That rite of teenage restlessness was a piece of cake, relatively speaking. Once the headache wears off, he’s going to face Hurricane Mom.

“His car is not even here, in fact,” Kim Parker said Wednesday afternoon while Beauchesne, 18, rested and recuperated in his room at their home in Lewiston. “The concert he wanted to go this weekend? That isn’t happening.”

Beauchesne’s near-death experience resulted in “only” a concussion. A LifeFlight helicopter transported the injured student-athlete to Central Maine Medical Center, where doctors held him overnight for observation and instructed him not to drive for a week.

Don’t worry, replied Mom. It might be longer.

Parker realizes her college-bound boy is legally an adult. She felt powerless to stop Beauchesne and eight friends from visiting an infamous, popular and, yes, illegal swimming hole on Granite Hill in Hallowell.

Quarterback takes over

“Oh, I knew where they were going,” Parker said. “And I said, Nick, you know how I feel.’ But, you know, he’s 18 years old.”

Yes, kids are kids, wired to attack summer with a joie de vivre that can’t be contained by speed limit signs or no trespassing admonishments.

“It’s an accomplishment to say you jumped off the cliff. Kind of a thrill,” said Tracy Bradley, soon to be a senior girls’ basketball player at Lewiston High School. “You get that knot in your stomach like when you’re on a roller coaster.”

There were nine thrill-seekers in all. Beauchesne, the former starting point guard on the Lewiston boys’ basketball team, did what point guards do and led the way, jumping first.

One of his buddies is Brent Dube, once a high school quarterback. And Dube ultimately did what quarterbacks do, directing the most important two-minute drill of his life.

How lucky is Beauchesne? Dube had never seen the quarry, but he knew his friends’ latest trip coincided with his day off from work – as a trained lifeguard in Kennedy Park.

He looked dead’

“I never had to save anybody like that before,” Dube said, “and here it was one of my best friends. I don’t even remember jumping in.”

Beauchesne, whose mom says he’s scared of heights, doesn’t remember his jump, either.

Bradley saw Beauchesne’s legs hit the water first, followed by his chest and head. He floated to the surface face down.

“We were like, Is he kidding?’ Then he disappeared,” Bradley said.

Dube made the 54-foot plunge next, locating Beauchesne at the bottom of roughly 20 feet of water with the help of friends who were directing traffic from the cliff. Seth Prideaux also jumped in and helped Dube carry Beauchesne’s lifeless weight to a more shallow area. By then someone had phoned for help.

Bradley, meanwhile, climbed down to a lower rock with another girl. They dove to help Dube and Prideaux hold Beauchesne’s body aloft until rescue personnel arrived.

His eyes were purple, lips blue, eyes hollow and mouth wide open.

“He looked dead,” Bradley said Wednesday.

One of the kids phoned Jake Girardin, an on-duty lifeguard at Kennedy Park.

Bearing bad news

Girardin then reached Parker with the ominous, secondhand news. Later, as Parker prepared her younger sons, Casey Parker, 13, and Alex Parker, 11, for a frantic ride to the hospital, someone called from the scene to say Beauchesne was awake, moving his feet.

Understandably, Parker wasn’t sure whether to choke the teens who were also involved in the escapade or hug them.

She settled for the latter.

“Brent Dube is a hero,” she said. “If he hadn’t done what he did, I’d be planning a funeral today.”

While Dube and Bradley say they’ll never go back to the quarry, they’re certain to needle Beauchesne in due time.

“Now that we know Nick’s going to be OK, it’s a campfire story for sure,” Dube said.

Parker heard that her son’s incident was the last straw, that cops plan to issue summons to any future divers at the quarry.

But Beauchesne must face the toughest judge of all.

“He’s going to the University of Maine on a full academic scholarship,” Parker said. “Then he plans to go to law school.

“If he lives that long.”

Kalle Oakes is staff columnist. He may be reached by e-mail at koakes@sunjournal.com.