Essentials of Fiction – Class Blog

Note from the author:  If you review this piece, you will notice weird spelling in some instances.  I did this on purpose, to make the feel of the dialog a little more in tune with the scene.

The Motel From Hell

     “No Nanna, we just landed,” I said holding my cell phone up to one ear, while my attempt to organize the luggage into the trunk was failing by degrees.  “No, I think we’re just going to head over to the motel first, and get settled in before we come over and see you.  Will that be ok?” I asked.  “Fine, we’ll see you in about an hour.  Love you.” With that I hung up, shoved the phone back into my pocket and returned my concentration to the task at hand.  “Jesus GOD!” exclaimed my wife.  “Tell me again, why we came to Florida in July?  DIdn’t we vow NEVER to come back here in the summer?” she asked as she gave me what I interpreted to be an exasperated look.  I couldn’t really tell, as she had just put on her massive Elton John shades, so all I saw was the two dark lenses staring at me blankly.  I sighed, wiping my forehead with my handkerchief.  “Yeah, well, no that we’re on the school schedule, this, or Christmas, or Spring break.  Take your pick of travel hell.” I said, finally getting the last of the luggage into the trunk of the car.  I slammed the trunk and took a moment to take in my surroundings.  It was Florida alright.  Scratch that, Florida in July.  What does that mean you ask?  It means that the air hits you in the lungs before you even step outside.  It means that no matter what time of the day it is, you’re drenched in sweat, and your clothes are sticking to your body.  As soon as you step outside, you’re senses are overwhelmed by the humidity which seems to attack all of them.  You taste the mixture of sand and asphalt, which leaves a salty tangy funk in the back of your throat.  Your eyes are immediately more sensitive to the instant increase in moisture, causing them to water more.  Your nose almost instantly picks up an acute tangy oder, from the iron rich red dirt all around. Your ears automatically pick up the sounds of the surroundings, there seems to be a constant hum of insect life permeating the area.  And finally, the sense of touch is affected by how incredibly hot everything is.  As I said, this is Florida.

     As soon as we could, we all jumped into the car, relishing the safety of air-conditioning.  “How long is it going to take us to get to Nana’s house dad?” asked my son.  “ ‘Bout thirty minutes buddy, why?”  “Thirty minutes?  is that all?” he whined in a complaining voice. “Umm, yeah.” “I was hoping we could stay in the car longer.  Can I just sit in the A/C once we get to the motel?  PLEASE!?”  I laughed, feeling his pain.  Looking over, I could see that my wife was of a similar mind. “Don’t sweat it too badly guys.  We’ll be at the motel soon, and we can take a breather there… In the A/C,” I said.  “Again! Please remind me why we’re doing this in July,” said my wife for the second time.  I smiled, but decided not to engage in that conversation again.

      We pulled up to the address listed on the GPS.  My wife stared the window, now covered in a thin layer of the red dust.  She pulled her sunglasses half way down her nose, before she gave me a sidelong glance.  “Ummm, care to explain?” she asked, pointing ahead with her chin.  “What?!” I asked somewhat defensively.  “This was what I could get based on our criteria:  Within ten miles of Nana’s house, close to highway access, close to restaurants etc.  Oh and under $100.00 per night… you’re words,” I said, flashing one of my best “used-car salesman” smiles.  She pushed her sunglasses back up and continued to stare.  What stood before us was something straight out of a bad horror flick, in particular, a horror flick about a hitch-hiking stalker/killer.  It was your standard, “down south” Roadway Inn.  Complete with shutters hanging limply on the window sill, in dire need or a paint job, and a lop eared hound dog sleeping out front of the entrance.  “All this place is missing is some little handicapped boy with a banjo,” said my wife in a deadpanned tone.  Deciding not to take her sarcasm seriously, I smiled and shook my head.  “Well, I’m sure I could find one ‘round here somewhere’s,” I said.  “And LOOK honey, an honest-to-GOD Waffle house.  We totally gotta go there at like two o’clock in the morning and order a mess o’ grits!”  She gave me another sidelong glance before she headed to the front door.  I stood, looking around.  The place had changed somewhat from my childhood.  What used to be a very rural location, now was busy with all that one would expect to find at a motel near the highway.  Only now, instead of just a run down gas station and a Waffle House next to it, there was all the modern amenities that the wayward traveler could want.  Next to the Waffle House, was a drive-through Starbucks, and a Firehouse sub sandwich shop, topped off with a “LUV’S” super-sized truck stop.  My wife stuck her head out the front door, a look of bewilderment on her face.  In a low hurried tone, she said, “Um, Honey?  I need you to come in here.  I don’t understand what these people are saying.”  I gave her a look of complete incredulity. “What are you talking about?” I asked.  “Well, I think they’re speaking English, but I really don’t know!  I need your help!  You’re the linguist after all.”  I rolled my eyes, as I walked to the entrance.

     I walked in, and immediately became aware of the fact that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.  The walls were all adorned with various forms of NASCAR paraphernalia, velvet pictures of Jesus, and placard’s of membership to the NRA.  Behind the counter was an elderly gentleman with black horn-rimmed glasses, and a hair do that looked like he had dipped his head in a vat of grease.  He seemed to be missing a few teeth, which was evident when he flashed his best smile.  “If you say one word about Deliverance, I’ll slap you,” I said in a quiet tone out the side or my mouth to my wife. “Afternoon, where y’all a comin’ from?” asked the man behind the counter.  “Uh, yes, umm, Earl is it?” I asked hesitantly noticing his name badge. “We’re in from Portland, Oregon.”  “Oregon!? that’s perty far away ain’t it.”  I flinched slightly at his pronunciation of Oregon, said like, “Or-eee-gun.”  “Yeah, pretty much the opposite side of the world, it seems,” I said sheepishly.  “You have a reservation for Williams?” I asked.  “Williams, Williams, umm, Wilson? Nope!  Wilkerson? Naw that ain’t it neither.  AH yes, here we are, Mr. and Mrs. Williams. I have y’all a stayin’ fer six nights?”  “That’s right,” I said, casually glancing around.  “Do you all have pool here?”  He glanced at me over the rim of his thick glasses. “Yessir Mr. Williams, one of the best around! It’s just out back.  Y’all got towels in yer bathroom.  It’s opened ’til 10:00 pm.  Wait one moment an’ I’ll get Fred to show you to your rooms,” he said, as he stepped past me to open a side door.  “Hey Fred, FRED! FRED DAMMIT WHERE TH’ HELL ARE YE?”  He looked back and forth scanning the side parking lot, shaking his head indignantly.  Muttering to himself, he said under his breath, “I swear to all that is holy, that boy is the LAZIEST sum’bitch!”  My wife gave me another quizzical look, to which I just shook my head and smiled again. Earl’s mutterings were interrupted by the sound of loud guttural hacking, coupled with heavy wheezing. “Ah there ye are Fred.  Dammit boy, where ye been?”  “Sorry Earl, I was out back fixing’ to clean the paper towel out of the toilet in unit fourteen. I swear, it looks like somebody shot a dawg in there.”  Earl nodded, as he gathered out paper work.  “There you go Mr. Williams, just follow Fred, an’ he’ll show you to yer room. Enjoy your stay.”  My wife gave me another look, but said nothing and followed me and Fred.

     We walked out through the side door of the office that exited to a central courtyard.  When we got outside, we both were struck dumb by the site of the pool.  “Is that a goose swimming in the, um.. excuse me, um, Fred is it?” My wife asked hesitantly.  Fred half turned with a humph, “huh, what’s that?” he asked, looking at my wife.  “I asked, is that the pool?”  He gave us a blank look for a moment, then fixed his gaze on the “pool”.  “Yes Ma’am, that there’s the finest pool in these parts.”  “Yes, but there’s a goose swimming in there.  And is that a…” she trailed off, staring at something at the bottom of the pool. “Ahem, is that a tire at the bottom of the pool?” she asked incredulously.  “Hmm, oh that,” said Fred.  “Yeah, hadn’t gotten ‘round to pullin’ that out yet.  Been meaning to do that since last August.”  My wife blanched, and gave me a scathing look.  I gave a half hearted laugh, which died in my throat.  I looked at the pool again, and then back to Fred, when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.  I suddenly looked back at the pool, and stood dumbfounded as I saw something long, large and black gliding through the water.  “What the HELL is that?” My wife asked in alarm.  Fred casually glanced back at the object moving in the pool and replied equally casually, “Ah that?  That ain’t nuttin’ but a little ole’ bitty water moccasin.  He won’t hurt ye.  Just give ‘im a wide berth, if ya know what I mean.”  My wife was visibly shaking at this point.  Whether it was from fright, or anger, I couldn’t quite tell just yet, but I wasn’t anxious to find out.

