Lurking On The Precipice

Mesmerized by the splendor of the Aztec sandstone cliffs under a brilliant blue, cloudless sky, Pari Malik leans back and rests her head on the monumental boulder.  She stretches her arms out to her sides, reaching as far as she can, and closes her eyes. 

The desert sunshine is pleasant on her eyelids, glowing a luminous red color in harmony with the rocks surrounding her.  Completely relaxed, Pari's imagination flourishes and she conjures up the appearances of majestic beings who thrived on this exact spot millions of years ago.  The pointed-headed marine reptiles called ichthyosaurs, as large as trucks, swimming with flippers like dolphins, prospered when the region was covered by a shallow sea.  Later, these cliffs were roamed by saber tooth tigers and giant mammoths and mastodons.

Here we are now, she ponders—humans, of relatively insignificant size, just four to seven feet in height—somehow presuming superiority over all previous forms of life.  What arrogance. 

Who will be resting on this boulder 180 million years from now?  Will she, too, assume ultimate supremacy and grandiosity of her species?

As a vigorous gust of wind blows through Pari's long brown hair and cotton t-shirt, she hears her mobile device sliding away from her.  Sensing that it is drifting toward the edge of the rock, she lunges for it.  Her fingers graze the side of the device and change its direction, but fumble and fail to clutch it.  Pari loses her balance and rolls down the steep surface.  She desperately attempts to clamp onto protruding surfaces on the boulder, to no avail.

Shrieking, Pari plunges headfirst over the cliff.

Roman Antonius, panicked, peers over the edge and fears the worst, while nearby tourists scream, having witnessed her fall.  One of them instantly calls 9-1-1. 

Thirty feet below, Pari is standing on her feet with her knees bent from the ferocity of landing upright on a canyon ledge.  She is looking up at Roman, astonished, and bracing herself with her hands on the serrated bluff just inches in front of her.

"You are alive!" he cheers.

"I think so," Pari answers.

"I thought you were certainly dead.  What happened?"

"Is my phone broken?"

"Are you broken?" Roman responds.  "Stay right there, Pari."

Roman confirms to the strangers nearby that his friend survived her fall and appears to have crashed below without sustaining massive injury.  He quickly and agilely climbs down toward her.

"Did your head strike the ground or any rock surface?" he asks.

"No," Pari replies, "Somehow my legs just flipped completely over.  I landed just like this.  On my feet."

"A miracle landing!  Or you have a guardian angel."

"I would love to believe I have an angel," Pari says, sitting down on a flat rock behind her.  "However, I can settle for having the most opportune luck and good fortune, at least at this moment."

Roman examines her legs, hips, and arms for any signs of wounds.

"Ouch!" Pari cries out, reaching toward her knee.

"What's broken?" he asks.

"I'm broken, Roman.  How idiotic of me to tumble overboard from being lost in a daydream."

"Nonsense.  Let's start with your bones.  Where are you hurting?"

"My leg got jarred, but I don't think it's fractured," Pari replies.  "I had my full weight on it just moments ago."

"Stand up, please."

Roman helps steady Pari on her feet.  She is able to take small steps forward and backward.

"I'm okay, I think," Pari says.  "Just sore.  And shocked."

"It's time to count your blessings.  That fall could easily have been the end of you."

"Wow, I went from bliss to peril in mere seconds," Pari laughs.

"Should we call paramedics to be on the safe side?  I heard a man up there on the phone with the police."

"No, I think I can rest here for a bit and climb out on my own.  Please go back up there and let the people know that we don't need emergency services."

"Will do," Roman answers.  "I'll be right back."

"Can you find my phone too?"

Roman returns to Pari and hands her the mobile device. 

"Not even a scratch," Pari says, turning it on with the fingerprint from her thumb.  "It's just dusty."

"It didn't drop.  It was still on the boulder."

"Thank you."

"The people up there are worried about you," Roman adds.  "Many of them are waiting to make sure you are alive and able to scale back up the rocks.  They all want to help you."

