It seemed like a lifetime ago. Four years. Plenty of time for friends to move across the continent, for careers to sharpen into focus, and for youth to yield to wisdom. The memory of that fateful day on the river had been worn down into an inconspicuous nub, much like a rock eroded by the merciless pounding of whitewater currents. But some memories never fade completely.
The cool ocean breeze comforted him. The presence of the ocean was a balm to old wounds. Whenever his mind wandered back towards that fateful day, he thought of the blue Pacific and its calm waters. No storms roiled his senses, not in this corner of the world. But on the rare occasions that hard rain fell from the sky, he made sure to avoid all bodies of water. Thankfully today was another bright sunny day.
A fantastic tale of riverine adventure. A lazy drift down subdued waters abruptly interrupted by an apocalyptic tempest. A boy and his pals on a careless weekend jaunt caught off guard by the storm of the century - one minute lolling in dead water, the next being tossed to all corners of the seven seas. These were stories that belonged in a children's book, he told himself. These kinds of stories were boxed away and stored in a musty corner of the basement in his childhood home, next to Huckleberry Finn and Ralph and the Motorcycle.
In an instant, the sun was extinguished. The dragonflies and lightning bugs, pleasant adornments of an idyllic summer afternoon just a moment ago, now seemed like menacing harbingers of the furious wrath of Poseidon. With a terrifying roar the heavens opened their ponderous gates. Screams pierced the wind-whipped air as panicked kayakers paddled desperately towards shore. Angry rain shelled the hapless adventurers while bowel-shaking thunder blasted and shook their plastic yellow vessels. It was as if the atmosphere had been invaded by malevolent alien electrical entities and earth was fighting back with all the elements it could throw at the sky. The churning water turned blood red, and the wails grew more distant. He looked around frantically for any signs of his companions. At the far end of the horizon, he saw Naz sinking into the depths with paddles flailing, and then he was gone. At the other end he saw Jon battling frantically against the current to save Andy, until both were swallowed up by the watery demons. He drew in a last breath before surrendering to the storm.
He woke up covered in sweat. It had been four years. Not long enough.
Happy 7/20!
