Page 114 of Free Fall

Mamaaaaa! He’s doing it again!

The memory rises unbidden, along with a flipbook of terrible recollections from each foster home I hit along the way to adulthood. I spit and spit, unable to get the grit out of my mouth or to open my eyes. I breathe in and out, feeling streaming tears wash the dirt from my eyes. Fear knots in my chest.

The beautiful, singular focus has slipped away from me. I have to get it back. But I can still hear that brat screaming in my brain.

Mamaaaaa! He’s doing it again! Mamaaaaa!

I take deep breaths, shake my head slowly. This isn’t the time. I’m safe. I’m on the wall. I almost laugh. Safe? Free soloing thousands of feet up, getting ready to tackle the roof of the Heart Formation? Hilarious.

I’m absolutely fucking hilarious.

I feel the edges of my peace unravelling. I can’t open my eyes, and even if I could, I can’t move forward with this mindset. I have to get my head back together.

I blink, relieved when the dirt or dust seems to have slipped from my eyes with the tears. I can see, and what I see is good news. I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I know the next moves like the back of my hand.

Now I just have to make them.

So, I do.

As I move toward the second crux of the ascent, I can’t seem to shake the disturbance from the small rockfall. My toeholds feel tenuous, the finger grips that I’ve trained on seem smaller. Even the light seems sharper, bouncing off the granite,making my tender eyes ache. Worse, the telltale throbbing in my forearms and fingers tells me I’m getting pumped.

Quickly, I find a familiar nub and a foothold that look secure enough to rest on so I can switch out hands to shake my arms one at a time, trying to free up the lactic acid.

Heart pounding, eyes still tearing, I gaze out at the exposure. It’s peaceful and quiet down there. The world’s oblivious to my frantic pulse and the sharpness of my fear.

The meadow stretches out all misty and beautiful, the frost shimmering in the morning light. The river sparkles in a familiar ribbon, and the falls roar with their usual white noise that always accompanies my climbs. I take more slow breaths. I try to pull the meadow into me. I need peace. Focus. Peace.

Mamaaaaa! He’s doing it again!

I shake my head. I try to think of something calming, something to ground me.

Sejin.

I exhale slowly. The way his black lashes touch his cheekbones in his sleep. How his eyes hook down at the inner edges. The shape of his mouth when a smile is about to break over his face. That smile.

Thesmile.

I breathe in deeply.

The smile that captured my attention in that photo on that stupid app and which I’ve now seen directed at me,becauseof me, a total of thirteen times. I’ve counted. Each one is an achievement. Each one is cherished.

As I take more breaths, I think of the lesser smiles too. The ones that are rewarding, yes, but always show that he’s holding something back—a thought, a fear, a sadness. I hate when he’s sad. And if I fall, he’ll be devastated.

I squeeze my eyes closed. No, damnit, I shouldn’t be thinking of this now. But suddenly I am. I’m thinking of what happens if Ican’t shake this lactic acid out, if my hands won’t hold on, if they let go. I think about the moment of falling itself. The horror of the descent through the air. The bone-shattering crash into rock. I’ve imagined all that a million times before, but now I know the worst is what happens afterward.

Sejin’s smile…that beautiful, gorgeous, hard-won smile that I’ve wanted so selfishly, and chased so passionately these last months, will be gone. How long will it be before anyone sees it again? Before he feels joy enough for it to bloom on his face? I can’t kid myself that he won’t be destroyed if I fail at this. I can’t lie to myself and say it won’t matter.

I shake out my arms one by one again. Another little fall of rock comes down from above, but this time none of them hit me. I can only think a large bird or small animal is doing it.

On the wall without ropes is no place to rest. I can’t justhanghere. I have to move forward, and once I do, I’m re-committing to this climb. I have no choice but to move from this spot, to carry on. This is it. I’m alone on this wall, and there’s no one to call for help who could ever come fast enough.

I must go on. A downclimb is riskier than an up climb. And that fucking roof looms ahead. But it’s okay. I can adjust my trajectory, I’ll move over to my old route, keep that safety ledge beneath me. I should have downclimbed to rest on it like Rye wanted. I should have—

I stop myself.

Should haves are for losers who end up smears on the ground. I’m not a smear. I’m still alive, still moving forward, and Sejin’s smile depends on me making it up the rest of this pitch, over the roof, and up over the lip. I surge forward, moving up as quickly as I can. My hands are still feeling pumped. My forearms throb. My calves ache.

Gritting my teeth, I command my body to obey me. I’ve got this. I’ve trained. I’ve worked hard. I won’t be afraid. I won’t.