      We finally got to our room.  Fred inserted the key, giving the knob a turn, followed by a swift kick to the door.  “Sometimes the humidity makes the door stick.  Just gotta give it a good kick if’n that happens,” he said, handing me the keys.  I didn’t bother looking at my wife, knowing she was giving me the harriest of eyeballs.  The door opened, and we were both assaulted by the smell of something acrid.  My wife had her hand over her mouth in an instant, and I wasn’t a moment behind.  We looked at each other, and I noticed that her eyes were actually watering.  With that, we both exited as quickly as we could, leaving Fred standing in the doorway.  We both walked in a very hurried pace, almost running back to the front office.  Before I could say anything, my wife grabbed the keys, and slammed them down on the front desk, giving Earl a nasty start.  “What in the HELL is wrong lady?” asked Earl, who was breathing heavily, and was clutching at his shirt.  In her sweetest albeit annoyed voice she said, “I’m sorry, umm, Earl is it?  Yes, We’ve decided that we’ve changed our mind, and will not be staying at your establishment for the duration of our stay.”  Early blinked, as she walked out the front door, slamming it.  This sudden noise woke the hound dog up who responded with a loud howl, which made my wife scream in shock, followed by a long string of obscenities.  I looked at Earl with a slight shrug.  “Just charge us for the one evening.  Thanks,” I said with a sheepish smile, as I back-stepped to the front door.   Earl, for his part, just stared at us as we hurried to our car.  “What in THE HELL is wrong with them damned Yankees?” said Fred who had come up to the front office.  Earl didn’t say anything, but shook his head.  I could only guess what they were saying as we pulled out of the driveway, throwing dirt and rocks all over the place.  My wife was shaking again.  I gave her a quick sidelong glance, preparing for whatever she had to dish out at me.  To my great relief, she was laughing hysterically.  “That is the LAST time I let you book a hotel online.”

At Odds

It was raining again. It seems to always do that on the days I move. Oh well, I guess I should be used to it by now, this is Seattle after all. I pulled up to the row of duplexes on Denny Way and slowed to count the house numbers. 1205, green house, white trim, “This is the one,” I said to no one in particular. I pulled into the driveway and busily started unpacking my things from the car. Realizing I didn’t have the key, I headed to the front door and was about to knock when I noticed an envelop with my name on it. I opened it, and found a key, and a brief note that read:

Daniel,

Welcome HOME! Please make yourself comfortable. I’m out for a run. Back in a bit.

• Michael R. Howe

“Strange…” I thought to myself. Who signs their whole name on a note? I shrugged it off, and started to unload the car. I was still a little miffed at my buddy Tom, who was supposed to help me move, but somehow, he conveniently found something else to do instead…frigging flake I thought to myself, not for the first time.

It was about 5:00 pm when I finally got the last of my stuff unloaded and dropped into my room. “Hello, Daniel? Ya here?” came a voice from down the hall. “Yeah, Mike, in my bedroom,” I replied as I set about the task of unpacking my things. I didn’t look up when he entered the room, but I could tell he was there. For some reason, the temperature in the room seemed to change, as if a door or window had been opened. “Daniel, hey Daniel!” I looked up to see my new roommate who was dressed in old sweats and a torn AC/DC tee shirt with a head band. His eyes were a dull gray, the color of a cinder block, and had no spark to them at all. The head band wrapped around a head of dull brown hair. “Actually I prefer if you call my by my given name, Michael. Thank you Daniel.” “Uh, no problem, uh Michael. It’s just Dan for me. Thanks” “Oh, no Daniel, I could not just call you Dan, it’s not your name Daniel. That’s a much better name to be called Daniel.” “Whatever man, either way. It’s all good.” He continued to watch me as I unpacked. I decided to ignore him, in the hopes that he’d eventually get bored and go take a shower or something. “You know, I have a label maker, and I would love to help by making labels for you,” he said with all the emotion of a corpse. “Oh, yeah, I noticed the labels when I came in today. I was wondering about that. He didn’t respond, but continued to watch me. “You want to come in and sit on the bed while I unpack?” I asked. I figured that he wasn’t going anywhere at this point. “No thank you Daniel.” He continued to just watch me blankly. It was starting to creep me out a bit, so I tried a new tact, “Man, I am thirsty, wanna have a beer?” I asked him. “Huh? Oh Yeah, I’d love a beer. Wait right here, I’ll go grab it.” Finally I thought to myself. Michael came back a couple of minutes later with two Michelob Dry beers. I tried not to let my eyebrows raise up at the site of this. “Thanks Mike, er Michael.” “No problem roomie,” he said, handing me the beer. I took the beer and began to chug it, partially out of thirst, partially because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. He continued to look at me blankly, but then broke the awkward silence saying, “You shouldn’t drink beer so fast Daniel, it’s not healthy.” I belched, loudly, and gave him a crooked stare of my own, “Oh? And how is that so, Mr. Howe?” He looked momentarily confused, as if he was trying to come up with a rebuttal, but was having a difficult time of it. “It’s got something to do with your body fat index increasing if consuming alcohol quickly.” I gave him one of my own flat stares for a few long moments, before I said, “Bullshit!” He ignored this, and started in on a new line of conversation, “Say, Daniel, I go by the grocery store almost every day. Why not give me $50.00 a week, and I will take care of the shopping.” I wasn’t sure about this, but thought that it would be best to remain polite, “Uh, yeah, thanks Mike, er Michael. Trouble is, I am out of cash at the moment.” He blew this off with a wave of his hand, “Don’t worry roomie, I got you this week. It is all good.” I was taken back by this generosity for a moment, but found my composure and thanked him.

The rest of the afternoon and evening, I continued to unpack, blissful to be relieved of his company as he finally realized that he was sweaty, and needed a shower. I played the weird events of the afternoon over in my head, continually coming back to the conclusion that my new roommate, albeit a nice person, was very strange indeed. I chastised myself for that line of thinking about a person I barely knew, and resolved to give things another chance. It would be different tomorrow, and all I needed at this point was some shuteye.

The alarm went off, jarring me out of an excellent dream I was having about my friend’s sister, and a kiddy pool and jello, and her holding a can of whip-cream. I looked around, one eye shut, trying to make sense of the situation. I didn’t set an alarm I thought to myself. Besides, that’s not even my alarm I thought, my ire now rising. I was startled to full awake by my roommate standing right next to my bed in his pajamas (leopard spotted ones I might add), holding his iPhone right next to my head. “JESUS CHRIST!” I blurted out of shock. “Good Morning Daniel,” my new roommate said in a sing-song voice. “Rise and shine, Early bird gets the worm, and all that,” he said. “Oh blow it out your ass!” I mumbled under my breath. “What was that?” he asked giving me a sudden sharp look, “Nothing,” I said. “ Michael, what are you doing in my room at…” I trailed off, looking around for my clock. “Holy crap, FOUR THIRTY AM!??? WHAT IN THE HELL MICHAEL?” I yelled at him. He just waited patiently for me to be done blustering, before he responded. “You needed to get up, so you can do calisthenics while I grab a shower. It’s best if we wake up at the same time, so we can get into a routine schedule, you know.” “I most certainly DON’T know, Mike,” I spat. “I don’t start until noon today, as I have the second shift. Now if you’ll excuse me, I would like to go back to sleep.” He gave me one of his famous blank stares, and said in his annoyingly flat tone, “It’s Michael, Daniel. I thought we established that yesterday.” “Mike, Michael, whatever! I frankly do NOT care at FOUR THIRTY in the GODDAMNED MORNING!” He didn’t move. The Son of a bitch just stood there, gaping at me like a dead fish. “Did you hear me, Michael?” I said, drawing his name out to punctuate the statement. “We should get up at the same time, that way we can establish a routine schedule,” he repeated flatly, as if he had memorized a line out of a script. “Michael, I swear to GOD, if you don’t get out of my room IMMEDIATELY I’m going to throw your ass out!” Again, nothing, but the stare. “You’re not movin eh? You’re just going to stand there and look like a dead trout?” I said, my breath becoming audible with each second. I returned the stare for as long as I could, until I finally gave up, “FINE, I will get up! But I am taking a shower first!” His blank stare became one of surprise, like I’d slapped him, “No, Daniel, if we’re to establish a routine, I must be the first to take a shower. I didn’t listen to him, I was out the door with my towel in hand. He started after me, tapping me on the shoulder, “Daniel, did you not hear me, I need to be the first in the shower. He followed me until we got to the bathroom, where I promptly turned around and gave him the middle finger before I slammed the door in his face. “Daniel, DANIEL!? Did you not hear me? I need to be the first one in the shower. He stood outside the bathroom knocking insistently, but not pounding on the door, which took me by surprise. I turned on the water and let the steam rise into the air until the entire room was a steam bath. I stepped in and commenced to singing out of tune at the top of my lungs, the words to On top of old Smokey, but with the altered words my brother and I had made up when we were kids ,”

