He followed her, unseen. She climbed the trail slowly, expertly finding her footing along the incline of the dirt trail, shifting the weight of her backpack every so often. Gone was the melancholy, replaced with resolved determination as she climbed towards Potato Harbor. He arrived at the top shortly after she had and for the first time his attention diverted, stolen by the panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. He’d been to and seen many places, all manner of grandness and beauty, but it was that spot, tempered with Anne’s graceful stance, that he deemed to be the most beautiful.
He watched curiously for what seemed like hours as she stood still, ensconced at the edge of the cliff like a statue untouched by time. He thought back to where he came from, his own home tethered to this life. He thought of the people who lived around him, those he engaged in conversation with, those he smiled and laughed with, and he could not recall one that compared to his brief exchange with Anne. The idea that her beautiful face and keen attention was concentrated only on him was exciting. She couldn’t possibly tell the difference between the truth and fiction in his plans, or have known that he was there on that boat for a decidedly different purpose. And yet, much to his surprise, she had changed the course of his day.
His mood descended from the light as he watched her take that first step backwards, followed by second and a third. For a moment he stood dumbstruck, waiting and hoping the conclusion he’d immediately jumped to was false. He had seen in her an unspoken desire to irrevocably change her life, but in the moments of watching her in secret at the foot of the cliff he had forgotten them. It became blindingly obvious that she was having her final moments, her last steps, and he knew that she could not end that way.
Evan’s instincts gnawed him from the inside as he watched her feet move forward instead of backwards, carrying her with increasing speed over the final few feet of the cliff. There was no time to consider the consequences of his actions. She used the force of her motion to launch herself over the edge of the cliff until she was high above the ocean. Her arms stretched out to her arched back, and with her face turned up to the sky she was floating as if suspended in time. Gravity pulled her half the distance between the edge of the cliff to the crest of the water, and without full consideration of what he was about to do, Evan followed her, his own strength and speed propelling him close enough to grab her so that she was tandem in his arms. Seconds later his feet touched the grainy sand of the beach shore and her body fell limp in his arms, her head hanging back in unconsciousness so that her neck stretched out unnaturally from her torso.
He breathed in relief. She was not dead.
Chapter 3: The Impossibility of the Life of Anne
She hadn’t expected the weightlessness to unburden her from her sorrow. In that moment when she was free in the air, before gravity took her, she felt wholly emancipated. The feeling of her smile finally reaching the corners of her eyes made it easier to accept that it would be her last. And yet, it was the unmistakable if not completely impossible feeling of another body behind her, arms catching around her torso with great force that robbed her of that last sensation.
Through the disorienting haze of unconsciousness she felt her body being lowered to the ground and the rough grittiness of sand as it molded around her back and shoulders. Whatever afterlife she’d gone to seemed remarkably like the life she’d left. The air around her nostrils was fresh and laced with salt, and the warmth that radiated on her skin felt exactly like the sun. Some part in her mind felt a twinge of annoyance that the afterlife so many people spent their lives pining away for was no more special than the ordinary world of everyday life. What a waste, she thought.
Except... how could she have the thought? She had willingly jumped knowing that the fall would take her life, whether by the weight of the ocean above her or from the rocks on the way down. Yet she had no explanation for feeling that someone had caught her between leaping and landing. Impossible.
Her mind went to each extremity, internally checking for any clue as to her condition. Toes curled, leg muscles stretched and pulled beneath skin, her chest rose and fell with the intake of breath, all ten fingers accounted for and unscathed. Everything was perfectly normal when it certainly ought not to be.
It took a moment for her eyes to open fully as they adjusted to the bright light of the sun. The same blue sky she’d looked up to her entire life was there, the occasional cloud languishing about. There was the unmistakable sand and grass that covered nearly every inch of the East end of Santa Cruz Island. She was right back where she started, on a sandy beach a short distance from the dock she’d climbed earlier that day. It’s too quiet, she thought to herself. As she moved to lift herself up from the ground she realized the eerie quiet was in her mind. Autonomously she shook her head until an uncomfortable pop brought the sound of atmosphere rushing back into her ears.