Then they walked along by the riverside.
The man and woman were walking separately and Cowboy, his pit bull, was on his leash at his side.
Suddenly she half-crashed into the man, almost knocking him over, then pulling him back toward her with her strong, powerful, small arms while Cowboy jumped around on the end of his leash and watched the show.
“I’ll never let you leave me!”
His heart grew like the Grinch’s. But he was also terrified. The dog smiled his pit bull smile as Beauty, the man’s name for her, and he were now laughing, hugging, and walking with the dog bouncing along.
Trees and undergrowth were everywhere along the trail. The river smell here was fresh, fishy and lively.
They came to a dam and the waterfall flowed from the dam. Lions from the Brookfield Zoo roared in the distance. A hunting hawk flew by lowly.
Cowboy stared at the water.
The trees were still green, except one which had flared yellow. Lonely tree on the riverbank undergoing the drama of change all by yourself, he thought.
Three teenaged boys were fishing near the dam.
“Hey kids!” she shouted at them.
The three teens, all holding fishing poles, looked up at them where they stood on the trail above. Beauty waved down at them.
She stripped down to her dark blue bra and panties or maybe it was some sort of bathing suit and waved again.
The kids, himself, and Cowboy were all astonished as she jumped out onto a concrete abutment that jutted out over the dam.
The heavy sound of the rushing river and the wind in the trees, cicadas whirring, crickets and bird calls.
She began to walk out onto the concrete abutment holding her arms straight out at her sides for balance. Her wild green eyes were deadly serious.
She was climbing high in her bare feet. Now she was out on the edge, on the tip of the abutment, suddenly.
The concrete ledge she stood on was about a foot wide. The drop down into the rocks from where Beauty was now standing was at least twenty feet.
If she fell, something horrible was sure to come of it, of course. Highwire walking without a net and a show you didn’t wish to see.
Cowboy was watching her closely. He barked out a single, quiet, muffled bark.
She didn’t appear scared at all as she now raised one leg up high so that she was balancing there in the wind on a single leg, arms out at her sides, twenty feet in the air.
Isis stood there so high with the wind gently blowing back her thick, long, lovely, wonderful-smelling red hair above the Des Plaines River in Illinois.
She hugged the thin air like she loved the illusion of the nothingness it gave her, and was prepared for absolutely anything in this temporary world.
“That’s rock and roll!” one of the kids shouted out. All three were holding fishing poles and not fishing.
Another kid yelled out, “Hey lady, be careful up there!”
She pretended to fall, and the kid screamed like a girl.
She placed her arms at her sides and began to walk, backward, all the way back down the concrete abutment.
When she got to the end, close to the ground and the grass, she did a little backwards hop, then turned to the kids and took a low, awkward-seeming bow.
The three kids were shouting happily, laughing and high-fiving each other.
When the man looked again, somehow Beauty was already back in her red top, cut-off jeans shorts and sandals.
She hugged him. She nestled her head into his chest, then bent down and petted Cowboy, who turned his head and licked her face and wagged his tail.
I can’t think of anything more important than this.
Image: Concrete walkway above a fast flowing river from google images
literally stories 
Dale – this is superb. I read it twice as I wanted to delve back in for more. There is a depth and a distance in this writing in that it gives detail and nuance, but also leaves plenty out (the second being a sign of confident and successful writing in my opinion). I love the descriptions and how Beauty’s swim entrances those around her, and yet it all seems a metaphor for something much much bigger, which leads to that perfect final line.
When I read others writing I can’t help but map it to other writers, and this is no exception. I got a strong sense of John Cheever in this one (whose short stories I’m a huge fan of), but also it reminds me in some way of Jon Fosse (who writes with a great deal of intended repetition – which you don’t seem to have), in that the story is a vignette into something higher, mightier and something that speaks to the human spirit.
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Paul
Thank you so much for these truly great comments, you described perfectly what I was trying to do in this story, if I had doubts about it you’ve explained why it’s okay!
And I’m amazed at your literary wisdom in detecting the John Cheever influence!
I don’t read his work too often any more, but at one point in my earlier days he was one of my all-time favorites. I repeatedly devoured such texts as the short novels BULLET PARK and FALCONER and short stories like “Goodbye, My Brother,” “The Swimmer,” his letters, and many other of the stories.
Some of his very best stories are some of his least known works.
Thank you so much for resurrecting Cheever (reminding me of him) in my own mind. This is, truly, mind-blowingly good literary detective work and it makes me feel like I’m seeing an old friend again, truly.
Dale
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A lovely moment, nicely captured!
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Thank you, Steven!
I tried to elevate this moment in the same way that Beauty elevates herself!
