Proof of Life (old news for most)

There's this foot bridge in Maui, narrow enough for a couple people to walk across, high enough that I'm sure any sober person over the age of 25 wouldn't look over it and think, "hmm it would be fun to jump off this bridge." Under the bridge flows a small stream, it's hard to tell how deep it is but the sides of the stream are lined with gigantic boulders, they look like the type of boulders that would only sit next to a really deep pool of water. At the other end of the bridge is a forest of bamboo with a trail cutting through it that leads to your intended destination, a set of "sacred" pools.

You brought a couple of Friends. You look at Jason, you can tell he's thinking about the bridge too, you can see it by how he grips the railing, rolling his fingers across, white knuckled. Greg watches the two of you; he has no interest in the bridge; you are his sole interest.

It's been a good trip. Good food, good friends, wandering through mountains, shooting goats with the locals, not a worry in the world (except that girl back home who you just can't convince to love you). The air is perfect now, warm without a breeze, the guide book said the sacred pools are worth the three hour drive around the volcanic island and the hour hike, but there's this bridge.

"I'm going to do it."

No one believes you of course.

"It's probably eighty feet down."

"Fuck it. I'm doing it."

"Alright."

Greg heads to the end of the bridge then scampers down the bank to those large boulders. He peers into the water looking for any obvious dangers. He can't see any, shrugs a little then looks back up at you and the bridge. Before Greg headed off the bridge you handed him your stuff, stuff you didn't want to get wet, Jason does the same so you know he'll be following you.

Climbing over the railing you feel your heart. You think of Tori Amos, there's a bowling ball in my stomach and desert in my mouth. You think of that girl back home, this feels like kissing her for the first time. And the second first time. You hope the third first time will feel this way too (please lord let there be a third first time).

You don't do stupid shit. Risk taking is not your forte. You shouldn't be out on the edge of this bridge. You should be down there with Greg watching someone else jump off this bridge. You should be walking to the sacred pools, you hear it's amazing there. Why are you on this bridge?

"You gonna do it?"

"Yeah, of course."

You let go of the railing. Float there for a second. The sun is still shining, the air is still warm. Then there is wind, nothing but wind, and that helpless sense of falling. It lasts longer than you think it should, but you can't look down to see how far you still have to go. Maybe it never stops.

Splash.

You break a flip-flop, but swim out unharmed, but never the same. You lie on the rock next to Greg. "Shit. Shit. Shit." He laughs, gives your hair a little ruffling.

"You screamed the whole way down."

All you could hear was the wind.

Jason comes down like a torpedo. You're almost convinced the bridge must have gotten lower after you jumped, he wasn't in the air nearly as long.








Years later you marry that girl from back home. And a couple years after that you take her to Maui and show her that bridge. You tell her it's worth the three hour drive around the volcano and the hour hike. You stand on the bridge together. You're convinced you must have been insane to have stepped off it--she agrees. But damn it was worth it, being here with her, pointing over the edge.












Due Date July 30th. Baby Girl.