No Trespassing

A (mostly) fictional piece written for Creative Writing.


We were traipsing around in that area behind the “No Trespassing” sign and flimsy string of barbed wire that was supposed to keep people out. But it was a public park and we were allowed to go wherever, right? So I followed the two of them over the wire and across the field of tall, brown grasses toward the patch of trees in the distance. Kyle wanted to know what was on the other side of those trees and I figured that I could better dissuade him from this side of the wire than if I was to hang back and wait anxiously for their return. Besides, the walk would warm me up, I told myself, and it was freezing. About a minute into the makeshift forest and he looked back at me, saw my face, and let out a loud bark of a laugh.
“Oh, come on!” he said, grabbing my hand, “we’re not doing anything wrong by being out here. Besides, who’s around to catch us?”
The Park Ranger, I wanted to reply, but the warm pressure of his gloved hand intertwined with mine kept me silent.
We kept walking that way, us holding hands and his best friend DJ bringing up the rear. Reaching a thinner spot in the trees, we were able to see what was on the other side: a downward slope covered in more of the same tall, brown grass as before and more trees at its foot. We shared a look, both disappointed that our discovery didn’t match the vague imaginations of hidden cabins or lonely ruins that we had been constructing on our walk.
“Hey guys! Check this out!” we heard DJ shout from somewhere to our left. We took off at a sprint and quickly found DJ, standing about five feet from the edge of a sharp cliff that dropped at least three stories down to a small creek in a gully. It was really quite beautiful in the crisp February light.
Kyle and I looked at each other, him grinning more mischievously than Puck, and he walked straight to the rock face that jutted over the edge of the cliff. I didn’t see what he was intending to do until it was too late to know what to say to stop him.
“Dude, we don’t know if that’s safe!” DJ said, expressing what I couldn’t, “it could just crumble under you, bro, and then what’ll we do?”
Images of him tumbling over the edge and into the chasm below filled my mind; my heart shot straight through my stomach and down into the frozen earth beneath my feet. Then another scene played out in my horrified imagination – us being airlifted to the hospital and me hysterically trying to explain to the medics why we were in a “No Trespassing” area of the park.
“Please, please just come back,” I blurted, a mix of fear and protective instinct shaking in my voice.
He looked back at us then and, locking eyes with me, hesitated for a moment. But then he squared his shoulders, steeling himself, and turned away and sat on the rock, legs hanging rebelliously over the side of the cliff.
“I just want a front-row view, guys. Calm down!” he said, not looking our way.
I didn’t know what to do. I just walked back and forth in the clearing behind him, trying to busy myself so I would forget that he was one misplaced foot away from crashing down a cliff.
  Fifteen minutes of eternity passed before I saw him get up, brush the dirt off his pants, and walk away from the edge. DJ had given up ten minutes ago and was off climbing a tree somewhere, but I hadn’t, couldn’t have, given up my vigil. He walked toward me, carefully watching my face as he approached. I glared at him with as much disapproval as I could muster, turned sharply on my heel and marched away. A quiet chuckle from him behind me was all I heard in response.

Walking faster, I internally berated myself for giving him exactly what he wanted – my attention. I had revealed to him throughout that whole episode exactly how much I cared and I hated him for it. A rustle behind me of quickened footsteps and then a hand linked with mine. I stopped abruptly, pulling him to a standstill beside me, looked at our hands, and then up at the small smirk spreading across his face. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to smack the recklessness off his face and throw his hand away from me. But I couldn’t.

I returned to my brisk pace and he paraded along beside me, triumphantly continuing to hold my hand and silently attempting to break through my frustration. After another minute of marching, we could see, through the thin screen of tree branches and dead leaves, the open field and parking lot beyond where AJ had perched himself on one of the stone posts of the barbed wire fence. He appeared to be whittling a stick that he must’ve spotted on his solitary hike but who knew what he was doing, really; DJ did whatever he wanted to. This sight seemed to spark something in Kyle and he tugged my arm, drawing me to a stop.
Resting his hands on my shoulders, he dipped his head to look me straight in the eyes.

“Look, I get it – you’re pissed. But how long are you going to be mad at me for?”

I glared at him incredulously, and turned to stomp to the car, but he stopped me.

“Hey, ok, all right. I was an idiot. It was reckless and you were right. All I wanted was a better look at that gorgeous view. Sue me – I’m sucker for pretty things,” he said, reassuringly rubbing my arms, an arch smile dancing on his lips, “I’m sorry I worried you.”

His smile said it all; he wasn’t sorry one bit, except maybe that I wasn’t talking to him. But still, for all the effort in the world, I couldn’t stay mad at him. I smiled begrudgingly.

“Whatever, bro,” I teased, shoving him hard.

I’d caught him off-guard and he stumbled back a few steps before regaining his balance.

“Better not start something you can’t finish,” he said, grinning and advancing toward me.

I darted away, and then off we went, chasing each other toward the car in the distance, our chorus of laughter warming the frosty air.