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Still Here
“Don’t be scared, lady. I’ve done it a bunch of times.”
The boy couldn’t be more than twelve. Twelve. And he’s cliff dived ‘a bunch of times.' I’m thirty-seven, and I’ve never jumped off a cliff. Nor have I ever wanted to until now. I mean, I still don’t want to, but for Damon, I will.
“Thanks, kid. It’s that obvious, huh?”
“It’s okay, lots of people are scared. It’s your time, though.”
Cold sweat prickles in the pits of my arms, gooseflesh rises on my skin. My stomach tightens and tremors ripple through my body like electric currents. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared before. Before I can respond, he speaks again.
“We can jump together if you want. But first, tell me your name, miss.”
I finally turn my head from the impossibly far away blue-green water, and down at the sweet child beside me. A perfect stranger. His eyes are amber, his young skin—the color of warm cocoa—hugs his jutting bones. Water droplets sparkle in his tight curls like diamonds in the sun. He’s so calm.
A little laugh escapes through my chattering teeth. Not at the boy, but at myself. I draw in a shaky breath and nod on the exhale. My hand flutters to my chest, and I press my palm hard against the violent drumming beneath my breast, as if I could quell it.
Less than thirty minutes earlier, I said I would try it, though. That was before I looked over the ledge, down at the sea so far below.
“Just once,” Damon had promised from right beside me, where the boy is now.
“You’ll be so glad you did it, Birdie.”
He counted to three and jumped. I let go of his hand at the last second and drew back as he launched forward. Regret and relief tangled inside me as I watched my husband sail through the air. The breath I’d been holding sighed out of my lips the moment he broke the surface and shouted something unintelligible up to me. But knowing Damon as I do, it was no doubt some words of encouragement. He’s down there now. Still waiting patiently for me to find my courage.
I purse my lips together in a grim white line. Blood rushes and thumps in my ears. I hear my own voice as if through a windstorm.
“It’s Birdie. Birdie Harrison.”
The boy smiles up at me as he leans in.
“I’ll count to three, and then we’ll jump. Ready?”
I nod this time, slower, more deliberately. My heart is thudding like a bass drum keeping time for an invisible band.
“One….
Two…
Three…”
The boy whose name I don’t know—whose skin is like warm cocoa, eyes the color ochre, and hair that is diamond jeweled—swan jumps. My feet do an awkward shuffle, my knees bend. But I don’t so much leap as fall forward. Air rushes past my ears, and my hair whips around my face before it streams behind me like ribbons of pale fire. Everything is a blur. Except for the boy, that is.
He does a slow backflip in the air, and time slows as his round, calm eyes meet mine. My heart isn’t thundering anymore. There are only the eyes of the boy, the wind, and the blue-green lagoon far (so very far) away. And Damon, of course. My sweet Damon.
His name in my head starts the clock again, and my eyes widen then squeeze shut at the immediacy of impact. My head and shoulders plunge into the cold water like a rocket. Though the surface is an inviting shade of teal, it has belied a twilight blue underbelly.
Straight down I go, for what seems like forever. At last, my momentum slows, and I can turn myself toward the surface. Underwater, everything is muted. A murmuring quiet but for the sound of blurps and blubs of the under-ocean. My eyes are open again. Minuscule particles fleck the dense scene like lazy snowflakes. My breath, held in against the water, strains to restart.
I need to breathe, to get back to the surface...
The boy couldn’t be more than twelve. Twelve. And he’s cliff dived ‘a bunch of times.' I’m thirty-seven, and I’ve never jumped off a cliff. Nor have I ever wanted to until now. I mean, I still don’t want to, but for Damon, I will.
“Thanks, kid. It’s that obvious, huh?”
“It’s okay, lots of people are scared. It’s your time, though.”
Cold sweat prickles in the pits of my arms, gooseflesh rises on my skin. My stomach tightens and tremors ripple through my body like electric currents. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared before. Before I can respond, he speaks again.
“We can jump together if you want. But first, tell me your name, miss.”
I finally turn my head from the impossibly far away blue-green water, and down at the sweet child beside me. A perfect stranger. His eyes are amber, his young skin—the color of warm cocoa—hugs his jutting bones. Water droplets sparkle in his tight curls like diamonds in the sun. He’s so calm.
A little laugh escapes through my chattering teeth. Not at the boy, but at myself. I draw in a shaky breath and nod on the exhale. My hand flutters to my chest, and I press my palm hard against the violent drumming beneath my breast, as if I could quell it.
