“Oh, just a tip. I figured I better tip him now so that we get the best experience.”
“Did you tip my partner too?” I asked, looking between the instructors.
“Of course. It’s for both of them,” Easton said.
I thought about the tip and what it meant to have poor service from your skydiving instructor. This wasn’t the kind of service you would expect from a restaurant. This was my life. And I was about to jump out of a plane thousands of feet in the sky. “You tipped them good, right?” I asked.
Easton chuckled, “I tipped them real good.”
The full panic didn’t set in until we loaded onto the plane. There was only room for four passengers, Easton and I fit snuggly with our certified instructors.
“This is a Cessna 182, small but mighty. It’s the workhorse of skydiving planes,” Easton’s tandem partner said. A middle-aged man with a fit physique and a weathered face. “It will take us about twenty minutes to climb to 10,000 feet, and then we will jump.”
“You have twenty minutes to get it together. Are you ready?” Easton said, leaning into my ear.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Twenty minutes before I jumped out of a plane? Ready? Never . . . I shook my head. Easton grabbed my knee and squeezed it. His instructor went on about the plane's history, but as soon as the engine started, I no longer heard a word of it. My mind in another place completely. I sat still, my breathing shallow. Every now and again, my body would tremble. I knew I was afraid. Terrified even. But what exactly was that? Was it real? Make believe? Could I control it? Conquer it? I had no other choice but to figure it out because, in no time, my instructor stood and signaled for me to stand, too. I was really doing this thing.
I closed my eyes as my tandem partner secured us together. Strapped to my back was a professional. He had done this a thousand times over, and I had nothing to worry about. Nothing to think about. Nothing to do. I was merely along for the ride. Which turned out to be perfect, because my mind had frozen up again. I couldn’t be trusted with the smallest of tasks now. Not even breathing.
Easton’s instructor waved us ahead. I didn’t want to go first, but there was no verbalizing that, or anything else, for that matter. It was far too late for any request. We stepped up to the plane’s edge, and I lifted my head high, refusing to look down. The blood drained from my face as I turned to see Easton, his grin wide with excitement. He was handling this much better than when we went bungee jumping in Sin City. If I had only jumped that day, perhaps I would have found the excitement in this, too. I tried to swallow, but the saliva stuck in the back of my throat like tar. I wanted to tell Easton I loved him . . . just in case I didn’t make it. But my mouth, along with everything else, was beyond my control, and I could no longer speak. I vaguely heard my instructor talking to me over the Cessna’s hum, but I couldn’t process what he said. My goggles were tight. Too tight. It was the last complete thought I had before I was pushed from behind.
My shoes scrapped against the platform as I was thrust forward. My stomach dropped, making me want to curl in on myself, and my eyes quickly found the ground that I had refused to look at. Realizing just how far up I was, I wanted to scream, but I had no breath. No voice. I closed my eyes tight. The fear encapsulating me. Suffocating me until I couldn’t take it anymore. If there was such a thing as controlling the fear, I hadn’t learned it. Far from it. And I’d be damned if I ever gave myself another chance to try.
The wind lashed against my cheeks and flushed through my mouth, hitting the back of my throat and drying it out. I opened my eyes and saw another sky diver flicker in my peripheral vision before quickly closing them again. The ground was so far it made me feel ill, and I couldn’t think of anything worse than enduring the fear of falling to my death and puking all over my instructor. Though I wasn’t convinced that I would live to feel the mortification of it, I still didn’t want to die having it be one of the last thoughts in my mind.
My body trembled inside so fiercely my heart felt as if it were vibrating. Some may call it exhilaration, but I was certain I was nothing but petrified. When the landing approached at lightning speeds, I felt the sensation of being pulled backward. It all happened so fast, and I hardly understood it until I bravely opened my eyes and the fall had slowed down, giving my mind a chance to comprehend it all.
I looked around frantically at the world below. More and more detail coming into vision as the earth approached. I looked around me, trying to find Easton, but all I could see was a neon orange and blue parachute flapping in the wind and one other jumper. I looked back to the ground, bracing myself for the land. When we touched down, I was useless. My legs were soft as Jell-O, and my eyes scrunched closed until I was positive I had survived. When I was detached from my instructor, I fell straight to my knees and gripped the grass in my hands.
“Wow! Are you OK?” my tandem asked. I nodded, catching my breath. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to be sick?” he asked.
