The most amazing thing!
Friday morning, first week of the new semester, Brian and Trevor drove the extra mile to their favorite mountain running trail. At six-thirty thick mist saturated the air. Brian parked and opened the car door.
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When he stepped on the ground, the ball of his foot pushed hard. And that torpedoed him up, like a diver bursting to the surface. No longer underwater, no longer holding his breath, eyes shut, he spun from the waist up as if shaking off a million droplets. His eyes opened to blinding sun and his mouth gulped pure oxygen.
As the sensation faded, Brian laughed, still shaking his head one way and then the other, shedding worry that dissolved in the mist. Anxiety evaporated. No need to hold his breath the way he always had.
Trevor, meanwhile, got out on the passenger side.
Sauntering around the car, he sang: “One of my good friend said, in a reggae riddim, Don’t jump in the water, if you can’t swim.”
Brian swung his arms, bent backwards, and rolled his eyes: so thoroughly amazed. “Wha’ ppun key?” Trevor asked.
Brian laughed trying to explain the unbound joy and freedom he had always known existed but could never see or feel before. He had always tried so hard not to worry. And now, fear and foreboding had vanished. He couldn’t worry if he tried.
“Ya see?” Trevor grinned. “Jah know.”
Starting on the trail, Brian sprinted on an exultant trajectory. Naturally, Trevor ran in sync. “Irie, Brian.”
At the trestle bridge they had no choice but to proceed single file. Brian led this time. Usually, Trevor went first and leaned over the dizzying crevasse until Brian yanked him away from the rotting railing.
This morning Brian ran ahead without looking back, and heard Trevor’s steps bounce a clear beat after his own. Then they ran together until the crest. Where Trevor said, “You go ahead, Bri. I-and-I gotta check something in the woods. See ya at the car.”
It didn’t occur to Brian to ask Trevor what was in the woods. Let alone warn him to be careful.
Finished running, Brian flexed and cooled off. He walked a while and then sat on a tree stump and took in the day: the ground and trees; the chilly air, which had turned transparent; the opaque gray sky; all the surrounding sounds and incrementally changing shapes and colors. At some point he discovered he was no longer worried about Hailey either.
He never should have been. She gave him profound happiness and gentle understanding. Her beauty hypnotized him but their dreams remained distinct, alike but different.
When Trevor finally appeared, he had lost a shoe. Caked with mud, he limped and zigzagged, avoiding rocks and roots. His shirt was ripped, the front stripped from the sleeves. Even at a distance, Brian noticed gouges on his chest. Stepping beside him, Brian saw that Trevor’s chest and face were scratched deeply. Brian laid Trevor’s arm across his shoulders, relieving weight from his brother’s injured, shoeless foot.
“Just a little cuss-cuss,” Trevor said, “with this crazed animal spirit hiding in the woods.”
Brian nodded without question. By now he fully trusted Trevor.
“Gonna tame that one. You’ll see.” Seemingly free of pain now that Brian was helping him, Trevor patted Brian’s shoulder. The brothers slowed down to look at each other. Trevor radiated the happy certainty of a champion who had lost a game while getting to know his opponent better. Rest assured, next time he’d win.
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