Part I The day was still, not a cloud in sight. The glowing sun lit the tumbling
waves. The white foam smeared along the sandy beach. High above the ocean’s
front lie cliffs with grassy hilltops. A road wove through its tangled mess.
There thoughts were bound and passion ran free. The young man gripped his
steering wheel and held the throttle. He flew through Highway 5 in his ‘78
Camero. Squealing around every corner in his hot convertible, he let his long
blond hair blow with the wind. As his heart beat fast, he was trapped in the
excitement of the moment. He braked; his open expression went blank. The passion
was gone as he slowed inches from the motor homes tail gate. The RV crept around
each corner, passing turnout after turnout, seemingly unaware of the car behind.
His face went sour as he mumbled curse words and thoughts of ill intention. The
young man gave a slight honk, but only slight, just enough to give notice of his
presence. He wanted to honk louder, but he was taught better. The man was out of
patience as he came to small straight in the road. He turned the wheel left
crossing the double yellow line. Just in view from the corner came a oncoming
semi. He stepped on the gas feeling confident that he could make it. As he
pulled by the RV’s side, the motor home sped up too. The fiery red Camero
roared up the hill; its eight cylinders of pure power revved and its 450 horses
beat as it raced past the RV. The blond man pulled off quickly just missing
getting smashed by the big rig, and nearly clipping the Motor home’s front.
The young man stuck out his hand just yearning to flip off the driver of the
passed vehicle. He couldn’t do it. Years of being nice were engraved in head.
Thoughts of lessons taught by his mother and grandmother circled through his
mind. As he stuck his hand back on the wheel he blurred out thoughts of anger.
It was obvious he wanted to let it out, so he floored his Chevy, breezing away
from the coast. As the Camero climbed toward the heart of the redwoods, the
young man looked with flare. He traveled up the bare twisted road of Highway 5.
Its edges seemed to crumble dangerously as he pulled around the sharp
switchbacks. The young man pulled his Camero into the check-in gate. He held his
elbow against the red door and rested his head against his hand, palming his
cheek. As he waited to be helped he looked at the scenery. The redwoods lay
thick, with huge stems blossoming a cluster of green. A sign posted to one
spelled Richardson Grove 1876. “Yes. your name please?” The woman sat in a
little house with a small teller like window. She wore greyish green clothes. A
tag placed by the shirt collar read “Anne Vansykln, Richardson Grove.”
“Olin Hill,” he said, as he gazed toward the redwoods. He was still stuck in
the thinkers pose. He didn’t even look at her exquisite looks. “Pretty
aren’t they?” She said as she smacked her chewing gum with her slender
tongue. The look she gave was not classy by any means, yet it was resoundingly
sweet: childish like an ‘imperfect-perfect’. Yet Olin did not reply, he just
sat in his pose. Then she said you may go. Olin stepped on the gas and relaxed
his pose. He gazed at his reflection in the rear view mirror. Where his hand had
rested (upon his cheek) a beat red pimple gouged in his face. Olin parked his
car in front of a huge redwood tree. A young man with black hair peered around
its massive base. “Nice rig,” he yelled as he stuck his hand out, asking him
to stop. Olin shut the engine down and stood on the white leather bucket seat.
He peered over the front window, “Whats happening Justin?”Olin said,
“where is your car?” Justin smiled his crooked teeth, ”Oh it’s the brown
sedan over there. A piece a *censored* car.” Olin took a small rubber band out
of his pocket and tied his long hair into a pony tail. “Where is everyone,”
he said as he flung the clinging lint from his short pockets off his hand.
“Everyones at the beach. Your brother and dad are down there too. Justin said
pointing down past north end of the parking lot. “Lets go down. I can unload
my *censored* latter.” They walked down the steep path, that wove through the
thorny blackberry bush’s. They stood on the river’s beach. People sprawled
across its sandy surface. Water toys submerged in the water; children trounced
their flippers through the water; they played with water guns, and floated on
their tubes. Dogs played fetch with their masters. Some grownups swam, others
seemed entranced in their sun bathing. As they neared the crowd Justin pointed
to the top of a huge rock. It was enormous in size with a clear cut vertical
drop. “See that,” he said, “ They call that black rock. I saw someone jump
from it. Crazy ha?” Olin looked at the rock, it looked like a rush. After I
say hi to everyone, lets do it, man! He said ecstatic at the thrill. “No, I
ain’t doing it.” Justin said, “It must be a hundred feet.” “I’ll
talk to you after, I have not given up on you!” Olin said loudly as broke out
of reach from the conversation. “Hey dad!” he yelled, as he softly threw a
quarter at the bald mans stomach The bald man peered from beneath his book. He
pulled up his Ray Ban sunglasses and looked at the shiny quarter that lay on his
sun beaten stomach. Then he brushed the quarter off his body and looked to the
young man, “what’s happening Olin; glad you could make it.” Olin grinned
as he tore off his tie dye shirt. He tossed it to ground. The shirt lay on the
hot sand wrinkled, yet the words ‘NO FEAR’ were plainly visible. “You go
in.” he said, looking at the cool refreshing water. “Sure I went in.” The
man said as he lay back down, and placed his book back into reading position.