Less than thirty minutes earlier, I said I would try it, though. That was before I looked over the ledge, down at the sea so far below.
“Just once,” Damon had promised from right beside me, where the boy is now.
“You’ll be so glad you did it, Birdie.”
He counted to three and jumped. I let go of his hand at the last second and drew back as he launched forward. Regret and relief tangled inside me as I watched my husband sail through the air. The breath I’d been holding sighed out of my lips the moment he broke the surface and shouted something unintelligible up to me. But knowing Damon as I do, it was no doubt some words of encouragement. He’s down there now. Still waiting patiently for me to find my courage.
I purse my lips together in a grim white line. Blood rushes and thumps in my ears. I hear my own voice as if through a windstorm.
“It’s Birdie. Birdie Harrison.”
The boy smiles up at me as he leans in.
“I’ll count to three, and then we’ll jump. Ready?”
I nod this time, slower, more deliberately. My heart is thudding like a bass drum keeping time for an invisible band.
“One….
Two…
Three…”
The boy whose name I don’t know—whose skin is like warm cocoa, eyes the color ochre, and hair that is diamond jeweled—swan jumps. My feet do an awkward shuffle, my knees bend. But I don’t so much leap as fall forward. Air rushes past my ears, and my hair whips around my face before it streams behind me like ribbons of pale fire. Everything is a blur. Except for the boy, that is.
He does a slow backflip in the air, and time slows as his round, calm eyes meet mine. My heart isn’t thundering anymore. There are only the eyes of the boy, the wind, and the blue-green lagoon far (so very far) away. And Damon, of course. My sweet Damon.
His name in my head starts the clock again, and my eyes widen then squeeze shut at the immediacy of impact. My head and shoulders plunge into the cold water like a rocket. Though the surface is an inviting shade of teal, it has belied a twilight blue underbelly.
Straight down I go, for what seems like forever. At last, my momentum slows, and I can turn myself toward the surface. Underwater, everything is muted. A murmuring quiet but for the sound of blurps and blubs of the under-ocean. My eyes are open again. Minuscule particles fleck the dense scene like lazy snowflakes. My breath, held in against the water, strains to restart.
I need to breathe, to get back to the surface...
220 pages, Kindle Edition
Published December 28, 2017
4 people are currently reading
253 people want to read
About the author
Elsa Kurt
44 books90 followersHello! I'm a multi-genre author of several books (and will probably always be writing more!) I'm also a married mom of two grown daughters, a total daydreamer, nature lover, avid gardener, flower-loving, proudly awkward as heck woman thoroughly enjoying this stage in my life.
I love to create strong female characters who don't stay in the lines and the male characters who love them for it. I also weave the things I personally cherish into the stories. For instance, there's a high probability that you'll see a reference to Cary Grant (as well as others classic film stars) in my stories. Gardening, kayaking, dogs... yup, they find their way in there, too!
Writing professionally has been a lifelong dream, one that I only began to fulfill in my 40's & I'm so grateful to my husband for his constant support and encouragement. It's never too late to follow your passions!
I love to create strong female characters who don't stay in the lines and the male characters who love them for it. I also weave the things I personally cherish into the stories. For instance, there's a high probability that you'll see a reference to Cary Grant (as well as others classic film stars) in my stories. Gardening, kayaking, dogs... yup, they find their way in there, too!
Writing professionally has been a lifelong dream, one that I only began to fulfill in my 40's & I'm so grateful to my husband for his constant support and encouragement. It's never too late to follow your passions!
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
January 23, 2018
Amazing story. If life didn’t interrupt me I would have finished it in one sitting. It instantly drew me in and I didn’t want to put the book down. So sad that it ended. I want to read more about Damon and Birdie.
I won this book - thank you Goodreads and Elsa Kurt. I am now a fan.
I won this book - thank you Goodreads and Elsa Kurt. I am now a fan.
August 17, 2018
Great!
Mel, this was a great read. I really enjoyed it. hope to read many more of your books. Very interesting.
Mel, this was a great read. I really enjoyed it. hope to read many more of your books. Very interesting.
January 20, 2019
A favorite- my book club loved this pic.
October 30, 2024
Interesting story concept
Overall the story is just okay. There is too much foul language for me. But also, this book needs more editing.
Overall the story is just okay. There is too much foul language for me. But also, this book needs more editing.
April 27, 2019
Love her books!!!! Awesome read!!!
Mary Kelleher
Mary Kelleher
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews