Chapter 3
392 Words
Chapter 3There was an evening, in early June, when I asked Jay to join me in the woods. At the end of the long waterfall, our own private “hideaway,” in a splotch of hot sun, atop a steep hill next to a panel of ancient rocks.
Up here time was limitless, like a trip to the moon, across many galaxies.
The rocks were said to have healing powers, according to local lore. I didn’t believe a word of it, but whenever I came here, I felt changed, charged, content.
Especially after fleeing from the unending weight of my parents. My heart felt leaden when I breathed under their roof.
When Jay was in eyeshot, life was brighter, happier, and more meaningful; he made me want to soldier on, work harder, be better, aim higher.
His dry wit, jocular-joshing smile, and the raw, resilient energy he radiated, challenged me. I was freer, uninhibited like a bird soaring up, up. Up.
Calmer, I could think clearly.
The rushing-roaring force of the waterfall drowned out my fear of heights, falling. The loud bickering voices of my parents in my head dissolved. The hissing catcalls of my one-night stands, jeering and judging, receded, blew out into the cascades, like an echo of a church bell rattling, growing weaker, eventually fading.
Departing, vanishing.
Then I saw Jay climbing the narrow, wooden stairs at the edge of the chasm, waving up at me. A baseball cap pulled over his eyes, face shrouded with shades of a parting light. My heart pounded at his presence, that infectious smile, his high, heightened wave. The bounding spirit in his gait, two steps at a time.
A lively jolt of energy pulsed through me.
As he ambled toward me, I felt the tightness of my shoulders start to soften, ease, mold into a relaxed posture.
He sat next to me, slapped me on the shoulder.
A large rock carved out for two, Rocco and I stared out at the gushing cascade of water below us, the sound deafening and therapeutic.
We sat there for the last hour of daylight. Listening. Observing. Reflecting. Allowing the week’s stresses to evaporate like yesterday’s thoughts. Occasionally, we’d glimpse each other’s wandering gaze or reassuring smile.
Rocco slipped his fingers through mine, his skin smooth and soothing, satisfying to the touch. I closed my eyes to the confetti beads of water spraying us in the face.
Let everything go.
A pleasurable ache consumed me.
- Writer