“Hey Olin,” a voice said coming from the water. Olin looked toward the
teenage boy that trotting out from the water. His skin was pale and soft. He
wore blue Addias shorts that pulled over his knees. “Nice shorts ass hole,”
Olin said The boy grabbed the towl and rubbed it over his buzzed hair. “I
didn’t think you’ll mind,” the boy said as his grin grew to his ears.
“It’s OK bro, but next time ask.” “I will I promise” Olin smiled and
said sarcastically, Yea right, Jonas.” Jonas wrapped the blue Hawaiian towel
around his waist and sat in the sand. “Did you see that goodlookinggirl
atthegate.” “What Jonas? You’re going to have to speak a little slower”
“Sure did Justin said from behind fixing his black hair with a part to the
side. “I am going to get me a peace of that,” he boasted smiling crooked
teeth. You should goforher.” Jonas said, as he shivered from the cold breeze,
that just swept in. Olin nodded his head “yea maybe” he said frowning
irritably at his brothers speech impediments. Olin then looked at the rock; a
smile came on his face. “Hey Justin let’s Jump.” Justin laughed. “No man
if you are doing it, you’re doing it alone.” “Well if a man gotta be
man,” Olin said as he slowly eased toward the water, hoping he would bait
Justin into coming. Finally realizing he was going to have to do it alone, he
dove into the water. He bravely swam toward the towering rock. He sat on the
east corner, the only climbable part. He briskly ascended up the rock. No terror
entered his mind. Standing at the top, fearless he was. He began to count to
three. One: he crouched down, rearing to go. Two: he looked down, preparing his
mind to go. Three: He just stood there; fear had seeped in. He looked at the
towering cliff, one hundred feet up; its jagged edges waiting to pierce him if
he missed. From below voices chanted his name. Every one was watching. He had no
choice but to go. He closed his eyes and jumped. Splash his feet slapped against
the water callousing them with war marks. He looked behind; inches he lay from
the rock’s rugged base. It was close but it was done and he was the man.
“Hey Jonas!” He yelled from the water. “Next I am going to do it at night.
Part II The wind blew hard. The rye grass rattled through the air. It was still
green from the wet spring, not yet showing the signs of summer. Olin lay
submerged in the thick grass. He was still, like a hunting tiger. He looked down
toward the almost barren river. Only Anne rested there. Her eyes looked bright,
glee with the tune of summer. Her long hair gently blew over her face. The
woman’s sleek fingers softly pulled her hair back, showing her lips.
Beautiful; stunning; breath taking; they were covered magnificently with no
untruthful colors. He wanted to get up, and ask her out, or at least ask her
something, but he felt his cheek. It hugely stood out. The zit bulged with its
*censored* tip just waiting to burst. She rose from her restful position. Her
slender body was noticeably fine as she walked the sandy shoreline. Her walk was
peculiar as she strutted her stuff. Scrapping her feet, she left her path
behind. Oh did he yearn to follow, but he just sat there praying for courage.
The beautiful woman stopped for a second; snared her petite nose; stared her
deep green eyes past the dusk of dark. She looked at the brown object that lay
on the other side of the river. This was his last chance. He felt the crust of
his zit. He new he could not do it as he watched her run. She trounced through
the water soaking the base of her ranger shorts. Reckless she seemed but truly
she was free. She burst across the river and began a slow jog up the meadowy
hillside. She opened the passenger door to the brown sedan. The engine roared as
she stepped inside. A cloud of dust was left in her place. Justin had won. Only
fragments of driftwood and clusters of rocks lay on the sand. Only her foot
prints gave him thoughts of what could of been. If only it had been simple, and
he used his emotions instead of his thoughts. The young man slowly wandered back
through the dusk. He saw a crowd toward black rock. The hovered mass sprawled
together shining their flash lights. He curiously walked toward the crowd. The
people seemed excited in emotion as loud voices came from within. “Olin,”
someone said, “its your brother,” As she neared her face was bleak, almost
sad. “What is it,” Olin said. As they stood face to face. He could see tears
streaming from the woman’s eyes. Her arms shook as she tried to place a caring
arm upon his shoulder. “What’s, what wrong” he stuttered. His lips
tightened. He pulled his hands over his eyes, rubbing them hard. The woman did
not answer; she just stood there melancholia. Olin brushed the woman’s arm off
his shoulder and ran toward the crowd. Jonas lay motionless on the sand, moving
only his blood shot eyes. His pale skin now showed almost no color. His lips
were blue: blue like his eyes. His shorts were ripped dangling down his calf.
Blood came from his waist staining the Addias’ symbol. Olin’s mouth went
dry, “Why did you jump?” His atom apple clogged his throat. “Why?” His
eyes clouded with tears. “Why can’t you think instead of going by your
passion?” Olin cried as he knelt down over the boy’s body, “Why Jonas?”