On top of old Smooookeeeey, all covered with sand,

I slapped my dumb room mate with a rubber chicken in hand.

I repeated the words over and over until at last, the knocking had ceased. Was he FINALLY Gone I wondered aloud.

I was still irked as hell at the thought of being woken up way earlier than I had planned, so I decided that I was going to make him suffer a tad, the control freak nut job. At the end of my shower, I stepped out quietly and let the water continue to run. I had deliberately turned the cold water off, so that the hot water continued to flow. I waited about a half hour, checking to make sure the temperature was gradually cooling every so often until it ran freezing cold. With that, I gathered my towel, and walked down the hallway, making sure to drip water behind me. That ought to please him to NO end I thought.

I didn’t hear anything from him as he entered the bathroom, and I even didn’t hear any shouts of outrage when the water was turned on. I laughed to myself, as I threw on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. Might as well get a ride in since I was already up, and there were no longer any prospects of sleeping in. I casually walked into the kitchen to grab some cereal before heading out on my bike, when I noticed the labels with numbers on them all around the kitchen. What in THE HELL is up with this guy I thought. Glancing from one side of the kitchen to the other, I could see that there was hardly a spot that didn’t have a labeled number on it. I shrugged, and approached the refrigerator, when I noticed several pieces of paper that were laminated and held together by a single ring binder. I grabbed it and started perusing its contents as I opened the fridge and grabbed the milk. Each label number corresponded with a notation on the paper, giving its proper corresponding location. “Man this guy’s out there,” I said aloud. The faintest of notions that I had made the wrong choice in apartments was tickling the back of my mind for a moment, but I shrugged it off.

I was still eating my cereal when Michael came into the kitchen. He gave me a cold look, and then bounded across the kitchen, grabbing up the milk which I had left out and placing it ever so gently back in its properly numbered location. He turned to be, giving me one of his blank stares for a moment before he said quietly, “You know, my last roommate didn’t appreciate the value of the system. I sure hope you learn to.” I stopped with my spoon poised at my mouth, milk dripping onto the table. I gave him a quizzical look, “What?” I asked. He ignored my look, and question, promptly taking up a towel and fastidiously wiping up the counter where the milk had been. I got up, grabbed my bowl, and stepped around him as I lightly tossed the bowl into the rubber wash basin in the sink. He was about to say something, but I ignored him and walked out.

Ten minutes later, I had my riding shorts, my helmet, and my wind breaker on, and was carrying my bike on my shoulder, heading to the door. Michael was standing in front of the door leaning against it with the intent to bar my exit. “Excuse me Mike,” I said. I had resolved that he would be forever called Mike by myself regardless of his preference. This guy was a jackass, and I was not in the mood for any more of his weirdness. “I said, EXCUSE ME, MIKE!!” Once again, he just looked at me with that flat stare. “All items in the kitchen need are to be washed and dried by hand before you go anywhere,” he said flatly, now crossing his arms. It was at this moment that I was happy that I was significantly bigger than him. I carefully set my bike down and grabbed him by the elbows firmly and bodily moved him out of the way. I didn’t say anything to him as I did this, and all he could do was just stare at me while I avoided his glance. Once moved, I picked up my bike, opened the door and walked out.

I came back around 10:00 am feeling much better having ridden my frustration off. I didn’t say anything as I entered the apartment. The kitchen, from what I could see was spotless, and all items were washed and put away. I shook my head as I walked back to my room, laughing quietly to myself. Opening the door, I was dumbstruck as I walked in and gazed bug eyed at my room which was littered with numbered labels. There weren’t just labels in places like the drawers, but labels on my laptop, my iPad, and in my closet. It too had been completely altered, with the shirts being hung in what I could only assume to be a logical pattern, based on color combinations. I felt like I was in the twilight zone, as I could feel my heart starting to palpitate quickly. I set the bike down, deciding that I in no uncertain terms, needed a beer to help me cope with this weirdness. Setting off to the kitchen, I could hear Michael therein, muttering to himself. “Hello Daniel,” he said in that annoying sing-song voice. I ignored him, as I stepped past him, reaching into the fridge. “What the HELL?” I gasped. “Where are the beers I bought last night?” I asked, turning towards him. “Those beers are fattening, and are not good for you, Daniel.” I was dumbfounded, and couldn’t speak. I glanced back in the fridge again, noticing for the first time that all of the food that I had brought with me was gone. In its place, I saw items I didn’t recognize like “TOFURKY Deli slices” and “Veganaise”.

This was the last straw. I turned to face him again, my eyes set in a cold, black stare, “What in the HELL is all of this crap!” I said in a low tone. He smiled at me, showing a toothy grin. “Oh, those are the foods you should eat. Eating vegan is a very good way to stay healthy. I stood there, my breathing becoming labored, as I felt the blood rushing to my head. I couldn’t see it, but I could have sworn that the vein on my temple was pulsating, growing more and more pronounced with each passing moment. “Mike,” I said, trying to maintain calm. “Michael,” he sang, “Remember?” That was the last straw. Before he could utter another word, I grabbed him by the upper arm in one hand, and the back of the head in the other, and ran him bodily straight into the refrigerator. His head struck, and he let out a whimpering cry. I smiled viciously, “Guess what Mike,” I said through my teeth, “Time to pay the piper.” With that, I hauled him up and half shoved, half threw him into the living room where he tripped over the back of the couch and landed with a loud SMACK on the hardwood floor. There was loud knock at the door, accompanied with a hesitant, “Michael, are you ok?” The neighbor next door had obviously heard the racket and came to investigate. “MICHAEL’s NOT HERE,” I bellowed, not allowing my idiot of a roommate a moment to speak. The knocking stopped. “Why are you doing this Daniel?” Michael asked, now panting heavily. “It’s better for your health,” I said simply. “And, oh, by the way, I am giving my notice to vacate, you stupid weird freak,” I said with an evil grin playing on my lips.

Before I could move to inflict any more damage, there was a lout knock at the door, followed by an even louder, “SEATTLE PD! Open UP!” I froze, not knowing what to do. Michael looked at me through the one eye that wasn’t swollen, and held up his iPhone in his other hand with the word “EMERGENCY CALL” printed in bold white letters. “You weren’t adhering to the system Daniel,” said Michael, a vicious grin now showing at the corners of his mouth. The next thing I knew, two Seattle cops had broken their door in, and flew into the room with guns drawn. “FREEZE PUNK!” they said in unison to me. I put my hands up, while the one police officer made to grab one hand to cuff it then the other. “All you had to do was adhere to my system Daniel. Guess you living here just isn’t going to work out after all.” And with that, I was hauled away.

