We arrived at the river and stripped down to our swimming gear.
He ran towards the water, confident in his decision to make the dive. He flew through the air, smiling at the expected coolness of the water on the 90 degree day. He angled his body down, face first – in anticipation – and then hit the water. But when he came up, he was no longer smiling but snarling, because he had not expected such a shallow point of contact.
With his upper lip cut by the top row of his teeth, we applied emergency “stitches”. Being over 100 miles from home, and being young, we found no reason to leave to find help. Somehow – with pure luck? – we found super glue in our car, and that served its temporary purpose. After a few minutes in the blasting sun – to quickly dry and close the torn, fleshy wound – we swam in the river until our limbs would not support us even in the shallow areas.
As we drove home – exhausted and sun-kissed – we knew that we would always remember the day that our dumb ass friend cut his lip open in the first five minutes of our day trip to the river.