Jasmine's Place Issue No. 19 - September/October 2017 - Page 42

I get my head up enough to realize that one of the “tree trunk” logs is pinning my lower legs. “Joooo!” Mick cries as he sloshes out to me, grabbing my shoulders from behind. I could drown in two feet of water! I choke and spit out, “Help, Jesus, help!” as the water slightly recedes and the log crushes my legs even tighter. Then suddenly, the log lifts even though the water is receding, as if there is an unseen hand reaching down. Mick lifts me to my feet, “Can you walk?” By Marijo Phelps “What happened, there was no The strange words water within blocks of us? We could etched the away or I could have been into washed rock walls have had my didn’t legs crushed by that tree! Thank you, Jesus!” make sense. Until… “Let’s get back to the truck. You must be freezing.” Maybe that writing about Jake wasn’t just kids playing around. We walk quickly finding the little trail going up. 42 JASMINE'S PLACE “Why don’t you go to the restroom and get as much of the wet clothes off as possible. We can turn the car heater on full blast to help.” Mick looks at me kind of shaking his head. In the restroom is a sign that says “Hazardous beach in the winter, beware of rogue waves”, this, in the restroom, not by the path going down to the beach. I take off my soggy, sodden, salty layers to find sand in my underwear, in my hair and ears... yep, sand in my mouth too. We had walked to the edge of a twenty foot drop off and noticed writing on the rock walls. “In remembrance of Jake, RIP," I read aloud. "What do you think that means?” “Ah, probably just kids messing around, let’s see if we can find a way down closer to the water,” said Mick.