His side

They sat across from one another in an awkward silence, each one glancing from their own glass, then tenatively to one another and then back down again. Tom was doing his best to pour on the charm, as this was his first date in six months. Per his friend Harry’s advice, he sported his black oversized took, his red and green flannel shirt, and of course his false hipster black horn-rimmed glasses. How could any girl worth her salt not go for the look. He cleared his throat, before he spoke haltingly to her, “So, you’re friends with Amy, Harry’s girlfriend?” “She looked up for a split second, and muttered, “yeah.” but didn’t offer up any other conversation. He glanced at her attire. Yeah, she had the flannel, and yeah, she was sporting the same black horn-rimmed glasses. This was awesome. They both seemed to be the silent types. This was chemistry he thought, not for the first time. Now all he had to do was to figure out something to talk about. “So, Christy… Do… you… like, um…” He was struggling desperately for something to say. He looked around, desperately seeking inspiration, before it struck him. “Monster trucks,” he blurted out. She gave him a brief look of disbelief. Having no social skills what-so-ever, he mis-read this as a good sign. “Um.. can’t say I’ve ever seriously considered this. With that, she said, “Can you excuse me, I really need to go to the restroom.” He smiled and gestured for her to do as she needed. Man, this is going better than I could ever have dreamed he thought to himself. Bet she’ll be into the fun stuff before too long, just got to keep cranking up the charm he thought. Little did he know that as he was sitting there contemplating what might happen, Christy was just getting into her Uber ride that had just pulled up.

Her Side

Christy gave a deep, but inaudible sigh, as she tried not to look her blind date in the eyes. God this guy was really trying to fit in. At first, she had thought he was mocking her, what with his attire, Jesus Christ, those aren’t even PRESCRIPTION glasses she thought. Where the hell does this guy get off she thought to herself. Is that broccoli in his teeth? I’m sooooo going to kill Amy the next time I see her. This is ALL HER FAULT! “So, you’re friends with Amy, Harry’s girlfriend?” He’d asked. Well DUH, IDIOT! That’s who set me up on this ridiculous stunt. What in THE HELL did I do to her? “Yeah.” was all she could stammer out. Bet this guy hasn’t had a date in like a year… if EVER she thought. This brought a slight smile to the corners of her mouth. OH NO, he’s mis-read that smile… DAMNIT! “…Like… Monster Trucks?” You have GOT to be kidding me. Her look of sheer disbelief must not have looked as damning as she thought, because he smiled, Clearly misreading the situation. That’s it, I’ve GOT to get out of here. Amy’s SO going to get a piece of my mind later on about this. “Can you excuse me, I really need to go to the bathroom,” she said. She didn’t even wait for an answer, and was already getting up from the booth as he made a quasi grandeous gesture with his hands. What in the hell does THAT mean she thought momentarily as she hurried to get away from that creep, and the situation in general. As she walked out, she had her phone in hand, madly trying to bring up the Uber app. Confirming her ride was only a couple of minutes away, she smiled to herself, as she dialed Amy. “….Hey, you’ve reached Amy. Can’t talk right now, so sing your song at the beep!” “Amy, you BITCH!!!! What in THE HELL did I ever do to YOU to get set up with this JOKE of an idiot. Don’t bother calling me back, and do not, I repeat, DO NOT give my number to this ass clown!” With that, she hung up and stepped into the back of the car. “Hi, 10^th and Broadway please,” she said to the driver as she closed the door and the car sped off.

Minutes of Infinity

James Edison was standing in the Shell station parking lot in Castle Rock, Washington, at the turnoff of Exit 49, waiting for the others in his party. This was to be the typical River Rat Sunday, with all the usual suspects. “Big Water” Dave Colton and Riley Covington were hoping to run their paddle saddle on Dave’s cat boat, but that remained to be seen. From Riley’s voicemail, it sounded like Dave had tied one too many the night before. Oh well, it wasn’t James’ place to worry. He was out to run his new Dagger Axiom kayak, and play guide for the float today. The weather was its typical drizzly, overcast self for a Pacific Northwest winter’s day, perfect for hitting the water and spending time with friends he’d not seen for a while. The sudden blast of a horn grabbed James’ attention as Joe Wilson pulled up in his beat up old Ford truck, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Call me the Breeze” blasting from the stereo. James smiled and shook his head at his friend. Wilson threw both hands up in a shrug as if to say, “What!? You got a problem with Skynyrd?” Next to show up was Paul Braddoch, who pulled up in his Toyota Tundra, and trailing his new thirteen foot Sotar cat-a-raft boat. James had been inspecting the new boat, when he noticed that Joe had joined him. Standing side by side, the two cast a considerable contrast, with Joe being short, stout and muscle bound, while James stood tall, and wiry with a swimmer’s build. Being from the northwest, naturally both men sported facial hair, but only James could claim having a coiffed look with his full beard being close cropped. They stood in silence for a moment before Joe asked blandly, “How many boats does Paul have now? Four?” “I believe this actually makes six, if you count the two he’s had up on Craig’s list for the last month” said James. Joe rolled his eyes as he started to walk away, and James could have sworn that he heard Joe say over his shoulder, “Pretentious rich bastard!” but couldn’t be certain.

The magazine had been on James for the last month about getting a piece done on one of the rivers of the northwest, as part of their “Jewels of the Majestic Pacific Northwest” edition. This would be the perfect opportunity to get that wrapped up, and it was hard to say no especially when it was a free trip home on his company’s dime. Things back in Salt Lake City where lived currently weren’t going all that well. When he thought of the the state that things had been left in with his girlfriend Megan, he felt that the trip wasn’t just a work gig, but a bonafide reason to get some much needed space. They’d been fighting more lately, and she seemed like she was becoming more aloof. His natural reaction was to pour on the charm, and thoughtfulness, subconsciously thinking that if he blended the right combinations of niceties, that she’d come back around. Trouble is, that it didn’t seem to be working this time. In addition, she’d been out on business trips more, and when she was home, she seemed to be distracted. His response to this was to get out on a “business trip” of his own, and really test himself and his limits on the river. If nothing else, he’d take his frustrations out on the river and show it who had the indomitable spirit.

The rest of the floaters had showed up, and after a few logistical arrangements made with the shuttle drivers, they were off. James had been staring out the window, and jumped a little when Joe tapped him on the shoulder and asked for the third time, “So, you gonna show us anything new today James?” “Sorry man, I was off in la la land for a moment. Uh, something new today? What like a different route through Hollywood rapid?” “Yeah, something like that,” came Joe’s response. “Well, seeing as the majority of you guys are running self-bailers, or cat boats, it might be kinda difficult, what with the size differentials and all,” said James “But I think I know of a couple of spots that you guys can go. Course, it all depends on the water gage today.”

After a half hour ride to the put in, the boaters got out and immediately set to the task of carrying their boats down to the launch spot. James stepped out of the van and stretched, The long long sinuous muscles on his five foot nine inch frame responded as they slowly un-bunched their kinks from the long drive up to the meeting place. He looked around, taking in this old familiar sites and smells of his home. The whispering through the tall pine trees that lined the river, in conjunction with the sound of the water was like a balm to him. It slowly stripped away the shouts and arguments in his head, until all he heard was that old familiar sound of the water rushing around the rocks. He stood on the bank looking down at the deep green of the river. It was calling to him, beckoning him to let her enfold him in her chilly embrace. It was a call he could not, and would not resist. After giving the safety briefing to the other boaters, he settled himself down into his cockpit, and did his final checks, making sure that his splash skirt was secure around the rim. He reached down and brought up a handful of the frigid Toutle river and splashed himself in the face. This was a personal tradition when he began a run, which was something he and his brother had done since they were kids. His brother had said that it was a nod to the river goddess, asking her to bless the run. He never really bought into that whole thing, but nevertheless performed the ritual like clock work every time.

