Down Here                                                                      

“Dear stupid little book with the skateboard on the cover (I don’t even like skateboarding so why Ol’ Uncle B. picked you out for me I couldn’t say) Anyway how’s it…. I can’t believe I am talking to a bunch of paper super glued together. How can girls do this every single day? This is such a waste of time!”
As she read aloud my mother emphasized the syllables in a way that made me sound like an idiot. “A lot of boys write in journals too Josh.” She pointed out. “It is a good way to express your feelings with out fear of anyone reading it or…”
“Well you’re reading mine right now.” I rolled off my half made bed and made my way to the window. It was a beautiful day, perfect for climbing.
“I’m only reading it because I know you didn’t write anything important in it.”
“What are you psychic now or something?” One of the things I hated most in the world was people who claimed to know what I was going to do before I did it. It really pissed me off. I did a backwards summersault over my bed and retrieved my climbing harness and rope from my closet. They were about the only things I could ever find in there. I loved rock climbing. It was practically my life. I lived in the perfect place for it too, by the coast, and when the tide was out the cliffs were amazing. I had taken a nasty spill on the face my friends and I had appropriately named “Killer Cliff Suicide” and I had just gotten the cast off my arm a week and a half ago. I had been waiting for a chance to tackle the harder climbs ever since.
“I’ve known you your whole life Josh, I gave birth to you!” My mother pleaded. “Why do you have to be so hard on me? Where are you going?”
“Climbing.” I wanted to get out of there before she continued on with her “I gave birth to you” crap. I wasn’t going to listen to another one of her guilt trips. “Wanna Come?” It was sarcasm of course. She would never come.
“Josh…” I made a run for the door and took the stairs two at a time. There was no use running though, I could here her chasing me. I was so sick of playing these stupid games. I stopped at the fridge to grab an apple.
“You never plan ahead, everything is just spur of the moment for you” I nodded as I counted my karabiners. “You know better then to be a runout Josh, climbing takes lots of planning and… where are you going? Josh, listen to me!”
I let the screen door slam as I searched though my key ring for my bike lock. I hated it when my mother was like that; sometimes I even wished she had died along with my dad. A foster home couldn’t have been much worse. “Goodbye Mom.”
“You’re not going anywhere before you put a helmet on young man!” She poked her head out the screen door.
“I’m too good for a helmet.”
“You could get hurt, what if…”
“Goodbye Mom.”
“…A rock could fall on your head or…”
“Goodbye!”
“Oh Josh, you don’t know the worst that could happen!”
. I didn’t mean to make her cry but she was being just so damn annoying!

I pulled onto Main Street and took off at full speed. The wind stung my face and I felt tears running down my cheeks. I didn’t want to admit to myself that the tears were probably only partially made by the wind.
        My Mom and I never used to fight like that. All the fighting started after my dad died. He was in an accident caused by a drunk driver, and regrettably, my father was the drunk. He really wasn’t that bad of a guy, just an alcoholic that couldn’t regain control over his life. The rest of the locals didn’t see him that way though. A young woman with an eight-month-old son at home was also killed and the whole town was in an uproar. I had to face the hallways at school and the incriminating faces that believed my father’s problems would be reflected in me. My mother became a basket case after the whole ordeal and had been treating me like a baby ever since.
I glided past Mr. Whirley’s and decided that maybe a slurpee would make me feel a bit better. Mr. Whirley’s had been in our town for years. Even my mom remembers eating there so I guess it is really old. I got a purple slurpee and scanned the place for familiar faces. I recognized one right away-Sylvie Konwell. She was so pretty with long blond hair and dark brown eyes. I had even talked to her a couple times. She was a poet and for inspiration she often hung around the rocks where we climbed. She probably wasn’t my type, but still I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on her for a few seconds longer.
“Hey Josh!” I heard a familiar voice from behind. “Why the long face?” It was my friend Brett. He was probably the best friend I had. I looked his way thankful that my tears were all gone. “Is something wrong?” He asked me.
“Nope, I’m fine.” I lied. Guys my age don’t go around crying about anything. “Hey wanna go climbing with me?” I quickly changed the subject. “Killer Cliff Suicide is waiting for us!”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” he laughed. “You broke your arm from the whipper you took last time on that thing!”
“It was my wrist and it is all better now.” I waved my arm in his face. “See no biggie, it didn’t even hurt! You’re not a chicken or anything are you?” I joked. I realized that I was putting pressure on him but I didn’t think much of it.
“Duh? Of course I am not scared!” Brett chucked his empty cup into a nearby garbage. “Lets go!”

