The Red Socks

Along with all the jewelry in the house, and now some glittery eyeshadow, I notice I am wearing the red socks.

They once went down a river with me.

That was about twenty years ago on a day I nearly drowned.

The Twisp River was swift and full with Spring runoff, and cold as glaciers.

My mate of the time and I had camped, and then hiked, and then come down the mountain across the river from our campsite. Though I know rivers and their powers, I underestimated, or simply foolishly misjudged, and thought we could wade across.

And we did, making it to a rock sand bar in the center.

And then, just as were nearly at the bank on the opposite side, the bottom dropped down, in an optical illusion sort of way, and the rocks on the bottom were slick. My mate, taller and stronger than I, grabbed a tree branch and hauled himself onto shore, just in time to turn and see the river grab me.

The cold immediately sucked the breath out of my lungs and while I was then tumbled into shallower currents, I was no match for it, and I would find later that I had torn all my fingernails trying to hold onto rocks.

As the river took me, I saw I had only seconds until it grew deeper and swifter and wider, and yet I had no choices. I was caught in the tight cold web of the water.

I felt the life force shoot out of the bottom of my feet.
My head was barely above water and all I was was one cold white eyeball, the eye of a cow I had seen almost drowning in films of migratory river crossings in Africa.

My mate was a super athlete, a runner and hiker who bicycled many miles every day and worked out at the gym religiously. He ran the riverbank along side me, behind me, and then burst into the water and grabbed me up out of the river by my hair and the back of my neck.

This was super human. And he did it. Have I thanked you enough R, for saving me that day?

And is this what has happened in my life? Have I used up my Nine Lives?

The weird thing was, in my hand I still carried the red socks, dripping wet.
From the rock island we had thrown our shoes onto the shore. For whatever reason I had held on to these thick red slipper socks my grandmother had given me, and all that time I was trying to get out of that raging wall of melted glacier water, one of my hands was clamped down on these socks.

And I see I am wearing them now.