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attempt to beat the leading edge of the rolling wall of water.

 

Unexpectedly the high tidal wave slammed down onto the ground. Its thunderous collapse was deafening. And while Jimmy could clearly see the churning froth rush at him, there was nothing he could do to increase the already frantic pace.

 

The thought of a death by drowning began a flood of tears. Jimmy realized he was not going to make it to the cliffs in time. The legs gave up the chase and buckled. He sat there with hands covering the eyes. The sound of sobs was drowned out by the wave nearing by the second.

 

“Jimmy,” a voice softly called, “Jimmy.”

 

“What!” he cried.

 

“Trust me,” the voice said.

 

“I don’t want to die!”

 

“Now Jimmy.”

 

Jimmy gasped as his body was launched forward. With mouth agape and eyes popped open wide he could not believe what was happening. On the seat of his pants he was moving over the cracked surface of an ancient ocean bed like a hovercraft floating along on a layer of air. Still too young of a mind to question what was happening, his eyes darted back and forth between the wave and the cliffs. “Faster,” he commanded with a tone of authority in the voice and a glimmer of hope in the eyes, but the gap was closing fast.

 

“Please no!” he cried looking as if the wave would overcome the cliffs.

 

“Why don’t you fly Jimmy,” suggested the voice. “Just put out your arms and fly.”

 

Now the voice calling out from which direction he could not tell. All of a sudden something acted as an invisible force took hold of his arms and lunged them forward.   In a matter of seconds the body soared into the sky like a powerful jet taking off on a short runway. “Higher!” he screamed thinking there was not enough time to clear the towering wave.

 

With one final burst of energy Jimmy willed the thrusters to kick in. The explosive acceleration force sent him speeding towards the cliffs. But it was too late: for it appeared the wave was about to collide with the cliffs just as he reversed thrusters for a soft landing.

The Dream of Life

 Preparing for the impact, the inevitable death of the turbulent rush of water, he formed his body into a ball and covered his eyes. He also took a big breath of air expecting to be dragged below the surface by its sheer power. The air would be cut off by the cold and turbulent water. But something was strangely wrong. Jimmy’s heart thumped hard and the lungs chanced to gasp for breath. What? he thought as air filled the lungs. And more unusual was how could the sound of the wave breaking and crashing be heard from under the water. Stunned as to how the wave was avoided, the sound of its deafening roar diminishing to a soft purr, he could only feel the tickles of spray about the hands.

 

Jimmy spread his fingers and peeked at the ocean ahead. In the confusion he removed the hands from his face and slowly came to his feet. The eyes stayed focused on the tidal waves forming in the distant. He inched towards the edge of the cliff.

 

He had always thought that death by drowning was his fate, but now realized the tidal waves were no longer a threat. He looked down as the never-ending sets of swells came in with a thundering roll, crested high, and then fell innocently into the base of the cliff.

 

Safe from the threat, Jimmy triumphantly laughed and mocked the wave. Like the conductor of an orchestra he wielded an invisible baton to control the rise and fall of the each mighty swell’s rise, crest, and collapse.

The Dream of Freedom

 

The years hiding in the dark corner of the house, trapped in the bowel of the cistern, Jimmy took delight in the sunlight. The rays bathed him with warmth and chased away the darkness that was intimately known. The feeling of freedom was a feeling he had never known. And as the minutes passed he wished such joy would never be absent in life again. But in contemplating where to go, the job assignment to be given by the Men of Wisdom, he looked around and was trapped atop the cliff.

The west side of the cliff was marked with many nooks that could serve as handholds and footholds to climb down its face, but the descent led to the turbulent ocean and its waves of death. The east side of the cliff had a smooth face and was much too high for a jump to freedom.

Jimmy looked around for the person that voiced the instructions, but no one was there. In every direction he shouted “where are you?” but the voice remained silent. “Please, I want to go home. Help me please.”

The joy started to fade. And to make matter worse a smooth layer of clouds rolled in from the west and blocked the sunlight. Fear and darkness were back. Jimmy sat down and with eyes welling up with tears stared emptily at the distant swells.  

“Do you see the mighty trees?” the voice asked.

Jimmy jumped to his feet. “Huh?” He looked around. “Where are you?”

“Turn around and see the trees.”

Jimmy walked up to the edge of the east side of the cliff and looked down. “Huh?” he wondered aloud, “trees.” He did not know where they came from only that they were there now. An aroma of the sweet scent of pine filled the air. The grove was filled with ones as high as the cliffs and every size in between.

“I see the trees now.”

“Do you see the highest tree?”

“Yes”

“Jump on its highest branches?

“Jump?”

“Yes Jimmy jump.”

“But it’s too far away. I’ll get hurt and die.”

“No you won’t Jimmy; you can fly.”

He closed his eyes and the fun vision of flying to the cliffs briefly came into the mind. Jimmy smiled, eyed the nearest tall pine, slightly bent his legs, and hopped off the cliff like a flying squirrel gliding from tree to tree.

“Wee,” he shouted in glee as the tree neared. “Wow,” he laughed in amazement on just how soft the landing was. He looked down at the other trees and leapt off the branch onto the branch of another, then another. With each jump the feeling of power and utter joy glided along with him from branch to branch.

Once at the lowest tree of the grove, he saw it was still too far off the ground to jump without getting hurt. And the thought of climbing down from limb to limb was just too scary. Looking down to the ground Jimmy asked, “What now?”

“Jimmy, just step off the limb and hover. It’s as easy as that.”

“Do you mean fly?”

“No Jimmy, I mean float in the air.”

“Float,” whispered Jimmy. Without hesitation he took a step out into the air and screamed a triumphant “yes.” His body floated over the ground like a hummingbird hovering above a bed of flowers filled with sweet nectar. An awe-inspiring scene of purple and yellow and red flowers below amidst lush green leaves filled Jimmy’s heart with an overwhelming sense of well-being. As he slowly moved about the sunny sky the wish to remain hovering for the rest of his life was overwhelming. But ever so-slowly he began to drift towards the ground. And a desperate attempt to muster all the strength in his thoughts to stop the landing was for not.

 

Once the ground was touched Jimmy tried as hard as he could to return to the sky, but it was useless. He was grounded. “Why can’t I fly anymore?”

 

“Because you need to wake up now.”

 

“But—”

 

“Yes, I know, but now is not the time. Wake up Jimmy.”

 

Jimmy’s eyes popped open and he quickly sat up. Rubbing the sleep from the eyes he saw the priest before his brother and then hugged their dad. Following his brother out the door, Jimmy saw the silhouette of the dilapidated cistern and saw John approaching from the light of the full moon.

 

“I’m afraid,” whispered Jimmy.

 

“Of the tidal wave?” the voice asked.

 

“No. I’m afraid of here.”

 

“Oh really Jimmy. I find that funny.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I’m here Jimmy.”

Imprint

Text: James Gerard Burch
Images: Right to use purchased from Ig0rZh-Fotolia.com
Editing: James Gerard Burch
Publication Date: 09-15-2015

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Dedicated to those who wondered where was He in your darkest hour when He was trying to tell you it's a bright sunny day--and it's 12 o'clock noontime.

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