Adventures of an Adrenaline Junkie

Icy blue water reflected the intense sun of southeast Iceland, as Ryder Lee Matthews gasped for breath in a rapidly shrinking air pocket under the Fjaðrá River. His mother Ruth warned him that the lack of impulse control was going to kill him. Seems like it was the one thing she was right about. RIP Ryder Lee Matthews, RIP Ryder Lee Matthews. What a ridiculous wordplay to roll through his head while submerged here in some forgotten river in the middle of Iceland. Ryder could swear he could her voice and feel his Dad’s warm embrace while he was fighting for his life under the riverbed outcropping. 

Ryder spent his life on the razor’s edge from the time he was in diapers. Just ask any of his uncles. Trouble with a capital T. Every single one of them. People often forget their good side, the way they took care of the kid after his dad passed away.

“Ryder? Oh yeah. Every time we took the gator out to cut down trees, he’d chase after us like a puppy until we scooped him up and threw him in the back.” chuckled Uncle Jerry. “That kid wanted to be around us all the time so I guess we are the ones that made him this way.” Flipping the spicy spiede chicken on the gas grill, watching the skin sizzle and steam, Jerry yelled to his brother. 

“Nick, hey Nick. Remember when Ryder started bodybuilding?” Ryders’s Uncle Nick ambled over to the grille, worn jeans, oil-stained t-shirt covering his sinewy frame. 

“Ya sure do. We caught him posing shirtless in front of Joe’s car window. What did you call him?”

“Elephant nipples.” Jerry uncapped his bottled water and took a big swig. “Picked up a machete that was on the ground and chased me around the yard with it. The more I laughed, the more pissed off he got. Sixteen years old. Right after that he took off and went cliff jumping in the gorge for hours. I swear he brought home some college girls to party with him. The kid could charm anyone.”

The sound of a growling engine spitting smoke interrupted their conversation. 

“Your son knows how to enter a family picnic, Nick.”

Ryder’s cousin Jonah pulled up in a late model Ford F150, the bed filled with bags of ice, juicy watermelons, enough beverages to chill a small army, and several sets of water skis and ropes. 

“Jonah, did you get more beer? Your Aunt Ruthie said she sent a text but–and I quote from her. That kid has his head so far up his butt I’m surprised he can use the toilet.” 

Jonah bounded out of the truck, a worn baseball cap perched sideways on his blonde buzz cut like a frat boy. 

“Aunt Ruth should get a life, Pop. Got better things to do than be her errand boy. Hey Uncle Jerry, remember when Ryder and I took off for Colorado with your truck. Man, me and Ryder did a week of base jumping on the Colorado River, then snuck into Mexico for some shark diving in Baja California. Good times. We even crashed a wedding in Arizona on the way home. Ryder hooked up with the maid of honor and the bride at the same time. Left me with the groom. Had to get him piss drunk, so he forgot all about his own wedding. That was a weekend to remember. I need to get in the house and grab the boy."

Ruthie, the family matriarch, made her way across the sprawling property, cutting across the dry dusty holes mixed with wet grass and overgrown pine trees. The tangy odor of grilling chicken, sweet corn on the cob, and clinking bottles wafted over the din of family and friends. 

“Jonah, that’s toddler crap. When I gave birth to Ryder, they should’ve given me and his dad Joe a manual. This kid broke the mold on normal. Couldn’t sit still in school, tipping desks over and punching teachers. Jumping into the Tennessee River while on vacation, building race cars, and running dirt tracks. Rescued him from more naked encounters with every girl in town. I saw more of his tanned butt than any mother should see. Broke just about every bone in his body with all the racing and jumping and dirt bike riding. Hell, even cut his scrotum skateboarding.” 

The rickety screen door opened with a loud bang as Nick pushed the door back to squeeze through.

Pushing him out the door in the hospital wheelchair, Ryder’s cousin Nick whispered in his ear and Ryder burst out laughing. Taking care to not hit his mangled right arm and broken cast left leg, Nick maneuvered him out to the crowd of family and friends waiting around the worn red picnic table and scuffed up camp chairs. Taking off his black mirrored Ray-Bans, he squinted, looking over the motley crew.

“I can’t believe you’re all here today. Mom must’ve threatened you all because I’m sure you’d rather be four-wheeling than looking at my ugly mug and one good eye.” His Uncle Jerry yelled from the back. “Ya got that right, elephant nips!”

“Thanks, Jerry. Seriously though. I thought I was dead and had already made peace with God lodged inside that cave under the river. Forty and my life was over and I guess I was ready. Ready to be done with all the pain from the past, the regrets, the people, the women. I guess what I’m trying to say is I got another chance and I’m going to grab life by the balls and live it. Not reckless, like the old Ryder. More like, well, more like my dad who cared about others, would give you the shirt off his back and loved you like no one else could. Now let’s eat because Jerry is burning the chicken.”

“Mr. Matthews, can you hear us? Ryder, Ryder. It’s the Icelandic Emergency Service. Please hang on. We are sending a team in. Try to keep calm.”