Jumper

A person doesn't need to remain in your life to have a lasting impact or influence. In fact, sometimes your presence in his/her journey is simply to bear witness and remember. So it was with Jumper. I was to be present in her brief time on earth so I could share her story with you.

Her real name was Maggie (not Margaret) Anna Sophia Bishop-Turner. A big name to live up to. She was given eleven years and in that span of time became legendary and perhaps a touch notorious.

Her eyes were the color of a blue moon and her hair was the color of beechwood, worn down by wind, air and rain so that it was a lackluster blonde. Her thin frame, however, was filled with boundless energy. I called her Jumper because the girl was fearless and loved to jump off of everything and anything. I, on the other hand, was scared of everything from thunderstorms to germs to crossing the street.

One hot summer day the air was so thick that it lay on us like a wool coat. Jumper was pacing in her front yard, hands on her hips, staring at me with a look that held love, anger and defiance all at the same time.

"Why not!!!!!!!!! You can't live your life like this, Sailor. I mean for goodness sake!!!!!!! We are ELEVEN whole years old, not five!!! For as far back as I can remember you've been a scardey cat! C'mon girl!! You're 'Sailor'; a sense of adventure should come naturally to you!!!!"

I couldn't bear to look her in the eye. Deep shame and embarrassment held me in its tight grip and controlled my every thought and action. I learned that my best defense was a strong offense and I began one now.

"Jumper, You're just a crazy girl. Sorry I'm not willing to die just to prove something to you. You wanna go, then go. And good luck to ya. Just don't come crying to me when you get hurt."

"Okay Grandma Sailor", she said. She turned on her heels and stomped off. She never looked back once.

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Ever see someone and they look so alive that light is literally reflecting off of them and creating a glow, like a halo, around them? That is the only way I can describe how Jumper looked when she came back from the river. Her jean shorts were still wet and her hair was plastered to her head, but she was practically floating on air.

"It was totally AWESOME, Sailor. I really wish you came. Don't worry. I'm not mad anymore. You know perfectly well that I can't stay mad at you that long. You're my bestest friend. So....do you want to hear about it?"

Now that she had given me absolution, and I no longer had to worry about being dragged along with her, I was more than happy to hear about her adventure.

"Sure! Tell me!" I tried to play it cool, but living vicariously through her had become the norm. Looking back I wonder if she knew that and sought thrills not just exciting enough for her, but grand enough to include me too, without diluting the experience for herself.

"Well, I swam out to The Cliffs. The current was kinda strong, but hey, no big deal for ME." She giggled, giddy with excitement. "Anyway, I made it to The Cliffs and scrambled up to the highest peak. I've never been there by myself so it occurred to me that the water might be shallow today. But I jumped anyway." Lowering her voice, she added, "Honestly, Sailor, that fear made it all the more exciting."

Up close I could smell the river and sweat on her. Her eyes were gleaming with intensity. I didn't know what to say. Something about what she said, and how she looked, took her games to a whole new level and it scared me. But I was eleven, so I simply said, "Cool".