So, what is it, I asked?

I think it's an old tree house, at least replied.

Their face was speckled with dirt.

We crossed the wide creek and hour before.

They'd been mostly mud.

We could probably climb, I mean, just pointing my dirty finger at the ragged wooden slats

nailed to the side of the tree.

At least I studied the slats.

They were rotten.

Streaks of rust ran down below the old nails.

Yeah, maybe.

I'm gonna do it, I announced, and started towards the makeshift ladder.

Just catch me if I fall.

You know you're too heavy, my friend's side.

You'll break my neck.

I pretended not to hear.

I placed a tentative foot on the first wooden slide.

Then shifted my weight back and forth.

The piece wobbled, but it didn't break.

I put more weight onto it, then grasp the rung above my head and pulled.

Still steady, that was fine.

I think it'll be okay, I called behind me, and began my ascent.

...