Head north, said my friend, who pointed toward the hill whose trees blossomed yellow and showered petals. I followed his directions. I came back, however, a short time later, back to him, sneezing, wheezing, coughing, eyes watering.

He offered me Kleenex. I blew my nose. When I handed him the wet tissue he ran toward the same hill he’d directed me to. The yellow petals showered him.

Was my friend going up the hill to punish himself? Or was it to show me that he was immune to what made me sneeze, wheeze, cough and cry?