“Maybe we’d be in the hospital,” he replies, “standing over an incubator. Or in the apartment, changing a diaper. Are you sorry it didn’t work out that way?”
I pretend to consider it, but the truth is I’ve been reflecting on it for weeks. “I think we’re exactly where we’re meant to be. Otherwise, we’d be someplace else.”
Jacob pats Scooter, who takes a seat on the grass beside him. “Yeah, but if it had happened, everything would’ve been fine. I think for you, it’s possible to have everything you want.”
I turn to him. “What do you mean?”
“A child and a career. Because you’re a doer, Sienna. You don’t let setbacks or obstacles get in your way. You figure out how to get around them.”
I feel my cheeks flush at the compliment and realize that Jacob sees qualities in me I don’t always see in myself. And he says the sweetest things.
I raise my sandwich to take a bite, but Scooter goes into begging mode. He rises up on his hind legs and drops his front paws onto my lap.
“Scooter ... sit,” Jacob warns with authority.
His floppy ears flatten. He drops his bum obediently but remains laser focused on my sandwich.
As soon as I finish the last bite, Jacob scans the horizon, and then he starts to pack up. “We should go. I don’t want us to get stuck on the trail after dark.”
I’ve never come to Cape Split in January, when the days are so short, and I wish we’d thought to bring flashlights. With a sense of urgency, I zip up my jacket, and we begin the trek across the summit, back to the trail.
I’m not yet aware that this is the end for us, our last moment together on this earth. I’m still feeling happy and energetic, eager to get myblood pumping. I’m also conscious of the distinctive beauty of this moment—the changing light in the sky and the movement of a thick white cloud directly above us. I glance up and wonder if it might be a sign of more rain, or perhaps snow if the temperature drops. I look ahead at the backpack on Jacob’s shoulders, and Scooter in front of him, tugging on the leash.
Jacob whistles. “Slow down! No pulling.”
It’s remarkable, how every element of that final moment becomes imprinted on my brain.
Jacob stops at the fence. He wraps the leash around his fist to bring Scooter close and keep him secure because there are no pickets between the posts, just horizontal rails fashioned out of tree branches. He leans over and looks straight down. “The tide’s gone out since we arrived.”
I join him to look, and we say nothing as we study the sheer rock face and glance at spruce trees that cling to the top of the cliff by exposed roots.
Another young couple passes behind us on the trail. They say hello and continue on.
Feeling a potent urge to get going, I step back. “Ready?”
Still gripping the fence rail in one hand, Jacob turns. Almost immediately, the ground starts to give way beneath his feet. The fence tips forward, and in the space of a single heartbeat, he and Scooter abruptly drop.
Electrified by shock and terror, I rush forward to peer over the edge. The fence dangles by a single footing, and Jacob is hanging on. Scooter is yelping and screeching, scrambling to climb back up.
Our panicked eyes meet. “Hold on!” I scream as I drop to my hands and knees, but there’s nothing I can do. They’re both beyond my reach.
Jacob grunts and roars and kicks his toes against the rock face, in an attempt to run up it, but it’s too steep and slippery, and he gains no traction. Pebbles pour down the side of the mountain, and the fencecreaks and groans where it’s held together with rusty nails. Scooter is almost to the top, but he’s being strangled by Jacob’s drag on the collar.
I’m vaguely aware of two people running toward us from the grassy summit. But it’s too late. The ground beneath me starts to fall away. I slide forward, headfirst, the heels of my hands plowing through the earth as I fight to hold myself back from the edge. Scooter scratches his way up my arm. He tears my flesh to shreds.
Then suddenly, the post snaps. It splinters like a brittle twig, and we all descend together in a heap of flailing bodies, screams, and thuds as we bounce off the walls of earth and stone. There’s a scraping of flesh and a smashing of bones. Blazing-hot terror until my bloodied, broken body hits the pebbly beach. The shock of impact leaves me breathless. All I can do is lie there, blinking up at the late-afternoon sky, confused and disoriented.
A white cloud passes over me. Brilliant rays of sunlight shoot out from behind. It’s blinding, so I close my eyes. Only then do I begin to feel pain. Everywhere. In my guts, my bones, my cut flesh. Blood seeps from my nose, and I want to scream in agony, but I can’t get a breath. My ribs feel like knives.
Jacob ...I sense him beside me.
Please, God, let him be okay. I can’t live without him.
Someone, please, help us.
I hear voices from above. “Hang in there! Help is coming!”
That’s one prayer answered, at least.
