LISTEN

Our guide stood unyielding, giving us a brazen assurance that everything would be alright. There was a group of us adolescents, we had preservers and a boat, we’d be fine he said. The woman was ashore just further upstream, he would reach her in no time he said. He “said” many things before he leapt into the river, shifting the raft vigorously into the crag. We sat motionless, staring after him into the torrent of water.

                  I glanced at the vulnerable muddled faces around me, some were frantic, others still in shock. We knew nothing about river rafting except how to paddle. We had spent half of our venture doing that. Although navigating rapids without supervision and appropriate knowledge was a different matter. There were so many factors and circumstances; debris, currents, another person overboard…anything could happen. We felt unsafe, uncared for and alone. We were children, not to mention we had no provisions. We were not prepared and depended on our guide for the answer to the resounding question that kept crossing our minds. What would happen to us? How long should we wait until we finally brave the unknown?

                  We clung to the rocks as the onslaught of waves came in quicker succession. There were only a few placid moments to pacify our distress. We remained in the raft fighting the continuous abuse, waiting for our guide to return. He was our protector, then neglected us, the people in his charge, The minutes passed and we began to ponder and speculate about what had brought us to this predicament. Why us? Why were we left to fend for ourselves? What had happened to cause this?

                  We watched the raft ahead of us get tossed amongst the rapids. It fell in and out of sight, eventually disappearing around the bend. The emergency walkie talkie hummed as the other raft attempted contact. The voice said a person had fallen overboard. She had made it to shore, but was too paralyzed with fear to attempt to return to her raft. We were the only raft able to recover her with greater ease. As we coasted down the river we saw the woman high up on the mountain clinging to the cliff as we did now. Our guide told us we’d be fine and left to help the woman.

                  The time ticked by, the longer we waited, the more our worries increased.  What was taking so long? She had not been that much farther upstream. Were they hurt? This adventure started to turn from innocent fun into a tiring, horrid nightmare. Our endurance was waning with the constant barrage of physical and emotional torment. How much longer could we hold out? Was there anyone that could help us? Anyone seeing this abuse?

                   We finally all agreed we would leave in ten minutes to hopefully brave the rapids and reach the other rafts for help. Time was almost up when we heard a splash. We extended our paddles to our guide hoping he would grab on. Eventually he grasped my paddle and was pulled to the safety of our raft.

                  We were finally safe and able to navigate through the rapids with the proper supervision. After the rapids, we discovered we weren’t the only ones scared to brave the river. The woman had trekked the mountain with our guide to escape the trepidation the river had caused her, only to cause our own worriment to climb as the minutes passed by.