The last time someone willingly jumped off this cliff we call “The Ledge”, they were desperate. Possibly in love. That’s what I tell Grace, walking along the beach. The late Autumn air stings our cheeks rosy. A glass-smooth lake reflects the sky’s body, an enormity of blue. And the chilly wind sends Grace’s freckled face retreating between the crook of my neck and shoulders. Though we’re not a couple, she and I trade stories with deep smiles, holding hands. Today is Grace’s birthday party, and her many guests, most of whom I’ve never met, are eager to celebrate. But I’m just grateful she personally invited me, her party’s paper notice staying warm within my pocket.
We wander beneath the “Ledge’s” bulk, an encrusted cropping of jagged stone. Despite eroding with fissures, it looms several stories tall. Admiring such authority, Grace randomly asks if I’ve ever fallen from such a height. I say no, but, and I keep this to myself, there are many kinds of falls. For example, after tutoring me qualified for the Dean’s list of honors, Grace celebrated my success with a private bash. We sat on her porch all night, me and her, our cigarettes burning between fingers. But after smoking fresh rolls extinguished, Grace acclaimed my hazel eyes as galaxies of color, luminous pools of light. And it was then, I knew I’d fallen hard for her.
Together, we continue along the lake’s shoreline, each step a plod in the sand. Groups of fellow college students mingle beside open coolers, sipping strong stuff. But one of the more fraternal guests, a bearded dude wearing sunglasses, plays “trust fall” with girls. Standing along the lake’s lapping tide, he catches every willing damsel in turn, sparing them a soaking. And before long, he offers me a try, but I turn him down, suspecting a prank. I’m the first male he’s offered to catch, a primary sucker to humiliate. I’m not about to fall for this.
However, to everyone’s disbelief, Grace accepts his request, flinching my insides. Does she want to be swaddled in bearded guy’s arms? But as she leans back, the man drops her, and the shallow waves drench Grace in foam and froth.
Bearded guy looks down at his work, spreading a grin like he’s just spread a woman’s thighs. Grace’s denim jacket clings like a soppy second skin, and I expect her to punch this jokester bloody. Instead, her mouth forms a slack-jawed smile, wordlessly questioning this man’s audacity. A mock angry flirtation. If there ever existed a history between them, she never mentioned it before.
***
The lollipop sun descends, gasping red rays between the trees. Beachside fires flicker embers into the ether, and a few tipsy patrons start dancing, ass against crotch. I gift Grace, now wearing spare clothes under my leather jacket, some drinks. Then, having chugged myself drunk on piss poor pints, an arm settles around my shoulders. Its bearded guy, and his collared shirt reeks of Marijuana.
“You’re gonna dance with Grace tonight,” he says, wadding my ear warm with booze breath. Lifting me up, he marches me out, and when we reach Grace, my heartbeat falls out of step, but alcohol fuels me, brave.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I slur, rising a chuckle out bearded guy’s throat. I motion towards the raunchy dancers. “Interested?”
Grace’s eyes flick mechanically alert, as if my question slapped her.
“No, thank you,” she says, her words daring me to argue. She makes for “The Ledge”, and I sink to the sand, a beached fish yearning for more than fresh water. Meanwhile, bearded guy, the man my trust fell back on, shakes his head.
“One man’s sunset? Another man’s dawn.” He pats my back and likewise leaves, as if his shoddy sendoff is supposed to make me feel better.
***
Thorn-sharp bushes claw my clothes, prickling as I ascend after Grace. The sun flecks its remaining light across the lake, and persistent gusts rustle the skirts of trees. My throat constricts while my lungs sear – I need to quit smoking – but I carry on. Despite sauntering smashed, I’ve thought things through; I need Grace’s forgiveness. My earlier words came out rushed, more lustful than lovely. So, I’m going to take the fall and make things right. But rounding a corner, I hear soft laughter, muffled intakes of breath. Then, my eyes adjust.
Grace tousles her red hair as if just waking up. Taking bearded guy’s hands in hers, she maps them down her khaki pants, up and underneath her shirt. The best game of geography. And bearded guy, then, gently merges his face with hers. Their every kiss, a kidney punch to my heart.
“Hey,” I mutter, jolting Grace around. “Sorry for earlier. Guess I had the wrong idea.”
My presence strangles Grace speechless, but bearded guy smirks. “Forget him,” he whispers, guiding her chin back. They carry on exchanging affection, and I stand there, unremarkable as a faded candy wrapper shriveling along sidewalks. But my eyes start filling, and the urge to flee triggers. I look back at the dirt trail, too slow a descent. Then, I see the cliff’s battered, arrow-tipped edge, a masterpiece to behold. Motivation kindles like a struck match, and I approach it.
Reaching the cliff’s furthest point, I hear Grace pivot in the gravel, breaking her kiss. “Are you crazy?” She screams, her voice awash in panic.
“No,” I call back. “Just desperate.”
I jump off “The Ledge”, surrendering myself to gravity. Bubbles explode in my chest as I plummet, and my organs bulge up my throat. Tearing a hole through freezing water, my dick recedes into my groin, but I let myself sink. When I finally resurface, my eyes turn skyward. Grace leaps after me. Breakneck speed. Her silhouetted figure grazes the winking moon, but her scissor legs slice into stone extensions. Careening herself off target, my eyes lurch wide in silent wailing as her descent concludes, falling short of me.//
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robert Hudgens is an author of literary fiction, residing in South Georgia with his wife and three sons. His work has appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, White Wall Review, Wrong Turn Lit, Marrow, and Poor Yorick among others.
He holds a Masters of Secondary Education from Georgia College and State University and enjoys running, gaming, traveling, and cheering on the Michigan Wolverines.
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