With the checks on his equipment complete, he gave one good shove from the bank and was out in the current. He made a couple of strokes to the far side of the river where he waited out the other boaters in the group to launch. Joe Wilson had come up beside him to wait. They both sat in silence for a moment when Joe gave James a sidelong glance, “Really glad you could make it up here this weekend man. I was afraid you were gonna miss it.” “I wouldn’t have missed this world man. Free trip home to hang with my boys? Never!” Joe couldn’t help but notice the ghost of an expression of melancholy in James’ eyes. “Everything ok man?” Joe asked casually. “Couldn’t help but to notice that you’ve got this look.” James glanced at him. “I’ve got a look? What does it say?” “I dunno, just like something’s gnawing at your edges.” James sighed a bit. “Yeah, Megan and I’ve seemed to hit a rough patch. Not sure what’s going on, but she been more, I dunno, distant, I guess.” “Well, she’s got that jet set work schedule doesn’t she?” asked Joe. “Yeah, but I don’t know if that’s the issue. It’s hard to put a finger on it. All I know is that we’ve been fighting a lot more as of late, and none of my normal charms are working.” Joe gave his friend a sympathetic look and patted him lightly on the shoulder. “Well, maybe this weekend is just what the doctor ordered you know? Some time away, to get your head cleared… and there’s nothing quite like some good ol’ rapid action to do just that.”

The last of the party had launched, so it was time to head to the front of the line and do his guiding thing. James gave Joe a nod, pointing his chin to the back of the line of boats. “Mind doing sweep for the first part of it?” Joe didn’t say anything, but with a look of determination he set his jaw, and squared his shoulders. He gave Jame a quick look and a slight nod of ascent. With that, James gave one powerful pull with his paddle and shot to the front where he assumed his position at the head of the flotilla. For the most part, he was able to keep his focus on the river, but his thoughts drifted to Megan every once in a while. These moments only served to amp up his blood pressure, making him feel restless and anxious. He needed to hit some white water quick to get his mind back in the game. To punctuate his growing frustration, his cell phone buzzed from the depths of the inner pocket in his dry suite. Great he thought, what perfect timing. He ignored it, as there was nothing he could do about it now, because the first of the day’s rapids were just around the bend. The phone buzzed in his pocket again, almost as if whoever was calling knew that he was about to engage in some rough water. A feeling of aggression began to blossom in the pit of his stomach with the anticipation of the first set of rapids. These weren’t so tough to negotiate, but there was one rock that was hidden towards the middle of the set that could pose a problem for the other boaters, and he needed to be able to concentrate on that spot to keep an eye out for any potential danger. The phone went off again, its buzzing only served to feed his growing sense of agitation.

The rock that could pose a potential threat was covered with the raised level of the river. This created a large hole which could very easily pull some unsuspecting kayaker in and chew them up. James swung wide of the spot and waved frantically to the first of the boaters. Seeing that he’d gotten their attention, he used his paddle to point at the potential danger. Paul Braddoch was first up in his cat boat. He wouldn’t have any issues with the spot, as his boat would just run right over the rock and skip past the hole. However, Adeline Peterson was behind him in her snub-nosed kayak, and James couldn’t be sure whether she could see his gesticulations or not. She was competent kayaker, and James didn’t think she’d opt for the line that he’d taken. Instead, she’d most likely go wide around this first set, opting for the easier line.

His concentration had become split between the line of boaters and the incessant ringing of his cell phone, so he didn’t notice that his kayak had caught the current of the hydraulic that popped up from underneath him. It pushed him ever so gently in towards the hole, and before he knew what was happening, he’d been flipped. The water gripped him with icy fingers, threatening to pull him down. Things were happening so quickly, that he’d barely had time to register what was going on, save that his perspective had gone from looking up river at his friends to a green hazy view of a darkened hole below him. Struggling not to panic, he focused on using his paddle to leverage his position back upright. He pushed with everything he had, trying to contort his torso upright, and eventually breached the surface. Almost as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The grip of the river abated, and everything was suddenly back to normal. Oddly enough, the situation didn’t give James pause, because he’d been in situations like that countless number of times. Instead, it seemed to invigorate him, jolting him awake. He let out a loud “WHOOP!” and flashed a toothy grin.

Joe had seen his friend go under, and had to restrain himself from abandoning his post in the rear of the flotilla, to investigate. He stilled his hand, knowing that James was a veteran kayaker with more than twenty years in the cockpit, and this was nothing to worry about. Still, he couldn’t shake that look in James’ face when they were waiting for the others to launch. He smiled though, when his friend popped up at the tail end of the back flow behind the rock. His smile broadened when he hear James’ cry of exultation, and sighed somewhat in relief. He quickly paddled around to the outside of the line of the boaters to make sure that the other kayakers didn’t get pulled into the same spot. As was suspected, Adeline had skirted the first set, and was waiting next to James who had pulled over to a back eddy out of the main current. He had his paddle held in both hands laid across the front of his cockpit. He had his eye closed, and was shaking his head, but was not visibly shaken up that Joe could see.

James was shaking his head because his phone had resumed its incessant buzzing. Adeline had noticed, and inquired about it. “The damned thing has been going off since above that rapid,” said James in an exasperated tone. “Perhaps it’s urgent.” offered Adeline. “Yeah, well, I really can’t get to it unless I stop and take off my dry suit. Whoever it is, they can wait,” said James with finality. Joe had come up to them at this point and was shaking his head at James, “Man, what happened back there?” “Got distracted,” said James, simply. “I was just telling Adeline that my damned cell phone keeps going off, and it was doing so when that hydraulic got a hold of me.” “Everything other than that ok?” asked Joe. “Yeah, I really should just turn the damned thing off, though in truth, I really didn’t think I’d get signal out here.” said James. “When we pull over for lunch, I’ll turn it off then.”

They three kayakers hurried to catch up with the group. As he passed the other boaters, he saw that Paul Braddoch was trying to get his attention. “Looks like there’s a snag up near Coffee Pot rapid James. How do you want to handle it?” he asked, as James came alongside his boat. “Are you comfortable running the left-hand line?” asked James. Paul stood up and craned his neck for a better look. “Yeah, I think I can make it. Perhaps you can hang back and I’ll run it, and then give the all clear once I get a good look.” James nodded his ascent to Paul’s plan and pulled over to another eddy. Paul had made his way quickly through the rapid, and James could see that the going would be fairly straight forward for the rest of the group. He waved them on, signaling that they should follow Paul’s line. When the last of them had gone by, including Adeline, James looked to see where Joe was. He scanned around the river until he spotted Joe on river left, eddied out above the tumultuous rapid known as Coffee Pot. He was waving to James and pointing at the line he had intended to take. James nodded and gave the thumbs up.

Joe entered the rapid, and made quick work of it, but James could see that he had opted to skirt to the left of the big rock on the right-hand side. He scoffed at his friend, thinking that Joe wimped out at the last moment. Having forgotten all about the incident at the first rapid, James’ impetuous nature took over, as he eyed the line that he planned to take. The tendency to leap without looking was one the major bones that Megan had to pick with him, and had in fact been one of the reasons for their most recent fight. However, at the moment, all thoughts of said fight had flowed out of him, like so much water over the rocks that lay ahead of him. Why not hit Coffee Pot right in the meat he thought to himself. He’d done it a couple of years ago at a lower water level, and came through it just fine. The difference this time would be that the water was moving quite a bit faster, meaning that snap judgments would have to be made on the fly. His mind made up, he set up his line and paddled forward, aiming for the center of the line that would go right over the center of the rock.

Joe had come out of the rapid at this point, and was hanging off the bank on the left hand side just down stream. He turned in time to catch James’ descent into the top of the rapid. He had expected his friend to follow his line, as it was evident by the downed tree that was just below the big rock, that the right-hand line was not feasible. What he didn’t realize however, was that James entered the rapid from the right-hand side instead of the left, meaning he wouldn’t be able to see the danger until he was already on top of it. In that instance, his heart stopped as he could only watch in horror, as his friend rode over the top of the rock and plummeted down into the back wash caused by the fallen tree. The last thing he saw was the look of terror on James’ ice blue eyes as his kayak slammed into the tree, momentarily wedging it in between the tree and the rock, then was ripped down by the force of the water, dragging the kayak into the backwash underneath the boulder.

