"What's the matter?" I asked.
Her face was screwed up, tears stood in her eyes.
"My foot's stuck," she said.
Her left foot was buried. I scrabbled the soft sand clear with my hands. Her shoe was jammed in a narrow space between two up-pointed stones. I tried to move, but it would not budge.
"Can't you sort of twist it out?" I suggested.
She tried, lips valiantly compressed.
"It won't come."
"I'll help pull," I offered.
"No, no! It hurts," she protested.
I did not know what to do next. Very clearly her predicament was painful. I considered the problem.
"Should I call 911?" I asked.
Nervously, she agreed.
"Wait here and don't move," I said.
I ran as fast as I could searching for a phone booth. After five minutes running around, there it was- a phone booth!Quickly I ran to the phone booth and dialled 911.
"Thud!"my heart pounded when it did not accept my coins. I kept trying.
"This is the last try," I cried. Finally, it accepted my coins.
"This is the Fire Department. How may I help you?" a man asked.
I quickly gave him all the information and ran back to where the girl was.The girl was still sobbing. I stared at the stones, and I noticed that the gap was now bigger.
"That's it!" I screamed.
The girl had been sobbing so hard that her tears had loosened the stones a bit. Coming to my senses, I took out some olive oil and poured it on the girl's feet. With a pull of her leg, she was finally free. Thanks to the oil.
The firemen arrived with an ambulance.
"We're glad you're alright," one of them said.
Luckily the girl had only sprained her ankle; so, there was no need for her to go to the hospital. Before the girl could thank me, I had fled the scene, grinning happily, feeling like a superhero.