We road all the way to the outskirts in silence. I was busy in my own little world praying that a tornado would hit and destroy the place so I wouldn’t have to take on that cliff again. There was this one ledge that you had to get over before you could get a hook in. I hadn’t even gotten close to it when I fell. It did hurt like hell but I’m good at hiding things and everyone thought I was fine. I’m going to be an actor some day I know it.
We practiced on a less deadly slope for a little while until we were ready for the big one, or at least we said we were.
“So who’s up first?” Brett asked.
“You can go ahead, I’ll be the belayer and hold the rope for you.”
“If I even get to the rope part.”
“Sure you will.”
I don’t know who was the better climber out of Brett and me, but he was really pumped and not half as scared as I was. He started up slow testing each handhold before he grabbed it. I figured I was about to witness history - the first person to reach the top of that face. I wished that I ‘d brought my camera-everything was perfect. The rocks had a purplely glow to them in the suns rays. There was a sharp ocean breeze and I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. It was a nice wind though, maybe not then but it always felt refreshing once you got about halfway to the top and were wondering what you were doing and thinking about collecting rocks instead of climbing them. That was the best part though; it made making it to the top that much better once you had conquered all your fears. It made little things seem less important. Making a speech in front of the class or trying out for a team seemed so much less daunting once you had made it all the way to the very top.
The view was even greater from up there. You could see the lighthouse from the next town over, and every once in a while you could catch a glimpse of a ghostly freighter in the distance that had almost reached the harbour after a long journey. The gulls were bigger then normal and they would crowd around you calling for a piece of your sandwich or some of the potato chips you had brought along before flying off to taunt you with their graceful wings. Not everyone could make it to the top but if you could it was like you ruled the planet.

Brett never reached the part that I had made it to before my fall though. I was really paying more attention to the view than him-but some pebbles must have gave way under his feet or something and he fell, inverting all the way down. It was horrific. The sound he made when he hit the ground in front of me was the worst thing I had ever heard in my life. He must have hit his head- he had to have and he didn’t get up. All I could do was just stand there staring.
“Oh my God what happened?” Sylvie appeared out of nowhere and knelt down beside my friend. “How could you let him try and climb that? Why didn’t you help him? Don’t just stand there, do something!” She sounded really mad. I didn’t know what I could do though and I continued to stand there in shock. Sylvie came up to me and shook me hard. I jolted back into reality. Brett was lying on the ground dead. No wait, he wasn’t dead, he was hurt. What happened? He fell of the face of “Killer Cliff” Why would he be dumb enough to try and climb that? Because I made him. I felt the blood rush from my cheeks. He was lying there not dead but really hurt and it was entirely my fault. How could this happen?
“Call 911!” Sylvie was still yelling at me. “Hurry up!”
I got on my bike and flew out of there as fast as I could. “Find a phone booth, any phone booth!” They probably had one at Mr. Whirley’s but I wasn’t sure and I kept going up the main street. Finally I reached my house. I threw open the front door and ran into the den. My mother was on the phone. The stupid woman, how could she even think of being on the phone when I needed it? I knew somewhere in the back corner of my mind that I was not thinking clearly. But my mind was as messy as my closet and I couldn’t find my common sense.
I grabbed the receiver from her hand and hung up.
“Josh? What in the world do you think you are…”
“Just shut up!” I snapped as I dialled emergency. I told the operator lady everything and my mom stared at me listening to every word. At last I hung up.
“Oh Josh.” My mom was sympathetic, but I didn’t feel like talking. I was out the door and back on my bike racing towards the cliffs in seconds. There wasn’t anything more I could do. I had already done enough for one day, but I wanted to make sure Brett was okay.

