The Last Drop

As younger children (myself about age 12, justin 10), we are gathered together with my family - pops, grams, grace, mom, talking about the most legendary family stories.
There's the story of pops and his twin painting their neighbor's car, of mom's dog peanut getting stolen by the crazy lady, and others.
'I've got one!,' Justin pipes up, 'the 'Last Drop''.

Transported now with no narration, we are by the sea, my mother, brother and me.
We are on a castle, an old black fortress standing high above the water. We peer over the side, about a 150 foot drop to the water, the stones stones flaring out like a long skirt.

As is his nature, baby Justin (now appearing as the rambunctious 3 year old) flings himself over the edge of the castle with the death-thirsty glee of a toddler-sized evil knievel. 10 exact seconds of panic as we watch him fall into the water.

My mother, quite uncharacteristically, does not cringe. With a ferocious strength and no words, she crawls over the side of the castle and jumps off into the water in a swan dive that looks like a dagger sticking the sea.

Landing safely near the foot of the castle, Justin's striped shirt is visible under water. He's holding on the the fortress, but not with much. She swims under to grab him and resurfaces in time to be seen by a man on a ski-jet. The man is weathered, with red skin and a lion's mane of sun curled blonde hair. a Poseidon. The steers his jet around for a while before picking them up.

Back to our family room, I rush over to Justin and hug him, glad he's alive. 'It's called 'the Last Drop' because I was on my last drop of breath' he says and we all swell with love.