Seventy Five . . .

Attractive Nuisance

By Stormcat

By such a beautiful trestle over Loco Canyon, heavy

locust timbers safely translate the weight of the

heaviest of the heaviest trains through tried and

tested structure to the canyon floor. Seventy three

feet below the track, the dark surface of a deep pooled

stream beckoned fisherman and swimmers alike to take

the not so gentle hike and reap the reward thereby.

No one knows what year the diving started

demonstrative manhood testing from one of the eleven

cross supports or the top itself. Jack-knifes, cannonballs,

gainers, swans n flips from the lower perches, jumps

feet first from the upper. Each leap point referenced by

number "Did you hear? Steve did a cannonball off four

last Saturday but then, not to be outdone, Rocky did a

seven without shoes." (Rubber soled, worn to stop the

sting of breaking the surface tension.)

Finally someone did a twelve! Then twelve

was the only number worth gossip.

"Someone's gonna get hurt!" complained the

old timers outside Loco Village's local "Or

worse . . .

      killed!"

There were some accidents . . . "Jackson got

drunk, fell on the slippery wet rocks, and shattered

his hip bone, had to have surgery for three hours, now

he has a plate, pins and screws holding it all." "Mork

slipped and fell climbing up past three. Caught a nail

and gashed his back wide open. Sam pulled him

out n stopped the bleeding. Took 23 stitches!" But then:

"Mark Wilson got Mayor Colby's daughter, Jamie,

pregers the night after after doing a twelve" That's when

Dave at the regional office talked to the attorneys.

Attractive nuisance they called it! The Railroad has

a duty to "warn and protect" even trespassers

at least of the innocent category!     Strict liability?

Signs were posted!      The hiking trail blocked!

The fisherman complained! The tourists complained!

But the bar had been raised . . .  and the teens?

They still jumped!

Witnesses were essential, events were planned now!

Who? What approach? Should it be photographed?

So the railroad put up a fence!

Chain Link! Stretched across the top between

the electrical poles, seven feet high, attached to the

ties at the bottom supported by pipes at the top, Still

the jumpers climbed and jumped.

Now the top number was thirteen!

So fence was extended . . . twelve feet of chain link

with three strands of barbed (or should I say razor) wire!

Motion cameras, placed along the trail, tied

to the local security office, reported any breach.

Finally . . .                      the jumping was stopped!

But the legend lived like a war cry

Legend holds strong motivation to seekers of manhood.

Achilles' spear-kill thrown from beyond vision

and for a loco boy     to jump from, never before

attempted, fourteen!

                          Off razor wire no less . . .

Christian's father was in the Air force. But he lived

with mom off mill street in Loco suffering the stigma

of divorce and poor. At fourteen Christian was secretly

in love with Valerie the most gorgeous, long haired

sassy girl a fourteen year old could ever imagine

Valerie occupied Christian's every thought. When

called upon in Biology class to name the frontal bone

of the skull, Christian answered right out loud "Valerie."

Everyone laughed and Valerie blushed.

But love was not to be a given for them . . . Christian

needed a quest! An act of ultimate bravery solely

performed for the purpose of proving his undying love

for the girl of his dreams. And in a small rural setting

such as was Loco there was only one possibility

Christian was destined to be the first . . . Fourteen!

"For Valerie!"

Once realized the quest took on a life of it's own . . . 

everyone seemed determined to make it happen.

Of course only those "in the know" were aware of

the plan and what a plan it was. Finally the date was set.

Friday . . . June . . . Thirteenth . . . Early afternoon,

when Bish Janko, the security guard who monitored the

trail cams at Loco railroad station would be out on

vacation. No one would be watching but they'd come

in from the top, anyway, where there is no trail, “just

to be sure.” Both Blake Brown and Josh Ramsford

volunteered to video the event although neither had

ever even had a conversation with Christian before

becoming “his best friend.” No one knew anything but

anyone who was anyone was going to be there!

Valerie told everyone that she didn't care what

Christian did, "He can break his neck for all I care!"

she declared. But with all the pressure from friends

and classmates she ultimately decided to attend

"Just to watch!"

The morning of the thirteenth was quiet for Christian.

He slipped into the stables where he worked on the

weekends and borrowed a thick saddle blanket to lay

over the razor wire. He reviewed the plan, in his mind,

with all the advice he's been given about keeping his

elbows in, holding his nose, and pointing his toes so

that he wouldn't hit bottom. He considered whether this girl

was "worth dying for" and decided that living without her

would be like dying anyway. . . He imagined his father

flying jets in the war and thought he needed to maintain

the image of the lone warrior protecting the one he

loved, or at the very least demonstrating his courage and

commitment to do so. Even as the hour drew near, even

as the anxiety escalated, even as the fear threatened to

subvert his resolve, Christian remained undeterred.

Never had such a crowd gathered before . . . Christian

looked in awe through the chain link even as he climbed.

The saddle blanket was thrown over the razor wire array

and the process of climbing on top began. He could hear

the hum of electricity surging through high tension wires

just a few feet over his head and he felt the hair stand on

the back of his neck as he ducked his head in response.

Suddenly the saddle blanket covered razor wires gave way

under his weight. He felt himself teeter on the edge, loose

balance, and instinctively grasp for anything

to stabilize himself.

For anyone who has ever experienced a moment of

impending disaster, where instinct takes over and the

conscious mind ceases to control, it will be recognized that

a person is never smarter or more rational that in those

moments. Whole new plans are contemplated and

rejected over and over in milliseconds until finally an action

is enacted. This was one such moment for Christian. Here, the

natural desperate act of grabbing an energized electrical wire

was at the last minute replaced with the realization that this

was not going to be a jump from fourteen

but a dive from fourteen

by a boy who had never done a dive before in his life. The

crowd below gasped as Christian prematurely left that perch and

watched, as if in slow motion, as the falling body slowly

realigned itself midair until, head first, back arched, it cut

the surface of the water as a knife through whipped cream.

To say that a hush fell over the crowd would be a gross

understatement. It was more like dead silence. No one

was even breathing. All eyes were fixed on the dark surface

and the seconds passed like hours. It was as if everyone had

died and life itself was waiting for Christian to reappear;

such that, a giant collective sigh was audible when his

head broke the surface, and everyone realized that they

had witnessed the birth, 

however reluctant or intentional it was, 

of a living Loco legend. . . .

                                       “for Valerie!”

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