Page 66 of Free Fall
“It could be sadder. It could be a horrible thing that lives on in memory. Those are the saddest things of all.”
Sejin’s wistful smile fades away entirely, and I want to take my words back. I’ve ruined the moment.
“I mean, at least the beautiful thing happened at all,” I murmur.
Sejin clears his throat and starts to turn away.
I grab his arm. “Listen, I didn’t make a lot of memories growing up that I want to hold on to, so—for me—the idea of something beautiful living on in your mind is really nice, but I don’t have a lot of personal experience with it.”
“Ah.”
“I’m sorry. I think I said something wrong.”
He shakes his head. “No. You’re right. I was thinking of my mom, and losing her never stops feeling sad, despite all my wonderful memories. But maybe I’m doing her a disservice feeling that way. Maybe I should be more like you—glad that I have beautiful memories to cherish.”
“I had a Jewish…” I stop before I say the word friend, because he’d been a fellow newbie climber that Peggy Jo had taken on for about five weeks six years ago, and I’d met him a few times. Is that an acquaintance? Probably. “I knew a Jewish guy, and he used to say ‘may her memory be a blessing’ when someone died. I mean, that’s what he said when Peggy Jo’s mom died, but it seemed like something he said regularly in death situations…”
Sejin snorts. “‘Death situations.’ Oh, Dan. You’re a mess.”
“I like that, though. Memories as a blessing. Believe me, when you’ve got a lot of bad memories, the idea of a memory being a blessing and not a curse is really nice.”
“I bet it is, and you’re right. My mom’s memory is an incredible blessing in my life.”
“She’d want you to think about it that way,” I say, which might be overstepping, but I feel a certainty of it, deep down in my soul. “She’d want you to remember her with joy.”
“You are so weird,” Sejin says, after a few moments of pondering the sunrise. Then he adds, “I’m sorry you don’t have a lot of good memories.”
I touch his cheek. “Here. Now. This will be a good memory.”
Truth be told, I’ve made a lot of good memories in recent years, even if I haven’t, until this moment, thought of what I’ve been doing in quite that way. I’ve always used other words for it: living in the moment, living fully, enjoying the now. But, here with Sejin, I see it for what it is. I’ve been creating a nice buffer of good memories to protect against all the bad in my past. All my focus on thenowis one more giant step away from the darkness ofthen.
Even the suffering I put myself through while climbing ismysuffering, chosen by me and me alone. The wall I’ve chosen. The route I’ve chosen. The risks I’ve chosen. All are protections against my ugly past, devoid of choice, devoid of victory. Devoid of love.
Tangling my hands into Sejin’s hair, I pull him toward me for a deep kiss. He falls into it easily. As the sun rises high enough in the sky to mark that new day has begun, we break apart, gazing into each other’s eyes.
A new beginning.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sejin
“Holy shit, it’scold as fuck!” I gasp as I leap away from the waterfall.
It’s not a big one. In fact, most people wouldn’t even pay it much attention or go out of their way to find it. But there are little falls like this all over the park from spring through the end of fall.
Fresh, clean water rushes from an overhang and splashes onto a floor of granite. It doesn’t pool, but instead seeps into the cracks or rushes off away down the slope to join a creek below. I can see where Dan got the idea for using it to wash. It’s very much like a shower.
Except that it’s freezing cold and there’s no way to adjust the temperature.
“It’s not so bad,” Dan says, walking deliberately beneath the water and standing there with a grin on his face. I see the goosebumps rise on his skin, though, and his nipples pebble up, and his cock and balls shrink fast.
I convulse with my arms around myself, my long hair plastered over my forehead and down my back and shoulders.
“C’mon,” he says, stretching out his hand. “You’ll get used to it.”
I gasp again as I take hold of his fingers and step back beneath the water. I nearly leap out, but he grasps me close, and I laugh as he kisses my neck and shoulders. “Stop, stop.” I giggle. “I’m drowning. I’m dying. I’m getting hypothermia.”
He releases me immediately, but I don’t go anywhere, pressing up against him instead. He doesn’t grab me, though, so I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss his lips. He licks into my mouth as the water comes down around us, cold as hell and making us both shake. We stop kissing long enough to shampoo ourselves and each other with the Dr. Bronners that Dan has stashed in his endless bag of supplies.