Friday, February 4, 2011

Getting Lost - Melody Cryns

It was one of those cool, summer days in San Francisco – I was around 11 or 12, can’t remember which, so it had to be around 1968 or 1969. I still remember that day as clearly as if it was yesterday, when me and David Hirrell set out on an adventure at Sutro Forest, the forest of eucalyptus trees that rises up above the massive UC Hospital right up the street from where I grew up.

For some reason, it was just me and David that day – he could be the meanest kid in the neighborhood, but sometimes he could be the nicest. He stood almost a head taller than me with his sandy blonde hair and dark eyes offset in his chubby face. Sometimes he made me so mad and he was mean to me, and I was mean to him too. But today we were having one of our nice days.

I still remember walking close to David, our bodies touching many times – but neither of us doing anything about it. It was probably the first time in my life I felt that weird connection with someone that was more than just friends, just a tiny glimpse, though.

I don’t know where the rest of the gang was that day, the Solis boys, my brother and sister or even David’s little brother Barry. I just remember it was me and David – and we decided to take off on this journey hiking up at Sutro Forest on rugged trails, sometimes right along sides of perilous cliffs on the hillside. I had picked up a stick and used it to crash through vines and as a walking stick of sorts.

As David continued onward, both of us suddenly realized that we might be lost.

“Where the heck are we?” I said to David.

“I dunno!” David shrugged. He didn’t even seem to mind that we were lost.

So we continued to walk onwards, our bodies touching from time-to-time, our sweaty hands almost clasping but not quite – here I was with the biggest, meanest kid in the neighborhood. These were tender moments. I knew it, but I dare not say anything about it as we trudged onwards because it might break the magic spell we seemed to be under that neither of us could explain.

Suddenly when we were really, super lost in the middle of Sutro Forest, high above the rest of the world, the north part of San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge stretched below us beyond UC Hospital, David stopped. He pulled out a scout knife and made his way to a eucalyptus tree close by.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he began to carve on the tree.

“You’ll see. But hear me now,” David said all dramatic and everything.

“Yes?” I tried to keep from laughing.

David didn’t say anything for a few moments. I could hear birds chirping, but all the sounds of the city were far away and muffled here in this forest that we were lost in. I wondered if we’d be able to find our way out or if we were destined to wander these trails until dark. What would be do? Camp in the forest? Would anyone be able to find us?

“Okay, there! But you’ve gotta promise, you’ve gotta swear!” David said, moving away from the tree, “Before you see this.”

“Before I see what?” I tried to peek around David, but his massive body stood in the way.

“You’ve gotta promise never to tell anyone about this – swear to secrecy.”

“Okay, okay,” I laughed.


“No, for real.” David sounded all serious. He used his bossy voice even. It’s the first time I’d heard that voice all day.

“Okay, all right.” I crossed my heart. “Cross my heart, hope to die, poke a needle in my eye!”

David seemed satisfied with this, so he moved aside so I could see what he’d carved into the tree.

He had carved a huge heart on the tree, and the in the middle of the heart were the distinct words, “David & Mary were here.”

I didn’t know what to say. I knew that was special, that it somehow meant something and I understood why David swore me to secrecy. “Whooooo!”

David looked right into my eyes and I looked back into his. “This is just between you and me, okay?”

“Yes, I understand,” I said.

Then David actually grabbed my hand and pulled me along, “C’mon, let’s keep goin’!” He said. I held on to David’s hand for as long as I could. It felt warm and inviting even though we were both sweaty. The other time David had grabbed my hand was that day we went to the beach and I almost got swept out to sea by this huge wave – our mothers had warned us about the undertow at the beach, but had we listened? No, of course not. I remember how the wave had knocked me down and I sputtered and spit water out because my face fell right into the salty cold water, and just when I thought for sure I was a goner, feeling the pull of the ocean, I felt a hand grab mine. “Grab on!” David had shouted, and he’d pulled me right out of the water. I was convinced he saved my life that day.

As we trudged onwards, I didn’t want to let go of David’s hand. I wanted to hang on forever because as long as I held on to David’s hand, it didn’t matter if we were lost…

1 comment:

  1. What I love about this one is how connected you are to your child's voice and child's perspective. You really capture what it feels to be that age, and to be a bit in thrall to the mean boy. Fabulous dialogue as well!

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