Hello again! Long time no see! I’ve been hiking in the Himalayas like some Brad Pitt character from 7 years in Tibet. Anyway, I finally hit American soil and will tell you all about my hikes, but for now, I have to tell you this crazy story about Bob.
Oh man, where are my manners?! Bob is a friend of Franks, I say friend because I don’t know their relationship, all I know is that Frank has been gabbing about how I helped him find that house and now everyone wants my help with housing, maybe I should become a realtor!
Anyway, my acquaintance, Bob lives up in Boynton Beach, so I tell him “Hey I know just the guy. When I was hiking in the Himalayas, there was a gent that I met there who was an absolute saint. This guys name was none other than Ryan Conte, the owner of Ryan Realty.”
I tell him, hey dude if you want the best realtor in Boynton Beach, this guy is the guy you’re looking for. After some hemming and hawing from him, I take him back up to Boynton Beach in my Jeep, and we go up and meet the man, the legend, Ryan Conte.
They go through their motions, and the guy ended up with his dream home and was as happy as could be. But that’s life you know? One day you’re climbing a mountain with a stranger, the next day you’re calling that stranger up for a favor. That’s the way the world is. Thought sometimes it can be harsher too.
We were at the base of them mountain and the snow were beginning to stick to us like cotton on the barbs of a rose. It was me, Jacinto, and David climbing the mountain. A usually two-man journey, we took three just to be safe. We were tethered to each other as we made our ascent. The crimson cord was our lifeline to each other.
We moved in unison up the mountain; no step was reckless or miscalculated. But a chance moment happened. There must have been climbers higher up the mountain because as I, being in front, placed my hand again a few pebbles had trickled down my hand, my eyes launch skyward to find rocks falling toward us.
A shout and a scurry, and we shuffled ourselves to the right. But David was always the slowest one in the group, and he caught a rock the size of a softball to his left foot as we were scurrying over. The impact knocked him down probably ten feet, the sound of scraping claw alerted us to the inevitable pull, and we dropped.
The drop was shorted only due to our quick reaction speeds and foot work, but David was not meant for the travel. We worked on our descent from there, and the few hundred yards from the solid ground did not make us feel better. We made it but Davids foot did not. It was amputated shortly after.