We were finally going to go to the river again, to spend time with family and friends, to enjoy another day of summer, to go swimming. Who knew the day would end in misery? A day so lovely and filled with memories would be haunted by that one thing.
The day was hot, the skies were blue, the wind was mellow, the sun was bright, it was a perfect day to be there. You could feel the anxiety in the car to get to the river, the anticipation. You could hear the hum of the radio below your parents’ conversation and the gleeful conversation of the kids. It was a peaceful day, it was vacation, it was summer.
We are the first to arrive; we pick the best table, with the best view. We were only three families, but still a large group. The view from our table was one of the best, the distance from the river, the play ground, and parking-lot was about the same. We wanted the best view, the best distanced table, and we got it. The parents said it was in order to keep an eye on the kids, so that they could be safe. It didn’t matter to us kids we were at the river with friends.
The view is never appreciated, but it is known. You can see the bridge, the river running beneath it, and the trees with their deep green shades providing a habitat for the wildlife, and yes a perfect view of the kids that would soon be in the water.
The kids know the routine, help the parents unload everything and take it to the picnic table. After that is done you are free to go play. Oh and play we do. The younger kids stay by the shallow end of the river, they know the danger of those calm looking waters, their parents tell them. The older kids know too, but they want to swim. That’s what we do. The water is cold, but when you want to beat your friends into the water, who cares?
Oh yes, the water is freezing. The deeper you go in the colder the water, but the blissful warmness of the sun helps. The teasing and joking around makes everyone want to beat each other to get into the river and to the other side. But we still remember the warnings our parents tell us, that even though the river looks calm, it can be dangerous. With undercurrents that can sweep faster than you know, with coldness that can cause cramps, or just the river, the water, the deepness. So we cross, with caution, taking care of each other, working with our arms and legs.
The smaller kids play in the sand; they make bridges, castles, motes. They try to catch small fish that stay in the shallows.
Our parents call us to go eat, but we want to continue being in the river. With its cold water surrounding us until we no longer feel the cold, but the feel of the water. Till we no longer feel the fear of the dangers, but the thrill of the game.
The day passes in this same fashion, swimming, eating, the guys playing soccer, the kids playing in the sand, the parents speaking.
In the end we all end up in the playground, on the swings and see-saw.
It feels as it should, the shadows of the night are starting to appear, its dusk. The trees that once provided shade for the wilderness now provide shadows for the night. Without the suns warm rays of light the rivers’ water now appears eerie, dangerous like our parents said, like the depth of a horror movie. We never expected the news. The sorrow of hearing what could happen, all because of the river.
We saw the car at first, a police car. They were common at this time of the day because the park was going to close. We were one of the last groups of people left at the park. We were almost done packing everything up when the cop got out and asked us about the river.
He asked us if we had seen anyone on a small yellow boat on the river. It was supposed to be a man, a big man, a grown up. This was surprising, because no one had been in the section of river for a while. It was almost night time and we hadn’t seen anyone in the river for a long time. The cop said to keep an eye out and to have a good night.
There was surprise on everyone’s face, with wonder, worry, fear for what could have happened to that man.
We didn’t know him, but there was worry. We looked, saw nothing, found nothing, there was only the river.
The river that was used for one’s pleasure and others misery. We wondered what could have happened to the man. Went home wondering if we would hear of this incident on the news, all because of the river. A river that looked so inviting for our fun, a river that could very much take a life if messed with. A river that is good and bad, calm and violent. A river that has life, but can very easily take it.
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Dodge Park: Sandy, OR Poem in memory of a time at the river, Summer 2010 |
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