Dale
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I really enjoyed the pace of this and the images were so very clearly painted that I was there, watching with bated breath. This is the sort of action that we very occasionally take and it lives with us for long afterwards. Unless, of course, Beauty is a wonderful free spirit and this is the sort of thing that is in her life all the time. I really enjoyed this, thank you – dd
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Dear Diane
Thanks for the reference about painting images, and I’m really glad this little tale kept you in suspense!
I think this is a rare and occasional moment for Beauty that will live as a special incident/memory for all involved (but also that she probably has these kinds of moments a little more often than the rest of us….).
Thanks again!
Dale
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Hello Dale
Heights bother me, so this one placed me on extra edge, which helped the story even more. Cowboy is unlike most animals in that he was an important character yet not Rin Tin Tin. The muffled bark was a perfect choice for his line. Beauty is a show off in both nature and this person. That’s the way it should be; perfect last line.
It’s great to see a new story from you!
Leila
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Leila
Thanks for letting me know the Cowboy character came off well in this. He’s the only one who appears under his real name. He was a 105-pound pit bull mix rescue puppy who lived with me 10 years. I was just as close with him as I am now with Boo.
I even happen to believe that Boo is Cowboy come back again! Something in their eyes is so very similar….
I’m happy to have another story on Literally too. Fictionalized nonfiction prose pours out of me to the point where I have trouble even stopping it when I want to, sometimes.
But when I start trying to write regular fiction, I often freeze up, very weirdly.
This little tale went through at least 20 different drafts. The original version was much longer and didn’t work at all.
Awesome drawing AND info on Saragun Springs today!
Dale
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Hi Drifter
Replying here because WP is annoying. Yes, Jack draws very well indeed. Back in the 80’s he sold single panel cartoons to magazines like True Detective. No real money in it (twenty-five dollars per, I believe), but it was pretty cool.
Leila
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Hi Dale,
The simplicity of the first and last lines is a lesson to all of us. Nothing needs to be over-complicated for the sake of it!
Loved the description of the Pit-Bull’s smile. I think only a panting Staffie comes close!!
An excellent snapshot of a free spirit and those who appreciated her!!!
Stay happy and healthy my fine friend.
Hugh
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Hi Hugh!
I used to think one had to write long and complicated sentences in order to be any good.
Then one day I suddenly woke up and realized how SIMPLE were the words of so many of my favorite writers, like Hemingway, Bukowski, Dylan, Springsteen, etc. And: “To be or not to be.”
And I could have saved myself a lot of trouble because I’ve always been pretty good at putting together a simple sentence. I became an avid letter writer to friends and family at a very young age.
But then I realized one also needs to know WHY one is saying what one is saying, if one has decided to be a decent creative writer.
That one took a little longer to figure out, but I never stopped trying!
Thanks for putting this story out there, totally appreciate it, and thanks for talking about the pit bull smile!
Dale
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Hi Dale
I could immediately feel the tension in this high flying act.
The concrete details anchored the story and lifted it! How they first crashed into each other brought out a lively action. That seemed very real to me. Great image!
Whenever three teenagers are gathered it’s a recipe for conflict. Also a high dam.
The smell of the river was an excellent detail! Many excellent images!
When the MC stripped it was a sensual and shocking event.
If there is something high, be it a railroad trestle, water tower, concrete abutment–you can find a daredevil that is going to try it. It’s a great idea for a story!
The red haired lady reminded me of the high flying woman, strapped-in, pulled by a speed boat, gliding over a river in the story “Work,” by Denis J. In your story she (who is a wholly different character) has taken it a step further and is doing the circus act in the wind.
The wind blowing is a great detail; it adds to the tension and the height of the peril. The tension is so strong that I could feel it like I was one of the teenagers! That is a great accomplishment!
I liked Cowboy in the story too. He was painted very well!
In such a dark world and sometimes the dark world of fiction, a bright light shines in this story. I think that is a major accomplishment!
This story reflects life. Life’s sudden moments of glory that flash before us and will be remembered for a long time! The things we talk about at family gatherings. The teenager’s high-fiving was an excellent touch at the end!
Great work! Masterful! Thank you! Now I have fulfilled my goal of reading one excellent story for the day! Just for the purpose of studying and enjoying the craft of writing!
Christopher
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Christopher!
You are a fourfold threat (in the good way) as an artistic presence: fiction writer, poet, visual artist, AND literary critic.
Because your ability to analyze literary works while bringing your own personality and experiences to the table while doing so is amazing!
Your thoughts and perceptions rock, and your way of stating them with such originality, and clarity, is second to none.
You can write about fiction as well as you can write it, and that’s very well indeed!