“JIMMY!!!” screamed Joe in sheer panic, unable to do anything as the current seemed too strong to try to paddle back up stream. What was worse, was the fact that this particular spot of the river was lined with thirty foot high cliff walls on both sides, and the only place to pull out and hike back to the place where James went under, was down river about a quarter of a mile. Joe’s mind raced, as he tried to think of the best way to reach his friend. He looked down river to where Paul Braddoch was. He was too far down river to yell instructions to. Panic gripped him and threatened to take over as Joe frantically looked around for a place to get out, and to see if he could see any of the other boaters. At this point James had been under for about a minute. Joe scanned back and forth, searching desperately for any sign of his friend. Something yellow caught his attention as it came shooting out from the tail out of the back wash. It was James’ paddle. A moment later, James’ kayak floated lazily to the surface, but James was nowhere to be seen. A solid ball of ice formed in Joe’s stomach as the reality that his friend’s chances of coming out of that were slim to none. “JOE!” yelled Adeline. She had come from behind a large boulder just down river from Joe. “Addy, you have to get to Paul and get him to hike back up. James’ got eaten by Coffee Pot!” yelled Joe. She gave one quick nod in understanding, turned, and paddled quickly out of site.

Two and half minutes turned into three minutes, and then four. “JAMES!” screamed Joe once more in vain, now desperate for any sign of his friend. He caught site of James’ kayak as it floated limply around in an eddy just down river from him. Joe made ready to go and retrieve it, when something appeared out of the corner of his eye, something green that was under the surface of the water. It had to be him. Joe strained and pulled, fighting against the current which was fighting back, battering and pounding his kayak against the rock. He’d been able to make it back up river about five yards before the current shifted again, and his kayak was pushed by an invisible hand back against the rock face. All he could do at this point was hold station and hope that whatever the green object was, would float past him soon. Six minutes has elapsed by this time, but Joe didn’t have time to think about that. He craned his neck desperately trying to see what the object was that caught his attention earlier. It was James. Commending his own soul to God, Joe gave one good push with his paddle and was able to turn himself around and take off after James. He’d come up on him right as the current split around another large boulder in the middle of the river. If he didn’t reach James in time, he would be caught against the rock and most likely get dragged even further under water. Joe made a split second decision and paddled over the top of James to get down river of him. He swung his kayak around, and jammed his paddle into the water in hopes that he could catch his paddle on James’ life jacket. One try, the a second, when he felt his paddle catch. Joe pulled with all of the last of his strength, and was rewarded with the site of James’ life jacket finally breaching the surface of the water. He threw himself out of his own boat and grabbed for his friend.

Joe had lost track of how far they’d gone, his focus having fixed on the unconscious body of his friend. Therefore, he was completely startled by the sensation of being struck in the head by something. His shock turned to a flood of relief as the familiar rasp of the safety line dragged across his torso. He had one hand under James’ arm, keeping his head out of the water, while the other clutched the rope with an iron grip. Adeline was shouting directions to Paul and Riley as the swimmers came within sight. She was at Joe’s side instantly working feverishly to position her kayak to allow Joe to pull James on to it. After a couple of minutes, they had secured him well enough to the front of her boat, and she paddled the three of them over to shore. Riley had been able to make his way back up stream to where James’ kayak had wedged itself under a log, and was able to free it. Meanwhile, Paul had ran down Joe’s kayak. Back on the shore, Adeline was out of her boat, in seconds and administering CPR to James. He lay there, a lifeless corpse, with his face a pale gray behind his dark beard. Joe was out of breath, but right by her side helping any way they could. Minutes passed with little reaction from James. He would breath once or twice, but then not respond at all. Joe and Adeline redoubled their efforts, in a mad attempt to bring any sign of life back to their fallen friend. He didn’t fully start breathing on his own for another couple of minutes, at which time, it came in weak gasps.

He finally came to after six full minutes of unconsciousness. He coughed and sputtered water from his lungs, as he took in huge gulps of air. He’d felt like he had just woken up from a long sleep disturbed by fragmented dreams. His friends sighed heavily, glad and relieved to have their friend back with them. James looked back and forth with unfocused eyes, but finally settled on the dour countenances of Joe and Adeline. “Hey guys,” he said with a raspy voice. “Where am I?” he asked, looking around trying to get his bearings. “Below Coffee Pot Jimmy, you got eaten.” said Joe in a low voice. “Oh my GOD!” said James, now starting to recall the past twenty minutes. “I remember seeing that tree that sort of loomed up out of the spray under the rock. Then I remember getting wedged in between the tree and the boulder. After that, things went really fast, and I remember looking up at the sky before I was engulfed. The last thing I remember was trying to get out of my cockpit, but then everything went black. Joe gave him a long, hard, look. “Dude, what in the HELL were you thinking? Didn’t you see me go wide of the rock?” James stared back at his friend, looking slightly defensive. “Yeah, I did Joe, but I guess I figured that you got cold feet. I mean, I couldn’t see the tree from where I was.” “Jimmy, we all know you have a horrible habit of shooting from the hip,” said Adeline who spoke up for the first time. “What are you talking about Addy?” asked James indignantly. “I mean, you never stop to think about these kinds of things, you know? You just, go for it!” “Which is fine for some things, but this could have killed you… HELL, it did kill you, albeit for a few minutes man!” interrupted Joe. James bowed his head and said softly, “You’re right guys. I’m really sorry. I just…” He trailed off, “I’d just been playing the argument that I’d had with Megan over and over in my head, and when I saw Coffee Pot, I just sort of went on autopilot, you know?”

As if on cue, James’ cell phone went off, its unrelenting buzz sounding like a maddened hornet. Joe and Adeline gave James a quizzical look before the three of them broke out in a quiet laugh, the tension sliding away from the moment like a receding tide. James fumbled inside of his dry suit and produced his phone, somewhat shocked that it still worked, and had a signal. “Wow, three bars out here, who’d have thunk.” he said. The message on the display read Missed call from Megan. He raised one eyebrow looking at the phone and then at Joe and Adeline, then thumbed in his pass code. He looked at the call log which displayed fifteen missed calls from Megan, and five text messages which gave varying versions of the same message; CALL ME ASAP!!!! He dialed her number, still surprised that he had any signal, and waited. “Jamie? Is that you?” “Yeah sweetheart, what’s up? Why all of the messages and phone calls? Is everything ok?” he asked, trying to put an air of calm in his voice. Joe and Adeline suddenly realized that they were eaves dropping on the call, and awkwardly looked away. James watched them as he halfway listened to Megan. “…And anyway, I went to the doctor this yesterday…” “Yeah?” said James, his voice going up in pitch. “Jamie… I’m pregnant.” His eyes went wide, as his face returned to the grayish pallor that it had been just minutes before. “Uhhh, WOW… really? You and me?” At this, Joe and Adeline turned abruptly to see James staring wide-eyed in disbelief. “Wow, that’s FANTASTIC!” a wide grin now displayed on his face. “Listen, honey, I’m on the river still, and we’ve gotta catch up to the group.” He lingered for another moment before he put down the phone and stared at the water rushing by in disbelief. “What is it Jimmy?” asked Joe, “Everything ok?” He looked up at his friends and announced without fanfare, “I’m gonna be a dad guys….” He trailed off, “…I died just a few minutes ago. Holy GOD!” Joe smiled momentarily, but then looked serious, and then started to chortle. It was James’ turn to give the quizzical look. “What?” he said. Joe looked down, and then at Adeline before he fixed his gaze on James. “I hate to say it my friend, but I guess this changes everything, which is to say, I bet you’re gonna start thinking twice before you go taking that blind leap anymore.”

Fin

The rock that could pose a potential threat was covered with the raised level of the river. This created a large hole which could very easily pull some unsuspecting kayaker in and chew them up. James swung wide of the spot and waved frantically to the first of the boaters. Seeing that he’d gotten their attention, he used his paddle to point at the potential danger. Paul Braddock was first up in his cat boat. He wouldn’t have any issues with the spot, as his boat would just run right over the rock and skip past the hole. However, Adeline Peterson was behind him in her snub-nosed kayak, and James couldn’t be sure whether she could see his gesticulations or not. She was competent kayaker, and James didn’t think she’d opt for the line that he’d taken. Instead, she’d most likely go wide around this first set, opting for the easier line.