“No,” I said breathlessly. I willed myself to formulate a question, “Where is Easton?” I asked, looking up at him. My instructor stood, ignoring my question and nodded to the other jumper who had landed beside us.
“Hey, great jump!” the other guy said. I looked over at him, still on my knees like a fool. When he took his goggles off, I did the same, slowly recognizing him as Easton’s tandem. My brows pulled tight as I surveyed the grounds. Easton wasn’t anywhere in sight. What was going on?
“Where’s Easton?” I asked again. This time louder and more demanding. However, it came off as meek and breathless.
My instructor put his hands up, and my eyes shot to Easton’s partner. His eyes grew large as he stalled, trying to find the words. “He . . . he’s still with the Cessna,” he said.
“He’s what?” I hissed.
The men chuckled as they helped me to my feet. “Come on; you will see him back at the facility. He’s going to meet us there.”
“Wait, what?” I asked again, confused. I looked around, not seeing him anywhere. The realization crept into my head that I hadn’t seen him in the air either. My jaw dropped open as the pieces fell into place. He hadn’t jumped at all. “That . . . little shit,” I said beneath my breath.
The men laughed. I heard one of them mutter, “I wouldn’t want to be him in fifteen minutes.”
My heart still fluttering and my legs still wobbly, I crawled into the van. We had a quick ride back to where we started our training and back to where I would find my cowardly husband. I had no idea what I would do to him when I found him, but I knew one thing. He was about to experience my full wrath. I sat in the van stewing while the men chatted amongst themselves. And when we arrived, I saw the plane parking outside of my window. I watched as Easton climbed out with a smug smile, and my heart rate picked up once more. I wondered where my relaxing vacation had gone.
Easton and I locked eyes from across the tarmac. A smile spread wide across his face, making me even angrier. I strode towards him. All the fears I had previously had turned to rage. How dare he make me jump . . . alone. “You!” I came at him with my finger pointed.
“Me?” Easton looked taken aback. His smile faded with every step closer I got.
“How could you? Just leave me up there, all by myself? You! You! You . . . asshole!” I fumed. The instructors were laughing in amusement.
“Wow, wow, wow.” Easton held up his hands. “You do recall a certain bungee jumping incident where you begged me to jump with you? Right? And then, on the count of three, I was the only one propelling off the building? You do remember that, right?” Easton asked, eyes defensive.
I couldn’t deny it. Not with the instructors present, and not when we had talked about it that very morning. “So!” I fumed.
“So?” Easton laughed. “So . . . you started it!” he said.
Anger boiled under my skin, and I channeled it all towards him. “You’re going to pay for that little stunt you pulled, you know that?” I thrust my hand on
my hip. My arms still like Jell-O as I tried to look tough. All three of the guys were laughing now, including Easton. It only made me more furious.
“Come on. . .” He said, reaching his hand out for me.
“No!” I jerked back, swatting his hand away. I did the only thing I could think of at the moment. “You’re cut off!” I said.
All three of the guys stiffened. “Cut off?” Easton asked. One instructor looked to the other.
“From sex! How's that for a honeymoon?” I said.
The instructors howled with laughter, but Easton didn’t find it so funny. “Wait . . .” He said, reaching for me as I turned to walk away. “Wait! Beck, wait a second!” he called out.
I marched on, crossing my arms and ignoring Easton. It may have been a more dramatic exit if I had somewhere to go or a car to take me away. Instead, I stood by the side of the building, waiting for the guys to catch up with me and tell me where to go. When they caught up, the instructors sat Easton and me down to see the video they had captured, both from a camera on my partner’s wrist and one on the guy’s helmet that captured the tandem jump. I crossed my arms as they loaded the video and explained the different movie packages they could turn the raw film into. I didn’t need a video of me skydiving; I only needed to get out of this place and head back to my sanctuary. Maybe take a long walk on the beach. Alone.
“At least I was brave enough to jump!” I hissed under my breath.
“You were so brave, baby!” Easton tried to rub my shoulder, but I pulled away.
“I experienced it! And that’s more than you can say!” I said.
“You’re right.”
“And it was just like flying. It was amazing, and I’m just mad because you didn’t get to experience all the beauty with me,” I lied.
“Really?” Easton asked, shocked. “And now you know you love it! Aren’t you proud of yourself?” Easton asked.
