Page 2 of Jumping In

I look around the campfire and down the hill to the creek where the swing sways in the breeze and think about the only one missing from our little group. Mac is likely working at his dad’s auto shop as he has been for the last three years. We haven’t talked in nearly the same time, but Blake and Austin mentioned Mac plans to keep working at the shop.

The sting from the campfire smoke makes my eyes water. It seems like tomorrow my entire world is changing, and I’m filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement. This is that metaphorical jump into the next chapter of my life. At least it’s one jump I’ll take.

Chapter 1

Mac

Four years later - May 27

“Shit, shit, shit!” I murmur to myself. My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel on my Chevelle as I race out of town. Flicking my eyes to the rear-view mirror, they catch sight of the contraband in my back seat. “Fuck!”

“What were you thinking?” I ask absolutely no one. This can’t end well. Barreling out of town with stolen goods and a black ski mask in the backseat, I’m guaranteed to get pulled over. I can only hope whoever does pull me over will go easy on me. I don’t even know the consequences for stealing, but I’m quickly adding more charges to my name as I hit criminal speed on the freeway to Cedar Bend.Damn it!

My mind races through potential scenarios, all of them ending with me in jail. I think about my family, all the work I’ve put into the shop, and how quickly it could all slip away. For what? Why? The elephant on my chest seems to have doubled in size, and my grip slips on the steering wheel.Rubbing the sweat off on my jeans, I start naming things I can see. Lane lines. Blue van that I just passed. Cactus. Speed limit sign. Shit, yeah, I’m definitely getting a ticket for speeding. My heart races again.

I continue down the freeway and start to see cars heading in the opposite direction flash their lights at me. Finally! I press down on the gas as I come up on the state trooper parked on the side of the freeway. Sure enough, the trooper flips his lights on and pulls up behind me. Letting off the gas, I pull off to the shoulder and put my Chevelle in park, turn off the engine, and place the keys on the dashboard. I roll down my window with the hand crank, and then place both hands on the steering wheel as footsteps approach. Looking to my left I curse silently.

“Hello, Officer Clayborn.”

“Alexander.” He tips his head in acknowledgment and then proceeds to ask me for my paperwork. When Officer Clayborn returns with my papers in hand and doesn’t return them, I know I’m completely fucked. “Alexander, are you aware of a robbery that took place at Henry’s liquor shop about an hour ago?”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. When I open them again, I glance in my rearview mirror, again landing on the contraband in the backseat. Clayborn notices and follows my gaze. He raises an eyebrow, and I nod in confirmation.

“Yes, sir. I’m aware.”

“Please step out of the vehicle, son.” Sighing, I do as I’m told and overhear Officer Clayborn calling back to the station. “I have the suspect in custody. Matches the build anddescription. Car description matches what Henry described as well.”

I shake my head, looking down at my feet as I place my hands behind my back. The slap of metal against my wrists makes me wince. It’s not the first time I’ve been cuffed but it hits different this time.

Chapter 2

MJ

June 7

Sweat trickles down my leg as I exit the freeway, heading toward my hometown. I’m ready to be home after driving for three and a half hours and making only one stop halfway through. Crawling down Main Street, I slow down my Jeep from highway speed, appreciating how the mid-afternoon sun illuminates all my favorite spots.

The diner on my right, next to the small grocery store, is bustling with people who are having late lunches. There are one or two cars parked in front of Henry’s liquor store across the street, and a few more are at the gas pumps next door. Next to Henry’s, Hal has his door open and if I looked hard enough, I could probably see Shannon wiping down the bar top, getting ready for the Friday night crowd. I should have probably let her know I was coming home today but things have been a little awkward between us since I’ve been gone for so long.

The open grass area in the middle of Main Street forces me into the roundabout, but I can see the large projection screen being set up. It’s the first Friday of June, which means Movie in the Park is being set up for the first showing. Oakridge has many small-town events, but the Movie in the Park is one of my favorite events in the summer besides the Fourth of July Parade.

Before taking the exit that would lead to my parents’ house, I glance further down Main Street and spot cars parked along the street in front of the bookstore and coffee shop. There’s no one behind me, so I take my time guiding my Jeep through the turn, trying to get a peek at the auto shop. I can’t see much, just a few cars parked on the side of the road and then the small hill that leads to the bridge.

Past the bridge are more shops that cater to the tourists Oakridge sees in the fall and spring. Although we don’t have a hotel in Oakridge, we are the perfect pit stop for tourists to get their small-town fix, just thirty minutes away from the large hotel in Cedar Bend. I always loved tourist season because it brings so many people to our small town, but there’s something about coming home at the start of summer when it’s slow and quiet that pulls at my heartstrings.

Upon making the last turn onto the dirt road that will take me home, I appreciate the view of the mountains beyond Oakridge. Rolling down my window I take a deep inhale of the fresh air. The smell of pine which fills my nose is a welcome change compared to the smell of exhaust in the city. When most people think of Arizona, they think of the southern parts filled with sand and cacti, but up here, wehave mountains covered in pine trees and lush forests. We even get snow in the winter months which keeps the creek nice and chilly until mid-July.

Smiling to myself, I pull into the driveway, my tires crunching the gravel beneath. My legs feel like Jell-O, and I almost fall out of my seat as I hurry to sink into my mom’s waiting arms. The wind whips her green dress around us, and I inhale her earthy scent that reminds me of home.

“My Peanut is finally home.” I squeeze her tighter and then step back as she places her hands on my shoulders. “Let me look at you.” Shaking my head, I indulge her while also taking her in. A golden glow emanates from her skin, and she wears her dark hair secured in a jaw clip. Mom spends her days working as a hygienist at the local dentist’s office, but if you ask her, her genuine passion is gardening. Fridays are her days off, and she’s likely spent most of her morning in her garden

“You act like you haven’t seen me in years. Just a few months ago, I was home after my spring break trip. And you just saw me at graduation last week!”

She scoffs. “First, you were home for maybe ten minutes after your trip to Mexico with the girls. Second, you were so busy during graduation that we didn’t get to spend quality time together.”

I laugh thinking about the whirlwind trip with my girlfriends that was supposed to be our last hurrah before graduation. It was a fun time getting out of the city and away with them, but toward the end of the trip, I regretted not coming home to visit. Honestly, I’ve missed my parents andthis small town, especially after four years in a big city. When I graduated high school, I felt like this place was stifling, and I was ready to spread my wings. After four years away, I missed Oakridge and everyone here.

“Okay, that’s fair. But I’m home now for three whole months.”

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