Writing for Fun
May 2018
Definitely Maybe - Pete Norman
‘I’m in love!’
Jonathon did not look up from his book as his brother came into the tent. ‘Who is it this time, Michael? Some acne-ridden, prepubescent bimbo like the last one?’
‘Yeah, alright, she was a bit grim, wasn’t she? But no, Heather’s a right goddess. She’s got red hair like fire, goes right down to her bum and she’s got bazookas like bazookas.’
‘Well, I am certain that I will look forward to meeting her.’
‘Look, don’t get all snotty on me, yours ain’t that bad either.’
‘Mine? Oh, if you’ve chosen one specially for me I definitely can’t wait to meet her.’
‘Yeah, well and don’t you bother thanking me, like. Tracy ain’t as gorgeous as Heather but she’ll do for you. Blond – just like you like ‘em. She’s a bit younger but she’s old enough for, you know . . .’ He put his hands on his hips and thrust out his groin to emphasize the point.
Jonathon sighed. ‘For a virgin, you don’t half talk big, little brother.’
Michael coloured up. ‘I ain’t no virgin . . .’
‘Ok, have it your own way . . . which I reckon is about as far as you’ve ever managed thus far.’
Michael huffed. ‘You wait, you’ll be laughing on the other side of your face when I bring her back to the tent – and when I do you’d better make yourself scarce, like, I don’t need no audience.’
Jonathon smiled and returned to his book but he was not destined to have any respite – Michael was in full flow.
‘I told the girls we’d meet ‘em at the ‘tombstoning’. High tide’s at 11:00.’
‘Where on earth do you pick up words like ‘tombstoning’, Michael? It is called cliff-jumping, it has always been called cliff-jumping and it always will be, except, perhaps, amongst you and your cronies.’
‘Well, Mr. know-it-all, I bet you don’t know where it is they’re jumping from.’
Jonathon rested his thumb on the line of the page he was reading and said, ‘It’s above the harbour and it’s called ‘Bog’s Ledge’ because the jumping point leads through a gap in a wall alongside a disused public toilet. Everyone who has ever been to Newquay knows that.’
Michael snorted. ‘Well, I’m gonna be there even if you don’t want to.’
‘Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll be there – I wouldn’t miss this for the world.’
‘Yeah, an’ it’ll impress the girls, like.’ He took up the stance. ‘The brave hero takes a deep breath, throws out his arms and makes a daring leap of death into the chasm of the unknown.’
‘You mean the dumb kid jumps forty feet off a cliff, screaming and flapping like a demented seagull and hits the ice cold water at 50 miles an hour. You’ll most likely break your stupid neck.’
‘See, you don’t know everything, Mr Cool, you’re supposed to jump feet first and it’s called a straddle jump, ‘cause you put one leg forwards and the other one back to slow you down as you go in.’
‘Oh, nice one – so when your wedding tackle hits the water there’s nothing to cushion the impact.’
Michael scowled. ‘You can’t put me off – I’m a definite, me.’
‘I think I will put you down as a definite maybe.’
‘And you’re a definite loser ‘cause you’re too chicken to jump yourself.’
‘I reckon I’ll be more useful waiting for you by the ambulance.’
When Michael stormed off, Jonathon allowed himself fifteen minutes of blessed silence before be set off after him. The harbour was only a short distance from the camp site, a pleasant walk in the summer sunshine and within minutes he was walking out onto the cliff tops. There was no sign of the red-haired goddess or of her younger sibling but quite a sizeable crowd was already making their way towards Bog’s Ledge in readiness for the high tide. Most were dressed in shorts and garish t-shirts but the more serious ones were dressed in wet suits – these were clearly the survivors of many previous high jump events and Jonathon seriously hoped that his kid brother would wimp out before he took what he himself had aptly described as a ‘daring leap of death into the chasm of the unknown’.
He knew that there was no way he could ever dissuade Michael from anything once he had set his mind on it and on this occasion there was the added incentive of impressing some naïve young thing with his prowess. Jonathon hoped that there would be room in the ambulance for an extra three passengers.
As he approached the world renowned toilet he caught sight of a tall and rather attractive redhead chatting to a younger girl with blond hair. ‘Hello, you must be Heather.’
The blond girl turned and smiled. ‘Oh, hello, and you must be Jonathon.’
‘Yep, that’s me. Have you seen my kid brother? Short kid, scruffy brown hair and a bit pimply?’
Heather laughed. It was a warm and sensuous sound. Her eyes locked on his and he felt his heart begin to flutter – he could immediately understand why Michael had been so enthusiastic.
‘Yes, I have seen him. He said he wanted to check out the drop zone before it got too crowded. Do you think we ought to go and find him?’
‘You mean before he hurts himself.’
‘I know, I don’t think he realises quite how big a drop it is, poor thing.’
His brother was indeed at the drop zone, leaning on the toilet wall and staring into space and looking quite concerned.
‘Hey, Michael, still here? I’d have thought you’d have jumped long before now. What are you waiting for, eh?’
Michael spun around at the sound of his voice. ‘What? Oh, yes. I would have but you see I thought I’d wait for you to go first – you are the oldest, after all.’
Jonathon smiled. ‘I thought maybe you had chickened out because it was such a long way down.’
Michael puffed himself up. ‘It is a bloody long drop but that’s what makes it so perfect. Heather’ll be so impressed.’
Jonathon took a tentative step forward onto the jump point and peered over the edge. ‘I’ll give you that, it is one hell of a long drop. Don’t do it, Michael, it’s not worth the risk.’
Michael sidled up behind him. ‘I always thought you was a definite loser, Jonathon.’ He put his hand in his brother’s back and pushed hard.
He laughed as his brother hit the water fifty feet below. A faint hint of a familiar perfume behind him set his senses racing. He turned to see the goddess Heather right there, smiling that perfect white smile.
‘Hey doll.’
‘Hey Michael. Are you going to jump too?’
‘No way, Jose, after seeing how hard he hit the water I’m a definite no now, it’s suicidal.’
Heather reached out and ran her fingers across his chest. She smiled and then she gave a gentle push . . .
As she watched the dumb kid fall forty feet from the cliff, screaming and flapping like a demented seagull and hitting the ice cold water at 50 miles an hour she grinned. ‘You know, I always had you down as a definite maybe, Michael.’