"There is goodness in most people," Pari asserts.

Slowly, with precise positioning of her hands and feet, Pari ascends the ledges.  Roman is below her, ready to try and help if she begins to slip or fall backward.

Glee and applause erupt from the tourists when Pari's smiling face peers out of the fissure in the canyon.  A young man and his father lift her all the way out and an elderly woman rushes a bottle of water to her.  Pari thanks everyone profusely and explains to them that the fall was her own fault.

"I was so overcome by this splendid place that I abandoned my senses and my bearings," she tells them.

Back in Roman's car, Pari drinks another serving of bottled water chilled from an iced cooler and shakes the pebbles and red earth out of her boots.

"Where to next?" she sighs and asks.

"Don't you want to go back to your casita and just recover some more?" Roman replies.

"I really want to see some petroglyphs today.  Can we still do that?"

"Sure.  There is another stop farther along the scenic drive and we will be able to spot a few of them.  They can be hard to find.  Are you still interested?"

"Yes, please," Pari says.  "I am very eager to experience them.  By the way, you should have taken my picture in the canyon.  A photograph would humbly remind me of my near-death experience.  Without proof, my mom and my friends are not going to believe I really tumbled thirty feet off a cliff and survived by landing on my feet."

Roman turns off his engine.

"Fine, let's go back and you can nose-dive again," he says.

"Too late," Pari laughs.  "The moment has come and gone."

They park in a designated lot a few miles north and east along the canyon drive.  A short hike over a dry creek bed and mountain wash full of colorful gravel brings them to a handful of walls at the base of a vast rock formation.  Roman points out a few petroglyphs, including a series of hand prints, some vertical images that could be stick figures of humans or poles, and some abstract shapes similar to the letter "H" and the figure "8" in various positions.

"What were they communicating?" Pari contemplates.

"I don't have any insight on that front," he says.  "I just know they are thousands of years old.  But, frankly, they could just be like doodles.  Something ancient people did when they were bored."

"Surely not," Pari counters.  "These are carvings and each petroglyph may have taken a long time to complete.  My guess is that these carvings are rich with meaning and purpose."

Roman turns toward her and folds his arms across his chest.  In the shade, even with dust in his disheveled dark hair, Pari can see why many women find her friend and landlord so attractive.  Roman's blue-green eyes are piercing and amiable.

"It's curious what you said back there after your phenomenal survival," Roman says.

"What did I say?" Pari asks.

"You said you were broken."

"That is a fair and honest self-assessment, Roman.  You know I am struggling."

"But you said you were broken," Roman challenges her.  "Shattered, wounded, or what?  Why use the word broken when there is really nothing wrong with you, except for what's in your mind?"

Pari reflects for a minute before answering.  She pulls her hair back behind her ears and leans toward him.

"You're right, Roman.  Broken is not the right word.  I was just trying to make light of the implausible situation."

"Of course.  I didn't expect perfect grammar and word choices at a time like that," Roman laughs.  "But indulge me a moment.  What is the correct word?"

"To summarize my problems?"

Roman shrugs his shoulders and his kind eyes patiently await her answer.

"I am astray," Pari says.  "I don't know where I belong.  I left a place I admire—Oahu—and southern Nevada does not seem to be the right fit for me either.  Not yet, at least.  I don't have any clarity on what I should do or where I should go."

"You are putting such a burden on yourself, Pari.  Do you really have to know all the answers already?  You are not even 21 yet."

"Not until summer."

"You can't be young and carefree and explore the world and all of the opportunities presented to you?" Roman asks.

"That sounds like your flight attendant training coming out," Pari quips.

"I'm being serious.  You can always return to Hawaii or Maryland.  You should answer my question."

"Okay, you are challenging me, in a friendly way, and I will try my best to share this," Pari says.  "I need to feel like I am making a difference, Roman.  I want to know I am doing everything I can to make the world better.  Less cruel.  Safer for everyone.  I don't know how to say it precisely and it is...