I read so much Carver and D. Johnson back in the old days that it was eventually fully absorbed. And now the ghosts of their writing sometimes seem to hover within the world/s of my own writing when I don’t even know they’re doing so. And that feels pretty cool, when I suddenly see. It’s awesome that you can see these things. And say so. Thank you!
My kids took the train to Omaha and have been on the way back since 5a.m. so I have to head to Union Station in Chicago, but I’ll have more to say later today or tomorrow.
I used the word “GLORY” on Saragun Springs today in almost the exact same context that you’ve used it here; and that was before reading yours!
Brilliant literary synchronicity that would’ve given Carl Jung the chills!
Dale!
PS
Happy Labor Day
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Hi Dale
I was pretty excited yesterday to see your name lit up in lights on the Internet marquee!
Wow! Union Station is an amazing place! I have a story coming out that is almost based in Chicago. A big city anyway. I kind of wrote it not knowing where it was at, then added “Midway Airport.” so it sort of became Chicago.
That is an amazing coincidence on the use of “Glory.” I’ll have to check that out. That’s what I thought was so great about your story. How you examined glory! And that move you made at the beginning where they knocked into each other was brilliant! Action happened throughout, which as a writer and reader, that’s cool to see how this pushes the story. You definitely know what you’re doing!
I like your brave character very much. And you made her a her. She would be the one leading the Celts in battle like in “Brave-heart!”
Jung was a very interesting fellow! He was rather mysterious and not quite so overshadowed by Freud.
Christopher
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A vivid, energetic piece that captures love, danger, and playfulness all at once. The imagery of Beauty balancing on the concrete abutment is suspenseful and impactful. For me, the line “Lonely tree on the riverbank undergoing the drama of change all by yourself“ reveals there is much more going on under the current of the river … and the surface of the story.
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Dear David
Thanks for giving this story a great read. I worked hard to make this piece “show” (or hint at) a few of the unseen levels and layers of life. Your comment/s about what’s going on beneath the surface of the river (and the story) nails it.
Dale
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There was an old comic strip called “Out our way”. Some of them were labeled Days We’d Like To Live Forever. Note this is from unreliable memory.
The story reminded be of the comic strip which illustrated some of the simplest things are the best.
MM
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Mr Mirth
Thanks for an excellent interpretation of this piece that does it justice, at least from my own personal point of view! Deeply appreciated at all levels. Gotta run out the door in a minute, but more later from Saragun Springs.
Dale
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Dale,
An interesting and well written journey.
I remember having Beauty-like qualities that needed to be. Even when alone and often about water. Like swimming at night into the freezing Atlantic until I couldn’t breathe nor move my body. Now what? What did I learn? I’m still here. I still do things like that. (It’s embarrassing.)
This was a real TREAT. — gerry
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Dear Gerry
Coming from a man who can consume six beers a day minimum for 40 years plus with no apparent ill effects, it does not surprise me that you would swim out into the Atlantic in that manner, and your courage amazes, I myself am terrified of (and fascinated by) sharks and when I’m near the ocean I generally observe it from a distance, although when I was a youth I did pull a few of the same kind of stunts you mention in the great ocean/s, Atlantic, Pacific, and the Carribean Sea.
And I admire your courage and hardiness, and manliness, in all the above. Masculinity gets dumped on too much in this world. Manly behavior needs to come back. Not brute behavior, but manly. You are leading the way toward it, like Carver and Hemingway.
Thanks!
Dale
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Ah Dale, I was wondering if you wrote fiction as well!
I’m so in tune with what Paul Kim writes (he puts it so well). That feeling of distance, at first signified by the nouns & pronouns – the man and the woman – the kids – he – she – they – is actually superficial, because for me, the distance disappears and the reader feels very close. Indeed, I don’t know how you did it!
There is something in me that wants to see this – all as metaphor – and that Beauty did not really walk the ‘tight rope’ – that it was a walk of life – but you know what? I believe it could be true!
I like the references that others also had to imagery and painting. For me, during my first reading of the story I had David Hockney’s paintings in my mind; that flattened perspective and the simple unadorned colors he uses. Anyway I had to look them up to be sure – and yes that is what was brought to my mind. A nice extra experience reading a good story.
my best,
Maria
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In this world, you never know what’s going to happen next. This story was like a time machine, a precious moment stopped like in a snapshot, and a thousand words to fill the surroundings and background scenes in for the reader.
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Been away and catching up. Loved this, Dale. It reminded me strongly of one of my favourite novels – Colin Thubron’s ‘Falling’, about the MC’s love for a circus trapeze artist.
They say that all art ( literature, music, painting) has its roots in the human animal’s urge to play, just like lion cubs tumbling in the dust. Beauty’s performance seemed a worthy confirmation of that. bw mick
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