Her: I’ll give you a dollar if you jump.

Me: You’re nuts.

Her: maybe.

Kids lined up, one after another. A few adults, the crazy ones, or those with no fear. Maybe on their deathbed anyway. It was certainly hot out. The trek to the hole in the ground was not fun, along a road, I made the bad decision to carry the beach umbrella. I was optimistic there would be somewhere to plant it. My skin already had days and days of sun, it was turning a shade of pale coffee splashed with freckles. My hair was going blonde, something I liked. My feet had a permanent flip-flop tan across the front.

Her: flip-flops are no match for these rocks.

Me: i’m doing fine.

We sat and watched. Some people screamed, some dived, some did cannonballs. One girl slipped as she came to the edge, she was unsure of her decision, but she lost her footing and ended up going back for seconds. The little staircase carved into the rocks where the jumpers came back up was guarded by an angry man who didn’t let anyone come down that way.

Him: you have to jump.

Later, after we got our fill of the thrill of the big hole, we walked back up the street and had ice cream.