“No quick movements!” I remind him.
Trystan lets out a sound of triumph, and my heart starts hammering in my chest with hope. The water is just above my knees now.
“There’s one solid chance if this boulder is lodged deep enough into the ground!”
“One chance is better than none!”
“I just need a little more…” I can tell he’s feeling around, trying to get his best grip. I concentrate on steadying my breathing so that I don’t wear out too quickly. The idea of having to start over makes me nauseated.
“Colin, I need you to stay steady. What I’m going to need to do is get my foot into the nook of this root. Then, if I can manage that, I will tell you to push up on your toes. Sounds easy, right?” He laughs, but I know he’s sweating bullets up there. “You didn’t have any cheerleading experience lifting and tossing girls high, by chance?”
I chuckle.
“Nope! Just looking up their skirts running by on the track!” I banter.
He laughs back.
“Seriously, though, you think you could get a good grip on a foot and lift me higher?! It’d be more steady than you rising on your toes, and it would give us a few more inches!”
“Fuck,” I curse, wondering if I can hold him like that. “I can try!”
“Okay, my right foot is the one you are going to be lifting! My left foot needs to wedge in between the root and the ground! Obviously, I’m going to use my right hand to grip the boulder and pull! Try not to drop me!”
Don’t drop him, but raise the tank practically another foot with nothing but my hands. Got it. Easy peasy. I snort to myself. Damn, I hope my upper body strength can handle this. It has to work. We’re out of options. I walk through the movements in my head, mapping out what my hands need to do.
“Let me know when you’re ready! We can’t go super slow, but too fast is bad too for obvious reasons!”
I start picturing football games and pep rallies from high school and college days on how the guys lifted their teammates in the air. They’d get their footing, lift them a small amount, then launch them up into the air.
“I think I’m ready!”
“You think or know?!”
“Fuck, Trystan, you thinkyou’djust be ready?!”
“Good point!”
“Lift your left heel gently!”
Holding my breath, I watch as he starts to raise his boot heel, which is totally going to leave a bruise on my shoulder, mind you, and I slide my hands under, feeling around for the best grip possible.
“Okay! Just a little test raise to check my grip! Just a couple of inches up, got it?! If it’s good, I’ll yell good, and we’re gonna go for it!”
“Okay!”
I lift, and it’s good.
“Good! Go for it!” I push up with all my might, grunting against the strain, and fuck! It. Hurts. I growl through the pain and hear Trystan doing the same as he lifts his left leg and works to wedge his foot in between the root and what looks like rock.Please don’t snap…
“Hold steady!” Trystan yells through what sounds like gritted teeth. If I think I hurt, I can’t imagine what’s going on with his body right now. Sweat and rain pour down my face. I put every ounce of concentration on my two hands holding up that heavy-ass boot with the grips from hell. I am still thankful for those grips from hell. My tennis shoes would have slipped right out of someone’s hands for sure.
Trystan gives a wild yell, and I feel his weight push off of my hand. I suck in another breath and pray hard as I prepare to catch him if he comes back at me, holding onto hope like a lifesaver raft.Please, God, don’t let him fall. Let this work!
“FUCK, YES!!!” he hollers in triumph as his body disappears over the edge, and I let out my breath, the bridge of my nose stinging, my heart still hammering with hope. Also, a ton of pride. We just did that. I can’t even believe it.
“You good?!” Trystan hollers down from above, keeping back so he doesn’t end up back down here.
“Good! Get Mark! Do not fall on those rocks!”
