Watermarks The Big Fall by Chris DeMott

It was nine in the morning and already over eighty degrees. Jay was driving us in his sister's car, and Robbie was bouncing around in the back seat like a hyperactive golf ball.

"The current's gonna' be rippin', ya gotta turn your head an' make for the sun," Robbie said, talking loud to be heard over the 8-track.

"Why's that?" I said, tossing a butt out the window and passing the Gallo Hearty Burgundy into the back seat.

"Swim down, ya cut yer hands on the coral; swim sideways, an' ya bash yer head on the wall, goodnight Irene," he added helpfully.

I nodded sagely, and resolved not to drink much more wine. Robbie had procured three bottles of the crap from God knows where. The alcohol was helping my nerves, but I couldn't afford to lose my balance on the beam.

Jay lit another filtered cigar from a gasoline loaded Zippo that burned like a small campfire. "Doan' worry, you'll FIND the surface; important thing is, keep your legs together, toes pointed, and DON'T grab yer nose. Screws up the aerodynamics or sumthin, an' ya hit on yer side at sixty miles per; that ain't pretty man."

"Cool," I said. "Got it."

Jay was chain-smoking, his hands tight on the wheel. Robbie was chattering endlessly, and he was even more twitchy than usual. I realized that they were just as nervous as I was, even though they must have done this a dozen times. It was a sunny Saturday, and I was heading for the ocean with my two best friends; life was good, but I had a small, cold piece of fear in my stomach that felt like a very heavy ball bearing.

We pulled into the parking lot at nine-thirty. Bahia Honda state park wasn't crowded; it seldom was in the summer. We stashed wallets, wine, and sandals under the seats. It was summer time in the Florida Keys, and when I looked out the window; the pavement was so hot that the tar looked wet. It didn't matter; I could not wear shoes because there was no place to leave them. I stepped out onto the lot and hoped my feet wouldn't blister.

The important thing now was not to show any discomfort, be casual. We walked towards the beach with a gait that was both nonchalant and amazingly rapid. Jay somehow seemed to keep both feet off the ground for a fraction of a second with every step. After a short eternity, I saw the cool, green grass just ahead. I looked up; both the guys were ahead of me, so I cleared the last few feet with a mighty one-footed hop. If my right foot had touched down one more time, it would have melted. I had to struggle consciously not to moan with relief when my feet hit the glorious grass.

"You guys want to make TWO jumps today?," Jay asked us, walking backwards to make eye contact. "That way, Chris can make a, like, PRACTICE jump with us off the under carriage, before we do the big fall."

Robbie paled visibly, then nodded rapidly. "We gotta lotta time; we could do three jumps if you all wanna," he said loudly, not wanting to be outdone.

Jay frowned, then replied, "Can't do THREE, cops always show up after two."

I felt somehow grateful to the police, reassured that they would keep me from having too much fun today.

It was ten o'clock when the old bridge came into view. The first Bahia Honda Bridge had been built in 1920 and condemned by the Department of Transportation in 1960; the bridge was dead before I was born. Once, the bridge had been painted white; now it was reddish brown, the color of forgotten steel; even the concrete pilings looked rusted.

"It's best to walk up the seawall," Jay said. "The grass up there is full of sandspurs, and ya can't walk on the wood, on account of the scorpions."

I looked up at the steep, narrow, and very high arc of the seawall. "All this and scorpions too!," I said. "You guys were right; this is the best beach."

We started up the seawall, arms extended like tightrope walkers. I looked down after every few feet at the clear green water getting farther and farther away. I was trying to convince myself that thirty-five feet really wasn't all that high; after all, I had dove from a ten-foot board. This was just three and a half times higher, not that much, really.

Suddenly, Robbie sprang down to the ground and got down on his hands and knees, examining something intently.

"JEEZUS, Robbie! It's a crab hole!" Jay yelled, annoyed at the delay. "You ever seen one before, like every three feet, EVERYWHERE on the island?"

Robbie stood up with an injured expression. "I found a wallet stashed in one once." He added, "It had ten bucks in it."

I sat down on the seawall to help him climb back up, resisting the temptation to ask him what he did with it. Robbie was a loyal friend, but he had no regard whatsoever for strangers. I dragged him back up to the top, and he stood up and brushed off. There was a nasty cut under his left knee, bleeding slowly but steadily. He pretended not to notice it, of course. Blood in the water, beautiful, this day just kept getting better. I resolved to jump first; it was always better to be upstream from anything that might attract a hammerhead.

We made our way slowly up the seawall; after a few more feet, I looked over the side. The water looked gray and threatening--funny how fear and altitude makes things look different.

Jay reached the top first. There was a chain link fence extending over the concrete we were climbing. It had been installed in a vain attempt to keep people like us from doing what we were about to do. Jay grabbed the outside edge of the fence and swung around to the other side. The metal made an ominous sound, the same sound the Six-Million-Dollar-Man made on TV when he ripped a car door off. Although Jay was much taller than I, almost six-five, I was acutely aware that I was considerably heavier than he was. I wondered what the heaviest person weighed who ever swung around that fence. Robbie went next. His lighter weight didn't make the fence groan, and then it was my turn. Careful not to look down, I grabbed the fence with my right hand, my sweating fingers extended like claws. I made sure my right foot was exactly in the middle of the suddenly slippery concrete, and swung out over empty space. The fence seemed to stretch in my hand, and for one terrifying moment I thought I would swig back. Then I was on the other side, forty feet above the rushing water.

Jay and Robbie were looking back at me, grinning.

"Almost there, dude," Robbie said.

"You made it this far, you GOTTA jump," Jay added.

Robbie danced nimbly out on the I-beam; I knew it was six inches wide, but it looked thin as a wire. Were my hands shaking? I couldn't let it show. Willing my hands still, I slowly edged out over the void until I was two paces away from Robbie. When I looked back, Jay was already in position, two paces to my left. I stopped trying to keep my hands steady.

Against my will, I glanced down. The ocean was far away and seemed to be moving impossibly fast. I couldn't do it; I would wait for the guys to jump, and then climb back around the fence to make the long, shameful walk back down to the beach. I took two slow deep breaths; I would just tell the guys I'd do it next time.

"As soon as your head comes up, swim for the beach FAST," Jay said. "You have to MOVE so the current doesn't take you out. You can do it, you swim as good as me."

"And if ya don't, we'll steal a boat, an' pick yer ass up in Bermuda!" Robbie added, and then he was gone, streaking downwards like an arrow. He slid into the water with barely a splash, and a second later was swimming powerfully across the current.

So much for my being upstream of the blood. I knew then I had to do it. I looked over at Jay, hoping for some encouragement, but he just grinned back at me. I took a deep breath, and the ball bearing in my stomach gained two pounds. I jumped, pressed my legs together, and pointed my toes. I had my arms extended like Paul Newman in the Butch Cassidy movie. I forced my hands down, resisting an impulse to hold my nose and "screw up the aerodynamics."

One exhilarating second of freefall, and the water slapped me like a giant hand. I seemed to go impossibly deep, and I had no idea which direction the surface was. I forced my eyes open against the stinging salt water, and swam towards the light. When I broke the surface and gasped for breath, the current was sweeping me out into the Atlantic; now that the jump was over, I had time to be afraid that I wouldn't make the beach.

I swam as fast as I could, straining to get enough air, and in a few seconds I felt sand under my hands. I walked slowly up onto the beach, cold and shaking. I could hear Jay laughing just behind me.

"Now that was no big deal, was it?" Robbie said, laughing.

"Nope, that was nothing," I replied.