October 1989
The boys were climbing a vertical rock wall off of Bull creek. I twisted the stem of a yellow leaf between my thumb and index finger in a vain attempt to entertain myself. My boyfriend, David, had deposited me onto the girl mound while he ran off to conquer and conquest. I didn’t even feign interest as I listened to the girls talk of cheerleading practice and shopping. It sounded like a lot of nothing to me.
David was climbing.
I watched as one by one he and his friends carefully picked and pulled their way up, looking carefully for every foothold; their voices echoing across the creek as they teased each other with macho bravado whenever physically capable.
I was scared of heights. So I sat and waited, as minutes slowly turned to hours and the boys climbed higher and higher. But in my heart I was on that wall with them and the longer I sat there the madder I got. Why was I always left behind, while the boys got to have fun? Why hadn’t at least ONE of us girls gotten to climb? Surely we weren’t ALL scared of heights. We WERE all bored stiff though! Wasn’t being challenged better than this segregated designated waiting?
Before I knew what I was doing I was across the creek and half way up that wall. I was so mad I forgot to be scared until I was almost to the top. But soon I realized I was stuck. I searched in frustration as it dawned on me that my small frame was not physically able to reach the next foothold as did my 6 ft predecessors. Any move I made whether up or down would at the very least result in one or more broken bones. One of the boys peered over the wall and I heard my name shouted down the chain of command. I looked up coolly, hoping I didn’t look as doomed as I felt. I dub my fingernails into the precarious hold on the cliff wall and tried not to shake or look down. I heard David’s voice and another face appeared. They looked annoyed. He barked some orders at his two friends. They rolled their eyes resentfully from him to me, and I knew David and some archaic pecking order had designated they be the ones to stay behind and make sure I didn’t break my neck. I felt helpless and even less desirous of wanting to admit to them my current plight. It was no use though; Chris examined my position and discerned it immediately. He looked down at me and shouted back to his friend, sounding exasperated “We’re gonna have to pull her up somehow!”
They argued back and forth for a while. It sounded mostly like cuss words to me, but I didn't care I was more concerned now with staying in one piece than conquer and conquest (my fear of heights had resurfaced). Finally it was determined that Chris's 6 ft something 200+ frame was going to be lowered down to me, while the other guy held his feet, then he was going to pull me up. I didn’t catch all of this of course until he was already hanging upside down over the face of the cliff, reaching his hand out to me and demanding I take it. I thought he was crazy.
Taking it meant letting go of the wall and counting on their hair brained plan. No thanks. "What’re ya gonna do... jump?" he yelled, perspiration gathering on his forehead. I hesitated just a second but knew neither of us could hold on there forever. So I took a breath and grabbed his hand. In an instant he hurled me through the air like a rag doll and deposited me at the top.
The two got up, dusted themselves off and looked sideways at me sitting well away from the edge of the rock. I was clutching my knees and shaking. Inwardly acknowledging my place, I forced myself to meet his gaze, but as I did, tears came to my eyes. “You made me feel small” I said, quietly. Chris replied in a matter of fact voice “You are small” as if it was most obvious statement in the world and the sooner I realize it the better. I looked at my feet frustrated and defeated and searched for words. Before I could find them though, he mumbled something about PMS and took off after the rest of the boys.
I sat a while thinking and waiting for my shaking to stop, then rejoined the girls down at the bottom.