It seemed as if those tiny specks I saw
way out in the water must be people. I couldn't be sure, but I just had that
feeling.
At
about 5:00 p.m. on a day in late August, I walked along the stony beach of
Yellowstone Lake. What I saw fascinated me. I would have loved to have taken a
swim, but I had been warned, "that water is much too cold at this season
for humans to enter (as low as 40 degrees Fahrenheit)". As I drew closer,
I could see that they were indeed humans, a man and a woman. What's more, they
frolicked in the most carefree manner. As I mumbled to myself in amazement, a
voice called to me from nearby.
"Do you think we should warn them?"
I turned and saw a
woman sitting on a rock at the base of the embankment behind the beach. I went
over to her.
"Excuse
me?" I said.
"Don't you think
we should warn them? I read somewhere that there's only a ten-minute tolerance
in that water. Then hypothermia sets in."
She watched me with
clear searching eyes, under the large straw hat she wore. I could not determine
her age. Her smooth skin and long flowing hair gave her a youthful appearance,
but she was no child.
"How long have
they been out there?" I asked.
"I'm not sure,
but I don't think they should have gone in at all."
"Well, they seem
to be fine. They're still laughing and playing."
"I know, but
it's the after-effects I'm worried about," she said.
"I doubt that
they'd hear me if I called, anyway."
She shook her head
and shrugged in resignation, looking down at the large open book she held on
the laps of her long denim dress.
She looked up again.
"Are you a tourist?" she
asked.
I told her that I
came with a tour group and that we were just stopping overnight at the hotel
above the beach; that it disappointed me not to have more time at such a
beautiful lake.
"It is very
beautiful," she agreed. "That's why I came here."
"You work at the
hotel?"
"Yes, I work in
the kitchen."
"You've been
here long?"
"Just a
week."
"So how come you
came here?"
"I wanted to get
away."
"From...?"
“From the rush of the world. To be in nature. To find personal
peace."
"Did you have a
lot of stress?"
"I suppose
so."
"D-do you have
any family? Did you leave...?"
"No. Well, I
have parents, but no husband or children, if that's what you mean."
"You left a
job?"
"Yes, I was a
secretary in Salt Lake City."
"And you just
left?"
"Yes. Well, I
came to Salt Lake City about a year ago. I came from Kansas, and before that,
Oklahoma."
"So you've been
a sort of wanderer."
"Yes."
"All
alone?"
"Well, I had
someone else--a special person in my life."
"A man?"
"Yes."
"But he's
gone?"
"Yes."
"It must be
hard."
"Yes, but I'm
strong. I can find my own peace. One has to."
"But you just
left everything?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't it
frighten you to think you have no security?"
"I have to make
my own security."
She
was watching the swimmers, who seemed less lively now.
"I think
somebody should stop them."
"They're
adults," I said. "They should know what they're doing."
"How many adults
do you know who know what they're doing?"
I had to admit, upon
reflection, that she had a point.
"I myself
don't," I confessed. "That's why I'm so amazed that you could make
such a sweeping decision to suddenly leave everyone and everything."
"I don't really
have anyone," she said.
"And your
possessions? Don't you own anything?"
"Well, I do have
a few things stored in my father's and stepmother's house in Florida."
"You don't visit
them?"
"We're not
close. I've really been wandering for a long time. Being a secretary, I had no
trouble getting jobs in Kansas City and Salt Lake City. And as I said, I had a
companion. You know, I'm really worried about those people. They must have been
in twenty minutes by now!" She stood up and started walking toward the
water. When she got to the point on the shore closest to the swimmers, she
started to wave and shout. "Hey, you swimmers! Hey people out there!
Listen to me! You should come in now! That water is too cold! It's
dangerous!"
The lone figure there
on the beach, with her waving arms and shouting voice, seemed like a mighty
prophetess, thundering a warning to desist or be forever condemned.
The swimmers either
didn't hear or were not about to listen to a stranger's commands. After a
while, she gave up and came back to me.
"That's the
problem with places like this," she said. "No lifeguard, no boats.
Someone needs to go out and drag them in. I wouldn't be able to do that. Would
you?"
Not even wanting to
consider such a thing, I quickly said, "But they're not drowning or
anything."
"But they may be
soon," she said ominously.
"I still say
that as adults they're responsible for their own welfare."
"We've already
been through that," she said with irritation. "Men don't usually take
responsibility," she muttered.
I was taken aback.
"Is that what
happened with the man you were traveling with?" I said bluntly.
"It doesn't
matter," she said, more calmly. "Many men are like that."
What does one do when
faced with the unpleasant, unacknowledged truth? He keeps silent.
She picked up her
book again and stared at it, but was not reading.
I looked at my watch.
5:20. I had to get back to the hotel soon to shower and dress for 6:30 dinner.
I gazed again at the swimmers. I imagined that they were nearer shore than
before. Maybe they're coming in now, I hoped.
"I think they're
coming in," I said to her.
"They'll never
do it," she responded. "You know, there's something...I forget what
it's called...it's like when you lie down in the snow and start to freeze. Then
you don't want to get up. Something makes you just lie there and freeze to
death, even though you could still help yourself. That's why you have to force
people to live."