His concentration had become split between the line of boaters and the incessant ringing of his cell phone, so he didn’t notice that his kayak had caught the current of the hydraulic that popped up from underneath him. It pushed him ever so gently in towards the hole, and before he knew what was happening, he’d been flipped. The water gripped him with icy fingers, threatening to pull him down. Things were happening so quickly, that he’d barely had time to register what was going on, save that his perspective had gone from looking up river at his friends to a green hazy view of a darkened hole below him. Struggling not to panic, he focused on using his paddle to leverage his position back upright. He pushed with everything he had, trying to contort his torso upright, and eventually breached the surface. Almost as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The grip of the river abated, and everything was suddenly back to normal. Oddly enough, the situation didn’t give James pause, because he’d been in situations like that countless number of times. Instead, it seemed to invigorate him, jolting him awake. He let out a loud “WHOOP!” and flashed a toothy grin.

Joe had seen his friend go under, and had to restrain himself from abandoning his post in the rear of the flotilla, to investigate. He stilled his hand, knowing that James was a veteran kayaker with more than twenty years in the cockpit, and this was nothing to worry about. Still, he couldn’t shake that look in James’ face when they were waiting for the others to launch. He smiled though, when his friend popped up at the tail end of the back flow behind the rock. His smile broadened when he hear James’ cry of exultation, and sighed somewhat in relief. He quickly paddled around to the outside of the line of the boaters to make sure that the other kayakers didn’t get pulled into the same spot. As was suspected, Adeline had skirted the first set, and was waiting next to James who had pulled over to a back eddy out of the main current. He had his paddle held in both hands laid across the front of his cockpit. He had his eye closed, and was shaking his head, but was not visibly shaken up that Joe could see.

James was shaking his head because his phone had resumed its incessant buzzing. Adeline had noticed, and inquired about it. “The damned thing has been going off since above that rapid,” said James in an exasperated tone. “Perhaps it’s urgent.” offered Adeline. “Yeah, well, I really can’t get to it unless I stop and take off my dry suit. Whoever it is, they can wait,” said James with finality. Joe had come up to them at this point and was shaking his head at James, “Man, what happened back there?” “Got distracted,” said James, simply. “I was just telling Adeline that my damned cell phone keeps going off, and it was doing so when that hydraulic got a hold of me.” “Everything other than that ok?” asked Joe. “Yeah, I really should just turn the damned thing off, though in truth, I really didn’t think I’d get signal out here.” said James. “When we pull over for lunch, I’ll turn it off then.”

They three kayakers hurried to catch up with the group. As he passed the other boaters, he saw that Paul Braddock was trying to get his attention. “Looks like there’s a snag up near Coffee Pot rapid James. How do you want to handle it?” he asked, as James came alongside his boat. “Are you comfortable running the left-hand line?” asked James. Paul stood up and craned his neck for a better look. “Yeah, I think I can make it. Perhaps you can hang back and I’ll run it, and then give the all clear once I get a good look.” James nodded his ascent to Paul’s plan and pulled over to another eddy. Paul had made his way quickly through the rapid, and James could see that the going would be fairly straight forward for the rest of the group. He waved them on, signaling that they should follow Paul’s line. When the last of them had gone by, including Adeline, James looked to see where Joe was. He scanned around the river until he spotted Joe on river left, eddied out above the tumultuous rapid known as Coffee Pot. He was waving to James and pointing at the line he had intended to take. James nodded and gave the thumbs up.

Joe entered the rapid, and made quick work of it, but James could see that he had opted to skirt to the left of the big rock on the right-hand side. He scoffed at his friend, thinking that Joe wimped out at the last moment. Having forgotten all about the incident at the first rapid, James’ impetuous nature took over, as he eyed the line that he planned to take. The tendency to leap without looking was one the major bones that Megan had to pick with him, and had in fact been one of the reasons for their most recent fight. However, at the moment, all thoughts of said fight had flowed out of him, like so much water over the rocks that lay ahead of him. Why not hit Coffee Pot right in the meat he thought to himself. He’d done it a couple of years ago at a lower water level, and came through it just fine. The difference this time would be that the water was moving quite a bit faster, meaning that snap judgments would have to be made on the fly. His mind made up, he set up his line and paddled forward, aiming for the center of the line that would go right over the center of the rock.

Joe had come out of the rapid at this point, and was hanging off the bank on the left hand side just down stream. He turned in time to catch James’ descent into the top of the rapid. He had expected his friend to follow his line, as it was evident by the downed tree that was just below the big rock, that the right-hand line was not feasible. What he didn’t realize however, was that James entered the rapid from the right-hand side instead of the left, meaning he wouldn’t be able to see the danger until he was already on top of it. In that instance, his heart stopped as he could only watch in horror, as his friend rode over the top of the rock and plummeted down into the back wash caused by the fallen tree. The last thing he saw was the look of terror on James’ ice blue eyes as his kayak slammed into the tree, momentarily wedging it in between the tree and the rock, then was ripped down by the force of the water, dragging the kayak into the backwash underneath the boulder.

“JIMMY!!!” screamed Joe in sheer panic, unable to do anything as the current seemed too strong to try to paddle back up stream. What was worse, was the fact that this particular spot of the river was lined with thirty foot high cliff walls on both sides, and the only place to pull out and hike back to the place where James went under, was down river about a quarter of a mile. Joe’s mind raced, as he tried to think of the best way to reach his friend. He looked down river to where Paul Braddock was. He was too far down river to yell instructions to. Panic gripped him and threatened to take over as Joe frantically looked around for a place to get out, and to see if he could see any of the other boaters. At this point James had been under for about a minute. Joe scanned back and forth, searching desperately for any sign of his friend. Something yellow caught his attention as it came shooting out from the tail out of the back wash. It was James’ paddle. A moment later, James’ kayak floated lazily to the surface, but James was nowhere to be seen. A solid ball of ice formed in Joe’s stomach as the reality that his friend’s chances of coming out of that were slim to none. “JOE!” yelled Adeline. She had come from behind a large boulder just down river from Joe. “Addy, you have to get to Paul and get him to hike back up. James’ got eaten by Coffee Pot!” yelled Joe. She gave one quick nod in understanding, turned, and paddled quickly out of site.

Two and half minutes turned into three minutes, and then four. “JAMES!” screamed Joe once more in vain, now desperate for any sign of his friend. He caught site of James’ kayak as it floated limply around in an eddy just down river from him. Joe made ready to go and retrieve it, when something appeared out of the corner of his eye, something green that was under the surface of the water. It had to be him. Joe strained and pulled, fighting against the current which was fighting back, battering and pounding his kayak against the rock. He’d been able to make it back up river about five yards before the current shifted again, and his kayak was pushed by an invisible hand back against the rock face. All he could do at this point was hold station and hope that whatever the green object was, would float past him soon. Six minutes has elapsed by this time, but Joe didn’t have time to think about that. He craned his neck desperately trying to see what the object was that caught his attention earlier. It was James. Commending his own soul to God, Joe gave one good push with his paddle and was able to turn himself around and take off after James. He’d come up on him right as the current split around another large boulder in the middle of the river. If he didn’t reach James in time, he would be caught against the rock and most likely get dragged even further under water. Joe made a split second decision and paddled over the top of James to get down river of him. He swung his kayak around, and jammed his paddle into the water in hopes that he could catch his paddle on James’ life jacket. One try, the a second, when he felt his paddle catch. Joe pulled with all of the last of his strength, and was rewarded with the site of James’ life jacket finally breaching the surface of the water. He threw himself out of his own boat and grabbed for his friend.

Joe had lost track of how far they’d gone, his focus having fixed on the unconscious body of his friend. Therefore, he was completely startled by the sensation of being struck in the head by something. His shock turned to a flood of relief as the familiar rasp of the safety line dragged across his torso. He had one hand under James’ arm, keeping his head out of the water, while the other clutched the rope with an iron grip. Adeline was shouting directions to Paul and Riley as the swimmers came within sight. She was at Joe’s side instantly working feverishly to position her kayak to allow Joe to pull James on to it. After a couple of minutes, they had secured him well enough to the front of her boat, and she paddled the three of them over to shore. Riley had been able to make his way back up stream to where James’ kayak had wedged itself under a log, and was able to free it. Meanwhile, Paul had ran down Joe’s kayak. Back on the shore, Adeline was out of her boat, in seconds and administering CPR to James. He lay there, a lifeless corpse, with his face a pale gray behind his dark beard. Joe was out of breath, but right by her side helping any way they could. Minutes passed with little reaction from James. He would breath once or twice, but then not respond at all. Joe and Adeline redoubled their efforts, in a mad attempt to bring any sign of life back to their fallen friend. He didn’t fully start breathing on his own for another couple of minutes, at which time, it came in weak gasps.

