Hi, Charlie!

WRITE ABOUT THE VIEW FROM THE HILLTOP

I stood with Keith on a ledge at the top of Gooseberry Falls, looking down at the forest of red maples and oaks, it was quiet, save for little animals skittering in fallen leaves, it was beautiful, but I was afraid of heights.

Keith said to me, “Are you sure you need to go into treatment, you’re not that bad, Shara.”

I looked at this man I’d met three months ago, what did I know about him? I’d met him at a bar one night, and in the light of day, I saw an old man with white hair, but I didn’t care…he’d offered to take me to treatment and I accepted. Now, I saw something strange in his eyes.

“Yes, I need to go, Keith, and so should you.”

“Uh uh, not me, I don’t need it, I’m going to miss you, though.

I looked around, no cars but Keith’s in the parking lot, and I didn’t see any hikers.

“Come closer to the edge, Shara, you’d have a better view,” he urged.

“No, I don’t want to, let’s go.”

I’d heard that people sometimes have an urge to jump when in high places, not me, I’d heard about a lady visiting Yellowstone, they say she was pushed off the railing, no railing stood between me and the abyss.

Keith made one step closer to me and reached out his arms, “We’ll go together, Shara.”

“No we won’t,” and I gave him a shove with all my strength, and heard his screams all the way down, it was him or me, but who would believe me.

I sat down by a tree, far away from the edge of the cliff, what to do, what to do, my hands shook, I could use a drink, but hadn’t brought any liquor. If I took the car and turned myself in, no, it would be my word, if I drove to the Canadian border, I couldn’t produce registration in my own name, and the Mounties would call Keith’s wife. Only one thing to do, stay here for a month, sleep in the car, I could think no further than this. My suitcase was in the car, a lot of goodies were in the trunk that Keith bought me.

Each day passed like a year, at first I had fun communing with nature and writing down my experience. But I had no human companion, the quiet, the thoughts whirling in my head about Keith, I heard his screams in my sleep and when I awoke each day, I was bathed in sweat.

One night, I awoke to grunts and something pounding on the car window, I turned on the interior light and saw a bear. I hadn’t remembered to keep food trash picked up, I had to get out of here. I got into the front seat, started the car with shaking fingers, but in my haste to get away, I put the car in forward motion, instead of reverse, and I accelerated. Oh no, I don’t want to be down there with Keith, no, God, please aaaaaaaahhhh.

State troopers and highway patrolmen, plus local police searched the canyon at Gooseberry Falls, “Well, whadda ya know,” they said to each other, "we finally found Keith Carradine, and got a serial killer off the streets."

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Charlie, I write a variety of things, so don't be shocked when I write about murder. There's always a moral to my stories. I have a great many to edit, so a lot of them won't make their way here, because they will be put up for publication, if I'm lucky.

~ Jean