Fiction · Orcas Island
By the time they reached the far side of Cascade Lake, Dean and Shay had planned enough adventures to fill three lifetimes and require a considerable amount of borrowed money.
They would kayak to Alaska. Ride motorcycles across Patagonia. Climb something in Nepal whose name neither of them could remember.
“Nothing with fixed ropes,” Dean said.
“Obviously,” Shay said. He had no idea what fixed ropes were.
The trail wound through cedar and fir, the lake flashing between the trunks. Their boots raised small puffs of dust.
“We should learn to sail, too,” Shay said.
“How hard can it be?”
“Exactly.”
They had been friends since fourth grade, and How hard can it be? had already cost them a bicycle, a security deposit, and most of one eyebrow.
When they reached the cliff, Dean walked straight to the edge.
“There she is.”
The drop was a little over fifty feet. On the trail, fifty feet had been a number. At the edge, it was an argument, and every part of Shay’s body had taken the other side.
The lake lay dark green below. A twig floated near the rocks, so small it was nearly invisible, and gave the whole scene an unwelcome sense of scale.
Dean kicked off his shoes.
Shay stayed where he was.
“What?” Dean asked.
“There’s something I should probably mention.”
“You can swim.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen you swim.”
“It’s not the swimming.”
Dean waited.
“I’m afraid of heights,” Shay said.
For a moment there was only the wind moving through the trees.
Then Dean laughed.
“You were just talking about Nepal.”
“I was planning to work up to it.”
“You want to climb a mountain.”
“Mountains have a lot more ground attached to them.”
Dean laughed harder, then held up a hand.
“Okay. Listen. It’s not the height you should be afraid of. Flying through the air never hurt anybody. It’s hitting the water.”
Shay stared at him.
Dean nodded, pleased with the distinction.
“Was that supposed to help?”
“A little.”
“You took one fear and gave it a destination.”
“I’m just saying, the falling part is probably nice.”
“Probably?”
But Dean was already moving. One moment he stood outlined against the lake and the trees beyond it, and the next he was gone.
A whoop. Then the flat smack of water.
He surfaced with a noise somewhere between a laugh and a complaint.
“Well?” Shay called.
Dean wiped his face.
“Definitely felt that in my feet.”
“Great. Wonderful. Very persuasive.”
Shay took off his shoes. He stood looking down for so long that he started noticing individual ants on the rock beside him. They all seemed to have sensible plans for the afternoon.
He could still walk back. Dean would tease him for a week, and then it would become one more story, like the eyebrow.
He jumped before he could start negotiating.
His stomach stayed on the cliff. A shout came out of him that he would later deny making.
Then there was air, an astonishing amount of it, and a brief, wild moment in which Dean was completely right.
Then his feet hit.
Pain cracked across both soles, sharp enough to wipe every other thought from his head. The lake closed over him, cold and green and suddenly quiet.
He came up gasping.
Dean was laughing.
Shay pointed at him. “That,” he managed, “was a terrible pep talk.”
“Falling part was good, though.”
Shay tried to answer, but he was laughing too.
They swam for shore. Every kick reminded Shay of his feet. He rolled onto his back and looked up at the cliff. From down here it seemed impossible that they had been standing on top of it a minute ago.
Halfway to shore, he said, “I want to do it again.”
Dean turned his head. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“What about being afraid of heights?”
Shay looked up again. His stomach tightened. That part hadn’t gone anywhere.
But now he had something to set against it: the rush of air, the helpless shout, the strange delight of being committed to something he could no longer take back. They had spent all afternoon planning adventures. This was the first one they had actually had.
The height had turned out to be the easy part.
He flexed his aching toes beneath the water.
“Still afraid,” he said. “It just has somewhere to go now.”
Dean grinned and kicked toward the shore. “Nepal, then.”
Shay’s feet throbbed. The cliff waited above them.
“How hard can it be?”