Gullies

This story is by Chris Pye and was part of our 2024 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

I lie in my hospital bed, thinking:

What if you were caught in a moment so exquisitely tight that you didn’t know there was a choice?

And what about those who feel a second chance isn’t possible? Or don’t feel they deserve it, even though people beg them to take it.

Like I’m begging you to take it. You, sitting close; holding my hand.
Please take it.

***

‘You had to. You had no choice,’ I say.
‘Of course I had a choice. If I’d really loved you, I couldn’t have done it.’
‘I wanted you to do it. I knew you really loved me. I made you do it. Because I loved you too.’

Crying. Both of us.
The nurse comes in to check. Reassured, she leaves us on our own in the side ward.

‘Please. Don’t leave me,’ I say.
‘But I did.’
‘Yet I’m still here.’
‘How can we ever be the same?’
‘But we are.’
‘Would you have done it?’

The room is quiet.

In the window,  a small butterfly trembles in time with the faint blipping of the monitor.
I scratch under my bandages and think about that day. Sacrifice? Self-interest?

‘Yes,’ I say.
‘You would?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can say that?’
‘I’m not brave. I’d know you loved me. I’d know you’d want me to do it.’
‘I would. Have you save yourself. I do love you. I’m so sorry.’
‘There you are. That’s all that matters, right? Please. It’s a second chance. Take it. Come back.’

More tears. Heads together.

No nurse this time, just beating hearts.

***

Over millennia, rainwater became a river. A river that eroded a path. A path that cut through moorlands, flower meadows, and forests. A river that eventually reached the limit of hard rock.

High Force Waterfall, North East England:
The river Tees thunders and squeezes desperately into the gully at top of the cliff. It leaps out like a wrathful water demon at the other end, over the edge, then down. Down into the gorge. Smashing into the seething rock pool below.

***

Jane hasn’t seen the Falls. But she says she’ll come! It’ll be a day out, just the two of us. We need some time together.
She’ll love it.

Frank’s been pining to visit the Falls. That’s what he calls it.
I eventually say: why not? It’s the middle of the week; he’s got the day off; he’s happy to drive, and I’m free. It’s been raining but there’s a bit of sun.
I could make a picnic.

Jane is happy for me to choose when the track from the car park divides. One way rises through woodland to the top of the escarpment, where the river runs over; the other leads below to where it crashes into what they call the cauldron.
We head upwards.

Frank holds my hand even though we walk single file up the path. I can hear low rumbling, growing louder with every step we take.
It’s a bit frightening.

Jane and I come out of the woods onto a wide ledge of flat stone. It straddles the escarpment as a sort of shelf, worn smooth by the water over who knows how long.
The river is low at the moment. I can see it looming in the distance, wide among the trees. As it gets closer, the water funnels into the gully.

There’s no-one else here, just Frank and me.
Frank is grinning so much the corners of his mouth seem attached to the fingers in his ears.

Jane is laughing at me for some reason. The river rams into the gully. So loud!
We walk out onto the flat area. The surfaces are slippy in patches. I shuffle to the edge so I can see the waterfall from the side and some of the churning pool below.
The force, the speed, the sound of water is almost overwhelming.
Jane is waving at me. I can’t hear her of course.

Frank is too near the edge. He will try and peek over. The edges look crumbly and there’s a lot of space below.
I walk gingerly towards him, motioning him back. He shrugs and peers over a little more.
I scream at him.
Frank hears me. I wave for him to come away.
He’s reluctant to leave the edge but he does, stepping on the driest parts of the rock like it’s a game.

Jane worries too much. The surface is a bit slick in parts, true, but no problem if I go carefully.
She gives me a big hug when I join her, and points back to where we emerged from the woods. I don’t want to go yet.
I haven’t seen enough. I want to look at the gullyy.
I tell her the river is low right now. This ledge of rock would normally be covered in water and the Falls much broader. The gulley itself would be immersed. So this is an opportunity.
We’ll just have a quick look.

Frank shouts in my ear. Something important about the ledge we’re standing on, but I don’t really catch it.
I want to go back down but he’s practically pleading. He takes my hand again and almost pulls me along, even as he tells me to be cautious.
The flat rocks are uneven with wet patches.

Jane is up for it.
The river compresses and roars. The gully is about the width of a tall human being. And it’s deep. We can see the surface of the water ripping by, a little way down from the lip.
At the far end of the gully, the river powers out and down into the awful pool below.
I can feel the energy vibrating in my chest.
I have to get closer.

Frank lies down and shuffles towards the edge of the gully, like he’s being drawn. I don’t like it. He’s staring over the edge.
The noise is disorientating.

I let go Jane’s hand and inch forward on my belly.
I feel the spray.
If I move a little more, I can touch the water.

What’s Frank doing?
He’s creeping nearer, reaching out with his hand; massaging the air with his fingers.
My heart leaps into my mouth. I want him to pull back.
He’s too close.

Jane is shouting something again. She can’t possibly think I can hear her.
I turn to look back up.
And see her stumble.

I’ve stepped on a slippy patch of rock.
The monstrous noise pushes me. I cry out to Frank as I fall and hurt my hip.
The rock slopes towards to gully.
And I start to slide.

Jane is wriggling like an upside-down beetle.
She’s slipping towards me. And the gully.
Her fingers scrabble on the smooth surface.
I swivel. Reach out.
And grab her hand.

Frank’s got my hand.
The cold water rips off my shoes. I’m being pulled round. More of me is sucked off the rock.
I’m up to my knees.
I’m going.

My hand is locked on hers.
Pulling. Pulling.
Jane’s nearly up to her waist.
We’re being drawn in. My other hand gropes behind me.
Nothing.
We’re both going.

The water sucks on my legs, my coat. It splashes into my face.
Frank is sliding now. I’m pulling him with me.
I see the fear and panic sweep across his face.
Our eyes lock. I want him to do it. Save himself.
He must.
Do it.
Now.
I see him mouthing.
Sorry.
He lets go my hand.

I see Jane flash away into the gully.
Gone like a thought.
Over the Falls and into the mayhem below.