Brett had broken his neck. I don’t know all the hospital technical stuff-my attention span was not that great and I stopped listening after they said he would most likely be paralysed from the waist down. I should never have made him climb that stupid cliff. I should have gotten help faster. Now my best friend would hate me forever. Everyone will hate me now, just like they hated my dad. My crazy Uncle B. even came in from the city to try and talk to me but I was as uncooperative as hell and eventually even he gave up on trying to get though to me. I was extremely bitter and as far as I was concerned my climbing days were over.
I was sitting in the waiting room of the hospital that night when tears started forming in my eyes. I hadn’t really cried hard since my dad died. I sat there again in the waiting room crying like a 4 year old for the second time in my life.
I heard someone coming and I angrily brushed my tears away, though I didn’t really care much about it anymore. I still didn’t want to look like a whiny toddler. I turned to see who was coming and my face felt hotter. It was Sylvie, one of the people I most wished I never had to see again. I took a deep breath and prepared for the inevitable “I hate you lecture”. She didn’t yell at me though. She put her hand on my shoulder and I could have died because she had seen me crying.
“I’m so sorry Josh.” She whispered. I shrugged. I knew it was no good to lock myself up inside but I was so used to suppressing my emotions. I looked up at her and noticed that she was crying too.
“Don’t cry.” I said as I wiped one of her tears away.
“It’s good to cry Josh.” She whimpered. “I want to let it out.” I should have started crying again then and totally have fallen apart but I didn’t. My “too cool” side was starting to show again as much as I didn’t really want it too. “You are allowed to cry, your best friend was in a serious accident, I didn’t even really know him and look at me!”
I laughed. I can’t believe I did it but I did. Nothing was even funny. Sylvie glared at me with her big brown eyes and turned to walk away.
“I’m starting to wonder if you are even human Josh.” She wiped a tear away and disappeared around the corner. I knew I had blown it but there was nothing I could do, it seemed like I was a jerk by nature.

I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I sat there in my dark room listening to the wind outside. I bet everyone had found out about the accident by now. They probably would block off “Killer Cliff Suicide” and make a bunch of regulations for climbers- not that it mattered to me anymore. I did think about going back though, as if scaling the cliff alone would help me prove myself in the eyes of a small town that detested me.
I rolled out of bed and found the little skateboard book in my desk drawer. I ripped a couple pages out and found a pen. I figured it was better to write to real people than to a dumb little book.

                                         
“Josh!” My mom opened the door just a crack. “The phone is for you. It’s a girl, do you want to talk to her?” I nodded and climbed out of bed already wearing my clothes and reached for the receiver on my night table.
“Hello?” I said groggily.
“Hey Josh?” It was Sylvie. I knew it would be. “I got your letter. How did you get it to my mailbox so early? Sneak out during the night?” She laughed a bit. She was joking.
“Pretty much.” I wasn’t.
“Look I am sorry for leaving you yesterday. I wasn’t very understanding…”
“Don’t worry about it.” I was starting to feel kind of embarrassed about my late night excursion.
“You know everyone doesn’t hate you Josh. They feel sorry for you if anything. Your father may have been the drunk driver, but he was your dad all the same, and losing him must have been horrible.” She paused waiting for me to say something but I was silent. I knew she was right I just didn’t want to admit it yet. “How about we go visit Brett together today? If you are ready.” I felt a bit relieved that she wasn’t pressuring me to talk about it yet if I didn’t want to.
“Yah that would be great.” I stared out my window. The tide was out again.
“I’ll meet you at Mr. Whirley’s in two hours?”
“Sounds good.” I hung up and stood there thinking for a while. Then something dawned on me-it was a perfect day for climbing. My harness was in a ball in the corner of my room where it was supposed to stay forever. I picked it up and examined it a bit before grabbing my rope and running down the stairs two at a time. I had only two hours to get to the top and back.