by Renee Hesch
Leap
The ledge crumbles beneath my feet. The harder I grip the faster it weakens.
Between me and the other side is a pit. A deep, bottomless pit. I close my eyes,
and take a deep breath, but I can’t move.
I search for my spirit guide, but George Lucas is busy.
The one thing in life I fear is the unknown. I need to know that my paycheck is direct deposited every Thursday evening at ten o’clock. That my class schedule doesn’t vary from Monday and Wednesday 9:00 to 1:15, and that my daughter’s bus arrives promptly at 3:30 giving me just enough time to fit in a twenty-minute nap.
I don’t own a Fedora or a bullwhip.
I’m not searching for the Holy Grail.
But, somewhere in my heart I want to believe that love conquers all; good will overcome evil; and there is actually a chance at happily ever after.
I keep replaying the scene where Indiana Jones says, “Only by leaping
from the lion’s head will he prove his worth.”
But, I’m terrified of falling.
And I fall.
I’m a victim of debit card fraud, my house is foreclosed on, I’m offered an assistantship but lose it because I fail a finite math class, I’m kicked out of grad school, I can’t find a job, I can’t get unemployment, and I’m forced to live on child support and food stamps.
Then I stand on my front porch and scream.
“I’m not Indiana Jones, I’m only a single mom.”
And in that moment I leap off that crumbling ledge over the deep, bottomless pit and grab the other side. Slowly, I lose my grip.
“Renee, give me your hand.”
I’m too afraid to let go.
“Renee, let go.”
George Lucas extends his hand to me. I let go of the crumbling ledge, securing
my hand in his steadiness. I land safely on the other side.
George Lucas whispers, “You are a single mom.”
I stand up, brush the dust off my jeans and answer.
“I am a single mom.”