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Thirty-Four
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. Oh, bugger!” Ben hugged his knees and refused to look down from his perch on the huge black boulder rising from Heckscher Playground in Central Park.
He’s such a joker. Riley dusted off her hands as several little kids, all giggles and dirty knees, scrambled past on the forty-by-fifteen-foot rock. “Isn’t it great? Don’t you feel invigorated, climbing up here?”
“Invigorated—no. I think I might see that pretzel again.”
“Ben!” She adjusted her sunglasses on top of her head. “Come on, the view is better higher up.”
“Higher?” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “No, I’ll wait here, Hope.”
“We’re barely off the ground. This is nothing compared to what I used to climb…”
“Showoff.” His voice cracked.
He’s not joking. Shit, he’s freaked out. “Aw, Ben, I’m SO sorry! If I had known…” She put her arm around his shoulders. “Look, we can go—”
“Got ya!” He laughed, leaning into her. “I’m not scared of heights. Spiders? Hell, yes. Heights, nah!”
“You goof!” Riley gave him a friendly shove.
“See? I AM a great actor! I’ll be an Oscar winner in no time.”
“I believe it.” She laughed, her eyes sweeping over the playground’s splash pad at the foot of the rock. “Ah, I have so many memories here.”
“You really love this, eh?”
“Yeah. I learned a lot climbing these rocks.”
“What, like it hurts to hit the ground?”
“Smartass!” She picked at the tear in the knee of her jeans. “When I was eleven, Mom and I came to Central Park for a free summer concert. Such a weird day. Dad was marrying Clarissa that afternoon, so Mom brought me here for hot dogs, the zoo, a boat ride. None of it cheered me up, though. I was angry…heartbroken, like why bother? We were headed toward the subway and I spied this big old guy, Rat Rock.” She patted the dark stone.
“Rat Rock?” Ben’s eyes bulged. “Do I even want to know…”
“Its official name is Umpire Rock, but climbers christened it Rat Rock because it used to be crawling—”
“With rats. Ugh.” Ben cringed and closed his eyes. “Now I really do want down!”
She squinted into the sun. “I hadn’t climbed for, jeez, maybe two years? Bouldering was something I did with Dad, but when we walked past, this crazy urge grabbed me. Mom paused to check her voicemail and I went for it, clawing my way up the steep north side. I’ve never seen her get off her phone so quick. God, she was mad—I guess it was a stupid thing to do. That side is like a wall, and I didn’t have chalk or a crash pad in case I fell.”
Ben shook his head. “Chalk?”
“Climbers use chalk to keep their hands dry, for a better grip. Mom was yelling at me—‘Get down here right, now!’—but I ignored her.” Her fingers traced the rock, the touch quickening her pulse. “It all came back to me—which creases were the right size for the toes of my sneakers, where to stick my fingers. I hoisted myself up halfway, a good five feet, then I slipped…”
“Jesus, Riley!”
“Mom freaked, people stared. I was dangling by one hand. I wasn’t scared, though—I just remember feeling angry—angry at Dad for hurting Mom, for leaving us both, for marrying that stupid woman. I think there was a moment where I wondered, What happens if I just let go right now?”
Ben’s eyes widened.
“And you know what I realized? I’d be letting him WIN. He threw us both away like we weren’t good enough, and if I let go, I’d be proving him right, proving I was a loser and didn’t have it in me to climb to the top without him there. So, just as some guys said they’d catch me, my adrenaline kicked in and I shouted at the top of my lungs, ‘FUCK YOU, DAD!’ I used every muscle I had to reach up and across, got my hand into a crevice, and then I got my feet back in place, made it all the way to the top.”
Ben smiled. “I so wish we’d been friends as kids. We could’ve bonded, swearing about our shit dads.”
“Oh, I didn’t get away with that. I was grounded for a month. Mom threatened to wash my mouth out with soap. Never did, though.”
“So,” said Ben, patting the rock, “right here is where the feisty was born.”