He finally came to after six full minutes of unconsciousness. He coughed and sputtered water from his lungs, as he took in huge gulps of air. He’d felt like he had just woken up from a long sleep disturbed by fragmented dreams. His friends sighed heavily, glad and relieved to have their friend back with them. James looked back and forth with unfocused eyes, but finally settled on the dour countenances of Joe and Adeline. “Hey guys,” he said with a raspy voice. “Where am I?” he asked, looking around trying to get his bearings. “Below Coffee Pot Jimmy, you got eaten.” said Joe in a low voice. “Oh my GOD!” said James, now starting to recall the past twenty minutes. “I remember seeing that tree that sort of loomed up out of the spray under the rock. Then I remember getting wedged in between the tree and the boulder. After that, things went really fast, and I remember looking up at the sky before I was engulfed. The last thing I remember was trying to get out of my cockpit, but then everything went black. Joe gave him a long, hard, look. “Dude, what in the HELL were you thinking? Didn’t you see me go wide of the rock?” James stared back at his friend, looking slightly defensive. “Yeah, I did Joe, but I guess I figured that you got cold feet. I mean, I couldn’t see the tree from where I was.” “Jimmy, we all know you have a horrible habit of shooting from the hip,” said Adeline who spoke up for the first time. “What are you talking about Addy?” asked James indignantly. “I mean, you never stop to think about these kinds of things, you know? You just, go for it!” “Which is fine for some things, but this could have killed you… HELL, it did kill you, albeit for a few minutes man!” interrupted Joe. James bowed his head and said softly, “You’re right guys. I’m really sorry. I just…” He trailed off, “I’d just been playing the argument that I’d had with Megan over and over in my head, and when I saw Coffee Pot, I just sort of went on autopilot, you know?”

“Move.”

I suck in a breath as the woman pushes past me, barely glancing back as she savagely digs an elbow into my ribcage. Her stilettos beat out a staccato rhythm to urban Arizona’s melody of yelling cabbies and honking cars.

“Sorry,” I call after her, though I’m not really sure why I’m apologizing, and carry on my way to the glass-and-steel building that rules the skyline.

Cortec is the biggest law firm in the entire West Coast. It’s full of vicious, competitive people who’ll stoop to the lowest of levels to get what they want; they’re on the news often enough. But a job there would keep me supported for the rest of my life, and that’s an opportunity I can’t pass up.

I push down the edges of my skirt, take a deep breath, and march into the company with my head hanging so low it practically touches my chest.

The secretary takes one look at me and takes her time checking me off the waitlist, popping her gum obnoxiously. “Oh. Aeria Cedar? Um, okay.” Pop. “Yeah, you can just go into the room marked 15.”

“Thank you so much,” I more or less mumble, my face obscured by a curtain of long dark hair, and inch towards the place she talked about.

The man sitting in the room is in the classic bad-guy pose — his back to me, facing the window, squeaking on his swivel chair, a pen sticking out of his mouth. I know it should be funny in its clicheness, but it’s slightly intimidating.

As I enter, he places his wingtips on the window and attempts to turn around.

Only for his feet to slip. He falls out of his seat and barely stops himself from breaking his face on the carpet. The green pen in his mouth ruptures, coating his features in ink. For a sixty-something important-looking guy, it’s not very graceful.

I consider laughing, but then he looks up and gives me a glare so scorching I shrivel and wither. I’ve never been the bravest of people.

“Hi, I’m Aeria. I’m looking for a p-position here,” I say, and my voice cracks.

“Mmm, that’s great,” he says, twirling the broken writing utensil on his fingertip. “And why do you think you deserve to be in this establishment?”

His voice tells me that I am a bug, small and repulsive. Easily crushed.

My fear is irrational; my fear is so irrational.

“I…” My voice breaks again, and I clear it, and his face is practically contorted with disgust, and I want to melt into the floor.

My mother’s words come back to me. Do not fear those who want to be feared. Pity he who is so loveless that he must do so.

I draw myself up, look the man in the eye. “I am confident. I am brave. I am smart.” It is not an answer. It is a chant, a courage mantra. “I can do what you tell me. I can be independent. I am not a worker. I am a guest.” I let out a breath, cross my arms, and glower.

The man strokes his chin villain-style, covering his fingers in color. Then his face splits into an ecstatic grin. “Cool! You’re hired.”

And as I gape, he gets up, walks out of the room, and busies himself with finding a handkerchief to fix his face.

The bitter, coppery tang of blood registered at the back of my throat and I cursed around it, uneven breaths tearing raggedly from my lips. The wound at my temple throbbed, probably crusted with dried scarlet.

I locked my legs back onto the side of the cliff. My palms were slippery with sweat, and I could only hope they remained steadily placed on the rock I was holding onto.

Whatever whim of imagination that had driven me to attempt and conquer Liolen’s Peak, there was no sign of it now, leaving me to face terrifying reality.

Now that I think about it, I was probably the last person anyone would have ever expected in this situation — quiet, five-foot-three Aeria Cedar? The most adventurous part of me was my name, and no-one usually pronounced it right, either.

Dangling over a five-hundred-thousand foot drop and praying to every god I could think of was not a very routine pastime of mine.

Yet here I was.

Slowly, trepidatiously, I dragged my left hand from its handhold and quickly grabbed at another ledge, nails scraping against stone as my fingers settled into place.

My right hand followed. I dragged myself up, blowing scraggly tufts of brown hair out of my face, the scratchy surface reopening the shallow slices on my shoulders.

I guess I just lied to you. Or maybe myself. Possibly both.

I knew exactly why I’d done this, why I’d condemned myself to such a painful death.

I was sick and tired of being that person. You know who I’m talking about.

The kind of girl who wears a formal dress-shirt to work everyday, even though I’m twenty-one and there were older people showing up in short skirts and crop tops. The kind who stays in on weekends, watching Orange Is The New Black on Netflix. The naive, gullible little kid who takes crap from everyone and lets them trample all over her faded brown cardigan.

I wanted to breathe. I wanted to live.

Now, thanks to my idiotic impulses, I was never going to do either of those ever again.

I let out a breath that sounded worryingly like a sob. I was a lawyer. I preferred coolness and white walls and dull gray cubicles. I was not meant for the scorching golden sunshine that was currently roasting the back of my neck.

Adjusting my grip, I swung up a leg. And missed.

“No!”

The other foot slipped out of its tiny alcove, one of my sneakers falling off to disappear into the cloudy brownish-red oblivion below.

My heart raced so fast, it could’ve competed in the Indy 500.

“No!” I shrieked again, and tears poured down my face, startlingly cool. The sound echoed around the inside of the ravine.

I’m going to die. I will die.  

I waited for the sagely serenity, the acceptance of my inevitable demise to wash over me, but only blaring white-hot panic registered. I was trembling so hard I nearly let go of the ridge jutting into my palm, holding me up.

Fear jabbed my stomach, roughened my throat.

“No, no, please!” I yelled hoarsely, practically unhinged.

I wedged a foot back into the cliff, and for a second my heart soared, triumph roaring in my ears.

Then both my hands spasmed. My fingers let go.

I let go.

I let go of the handhold.

Just like I had let go of my worries.

Just like I was now.

Finally, that calmness settled over me. It was like a blanket over a bee; you could still feel the fear buzzing underneath, but I paid it no heed. I tried to dig my calf into the cliff, a last attempt at anchoring myself, but there was no hope, not really.

Dust smoldered inside my nostrils, the acrid scent of the stone growing sweet in my nose as I allowed myself one last deep breath.

Spiral, spiralling, spiralling down. “‘Down the rabbit hole we go,’ said she.”

And then everything went black.