Member-only story
These Things Live Inside Us Forever
You never know when the curtain will fall
I adjusted my helmet as the raft barreled over class IV and V whitewater, toward a partially submerged cluster of boulders above a five foot drop into churning rapids of white foam.
My friend John looked over at me with a huge grin, and I cursed him, which made him laugh with delight. After all, the entire excursion was his idea.
The hired guide reminded us that should anyone fall out of the raft, keep your feet facing downriver to kick rocks or objects out of the way.
“Get ready, here we go!” the guide yelled.
Our raft catapulted off the boulders beneath us, and it felt like we were floating on a magic carpet. But then the nose of the raft dove, and we fell like an anvil into the turbulent vortex of foam and water below.
I was in the middle of the raft, and I gripped one of the chords attached to the inside. I closed my eyes and prepared for impact into the swirling, violent waters. When we hit, I remember falling forward sharply, but somehow I stayed in my seat.
I opened my eyes, anxious to tell John that I planned to kill him if we survived this trip. Except, John was not there. No one was there in the raft with me.