Dry Shoes

My foot slips off the log and I hesitantly look down to see which one.
I am off balance and shaking like crazy.  "Go get help"  I calmly cry out, hoping my quieting voice tempers my footing which is 20 feet above the creek below.

At first I panicked and screamed "GET MOM!", and to think just minutes before my feet had confidence when they decided to cross the higher log.

The first steps were easy as I began my crossing.  I can do this.  The other kids would never attempt this, opting for the regular route just steps away.  Slipping off the regular log just gets you a few bumps and bruises, possibly wet runners, but slipping off the higher log you surely will die.  And this is what I am thinking as I stand dead still in the middle of it, untouched and untravelled, as I suddenly discover.

My feet death grip the rotten pine that has toppled and landed in the middle of the ravine, suspended only by dead roots on one side and languished tree tops on the other.  In between a worn and smooth pathway has been gilded by seasons, allowing my renegade foot to firmly reattach itself to it's spine.

Most of the other kids have run off, leaving me stranded and the contest winner.  My sister, at first, teases me to get a move on, but I can't.  I drop my eyes briefly towards the depth, but my knees remain locked, my arms waver and flop in the air as if conducting orchestra, trying to maintain harmony and even calm.

I am alone and the wind is heavier in the emptiness.  I feel it's weight bending me.  Pushing me.   The sunlight is also being pushed away into shadows of tree trunks and caverns combining into one big patch of black.  I twist my head and my sister has now straddled the log and is shimmering herself towards the sunset, towards me.

Richard's mom is calling him in for dinner.  Their backyard is close to the ravine and I can smell what they're having.  Corinne inches her way closer to me, yelling "SIT DOWN.  SIT DOWN".  I am frozen stiff and can't move a muscle.  All around me is lush evergreen.  And bacon.  She is telling me to sit my bum down and bump my way backwards to the edge.  "I will be right here", she promises.

I close my eyes, realizing no one, not even my sister,  has run off to get my mom.  I keep my eyes shut and can hear the creek below.  I actually believe I can hear salmon spawning and currents jostling amongst the boulders for the best path to the river.  Then I heard the river burst into the ocean, then the ocean burst into the horizon fading away.

My eyes opened just long enough to fall down.

We shimmied our way back to the edge, together.  It's dark now and we're late and will probably be "grounded" for a week with no T.V.   At least, Corinne concludes, our shoes are dry.