
    Dash understood. “You’re crazy. I don’t like this one bit. But I won’t let you down until you tell me to,” he promised.
    Harry forced as much of a smile as he dared. Then he waved his arms to signal to Dash.
Pull me higher!
    “No! Harry, why? What are you trying to prove?” Dash protested.
    Harry waved his arms again.
Higher!
    Dash began hauling on the rope. Whether it made sense or not, Harry was calling on him to do his part. They were more than brothers. Harry and Dash were a team. Theyhad always counted on each other. This time would be no different.

    The rusty pulley squealed. Harry rose above the stalls. He was almost to the roof of the barn. His head was only a few feet below the rafters.
    Harry closed his eyes. He felt like a sponge that had been wrung dry. His spit stopped flowing. The bristly rope tasted worse than ever. He felt as if his teeth were being yanked out of his jaws. But, despite all that, he had kept the count. He was almost there.
Ninety-three … ninety-four …
    A few seconds left! If he could only hold on a little longer. Harry dug his teeth into the rope. He threw back his head.
Yes … yes … yes!
he told himself.
Only a little more. I’m almost home. I can do this.
He kept repeating those words in his mind over and over again.
    I can … I can … I can …
    Harry tasted something wet and salty gushing in his mouth. It wasn’t spit. He couldn’t taste the rope anymore. He felt as if his jaws were being forced open with a crowbar. He bit down, trying to hold on to the rope. But it wasn’t there.
    There was only the gushing salty taste overflowing his mouth. He heard someone scream. Was it Dash? And then he was flying backward, like another barn swallow, down away from the shadowy rafters at the roof of the barn.
    Down … down … down.

I f Harry could have seen himself, he would have screamed, too. He lay on his back on the thick pile of hay and straw where he fell. Floods of that salty liquid filled his mouth.
    Harry thought it was bad-tasting spit from the rope. He tried to swallow it, but there was more and more. Harry raised his hand to his lips. He stared at his fingers. They were covered with blood—his own blood. It poured from his mouth.
    “Harry! You’re alive,” Dash was shouting as he climbed down the ladder. “I thought you were dead. Stay right there. Don’t move. I’ll run and get help.” Dash turned and ran out the barn door.
    “Don’t scare everybody. I’ll be okay,” Harry tried to call after him. He discovered that his mouth didn’t work right. It wasn’t just that he kept spitting blood. His words sounded strange. They hissed and whistled so badly that he could hardly understand himself.
    Suddenly, he realized what was wrong. Harry brought his tongue to his lips and felt for his two front teeth. There was only an empty space. His two front teeth were gone!
    “My teeth!” Harry groaned. The words came out “My feef!”
    He felt sick to his stomach, and not from swallowing dust and rope and blood. Hewasn’t okay. He would never be okay again. Now he realized why he had fallen from the rope. His strength hadn’t given out. His teeth had. His weight on the rope had torn them out of his mouth.
    Harry tried to stand up, but he became dizzy and had to sit back down. He tried again. This time he struggled to his hands and knees. His teeth lay somewhere in the heap of hay and straw scattered over the barn floor.
    Harry had to find them. The doctor might know how to stick them back in. Or Mama could sew them in, just as she