"That could
never happen to you," I said.
"I don't
know...That's why I keep moving, I guess."
"It could happen
to me," I said. "I tend to give up."
"I can see
that."
"I live in the
same house I was born in." I continued. "And I cling to it."
"Didn't you ever
think of striking out on your own--taking the plunge--risking--just to prove
that you could do it."
"I guess I know
I couldn't."
She sighed.
"You're
hopeless!"
"That's what I
keep telling you."
She thought for a
long time.
I realized that the
swimmers weren't coming in. In fact, I wasn't sure they weren't going out.
"O.K.," she
said," I guess I'm also running."
"From
what?"
"From day-to-day
drudgery. From unkindness. From dog-eat-dog city life."
"From the
man?"
"The man?"
"The ‘special’
person in your life?" I pursued.
She half-nodded.
"Maybe."
"Was he unkind?"
"No...at least not deliberately. But he
had his life to lead and I have mine."
"So?"
"So we
parted."
She started
"What is
it?" I asked.
"I-I thought I
heard one of the swimmers scream."
"I didn't hear
anything."
"There! Listen! Yes, that was a
scream...and another."
She looked me dead in
the eye.
"This is your
chance."
"Huh?"
"This is your
chance."
"What chance? I
don't know what you're..."
"Your chance to break the cord. Your
chance for adventure. Your chance to prove that you can do it."
I was riddled with fear.
"I'll watch and pray for you," she
said. "I'm sure you can do it, if you want to."
I stood looking at her.
Her eyes offered me no choice. Go and
do it, or be forever branded a coward.
"But you said the water was too
cold..."
She started reading her book.
Something impelled me toward the shore. When I
reached it, I looked back for approval, but her eyes did not rise from the
book. I couldn't believe I was doing it, but I unlaced and took off my shoes. I
looked back again. Still no acknowledgment. I stood up, eyeing the deep blue.
Must I really do this?
Shouts came to my
ears. Laughter. Splashing.
I looked up. There
they were! They were coming! They were on their feet! They were walking! They
were very alive! I was saved!
As the man and woman
stepped out of the water, other people appeared on the beach from somewhere.
"How's the
water?" asked one.
“Isn't it a bit
cold?" asked another.
"I'm surprised you're still alive,"
added another.
"It is a bit nippy," said
the man, a robust dark-haired fellow, maybe forty, laughing heartily. He looked
slightly blue, but otherwise appeared in excellent condition. The woman,
somewhat younger, looked more exhausted and wanted to sit down, wrapped in a
robe and towels. She shivered slightly, and also giggled.
My friend watched it all from her rock.
I went back to her.
"So I failed," I said.
"Not really," she said. "You
made the move."
"But I was saved
at the crucial moment."
"You would have
taken the plunge, if you hadn't been."
"I...
Again those solid
eyes.
"Believe me, I
know. And, as I said, I'm also running."
"From him?"
"You keep coming
back to that."
"Yes, I think it's vital."
She hesitated.
"Alright. I was
really counting on him. I gave up my security to go with him."
"So that's
it."
"But it's alright. We were each meant to
find our own ways in life. I know I can. I'm strong..."
I wanted to say more, but she went back to her
book. The swimmers, seemingly fully recovered, had gathered their possessions
and now trudged toward the path that led up to the hotel.
"They're fine
now," I said. "I guess all that worry was for nothing."
"As I said, it's the after-effects I'm
worried about."
"And I don't
think anyone screamed, either," I added.
She looked at me mischievously.
"You screamed."
"I?"
"Yes, from the moment I saw you, you were
screaming."
"I don't understand...”
"I was once at a place like this--on the
shore of a beautiful lake, with a group of people. We were staying at a resort.
This boy had a dream. He stood on the shore with us and we watched a small
seaplane take off and fly over the lake. The boy said, `I want to fly like that
plane.' We, we adults, laughed. He wanted to fly. We all said, `You can't fly.
It's not possible. Only in mythology and religious miracles did people ever fly
by their own power. And we don't seem to have those things around anymore.' But
he said, `I want to fly.' And we thought he would forget about it soon. But he
kept on talking about it--the next day and the next. After a while, we all got
tired of it.
I was young then and I thought it was just
foolishness. Now I know what he wanted. What he wanted was to be sure of
himself--to be set free from the domination of his parents, his teachers, and
all authority--wanted his own power--new vistas--to be above the world, looking
down on it.
One day he was gone.
Immediately a search was started. It continued for two days, but he was not to
be found anywhere. His parents cried and cried. They were desperate. We all
tried to comfort them. The countryside and eventually the whole country was
fine-tooth-combed. Nowhere!
Did he really learn
to fly? Did he stand on the shore, looking up at the sky and wish and try so
hard that he finally lifted himself lightly off the beach and, gathering speed,
soared away to his fantasy land?"
She stared evenly at
me with her microscope eyes.
"I prefer to believe that he did."
~Godfrey Green
~Godfrey Green