“Yeah, I am! Are you?” I asked, in a snarky tone. I wasn’t proud of myself. Had I not been strapped to someone twice my size, they never would have gotten me out of that plane. I really had done nothing to be proud of at all, but fall ten thousand feet.
“Hey . . . It was just a joke. You can hang it over my head for as long as we live. Just like I’m going to do to you about the Sin City incident. But hey, you can cross it off your list now. Right?” Easton tried and tried to make it better.
“It wasn’t even on my list!” I snapped. Crossing my arms tighter as I let it sink in. I had at least been able to say that I had skydived. And I guess that was pretty neat. I’d done it. I didn’t like it, but I’d experienced it, nonetheless. And not many people could say as much. At least Easton couldn’t. Not today, anyway.
The video started, and I recoiled at the sight of my face. I hadn’t recognized myself. It wasn’t a face I was used to seeing in the mirror—white as a ghost and fear stricken. My cheeks full of air like a chipmunk as they flapped in the wind. And then… and then something happened. I leaned forward in my seat, closer to the screen of the TV. Easton burst into laughter as my limp, lifeless body hung from my tandem partner’s chest. I had passed out. And I hadn’t even realized it.
My eyes flickered to the instructors, who stifled their laughter, but it was Easton who let it all out. He stomped the floor with his shoes and wrapped his arms around his waist. Right when I was about to say something malicious, I came to on the video making a moaning sound that reminded me of a cat in heat. I whipped my attention back to the screen and watched as my eyes rolled back into my head as I passed out again, and my face slackened. It happened again.
“Flying?” Easton asked. I gritted my teeth, fuming. I knew I hadn’t flown through the sky, but I at least thought I could make it sound like Easton had missed out. Though after watching this video, this living proof, it was clear Easton had missed nothing but a display of my crippling fear. I turned to yell at Easton, but then I came to consciousness on the video, pulling my attention away once more. The terror would return to my face right before I would fall limp again. I’d never seen anything like it.
The embarrassment radiated off my back and heated to a boil. All this big talk about me having skydiving experience, and I hadn’t experienced it at all. Unbeknownst to me, I essentially slept through the whole damn thing. I closed my eyes, wishing that I had just thrown up on my partner instead. It seemed like the lesser evil at the time, and by the way he was laughing at me, he deserved it.
There, in a small room with three guys rolling in hysterics, and my embarrassment about to burst into flames, I did the only thing I could. At first, it was a twitch of the lips. I tried to control it. I tried to hide it. I wanted to be furious! But every time I ran through another cycle of consciousness on the TV, I just about died all over again. It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen or experienced. And the idea of me not even knowing it was beyond me. A laugh broke loose, and my body jolted forward. I covered my mouth. But as soon as it was out, there was no going back. The guys laughed even louder now that they had full permission, and I covered my watering eyes with my hands, unable to control my rollercoaster of emotions.
My feet were safely planted on the ground, and I had survived a 10,000-foot jump. And I suppose, whether or not I passed out, I could still say that I did it. And the fact that it was so incredibly embarrassing . . . well, that just made for a better story, I guess.
“Yes! We’ll take it! We’ll take the best video package you offer!” Easton barked between fits of laughter.
“No!” I wailed, jumping to my feet.
Chapter 11
Flames twirled between the dancers and over their heads. Their hips knocked side to side with a speed I couldn’t possibly comprehend. Their banana leaf sarongs left little to the imagination, but that hadn’t stopped me. I couldn’t dance like that if I had decades of training. It made me wonder what it felt like to perform a fire dance, but I ultimately concluded that it was just a job for them. An everyday mundane task. Their Monday, and my entertainment. It hardly seemed fair, and I wished they enjoyed it the way I did now. Who knew? Maybe they did?
“Does this ever get old?” I asked Easton across the table. I didn’t take my eyes off the dancers, and I wasn’t sure that he’d heard me, or even if I had said it aloud. If I truly had lives upon lives to live, would this ever get old? Would something so amazing as raw talent become boring at some point? Had it been boring for Easton now?
“What?” Easton replied, reaching across the table to take my hand.
“This.”
“The nearly naked men?”
“No! The show! The talent . . . the extraordinary talent. Does it all become, I don’t know, ordinary after a while? After seeing it so many times in so many lives, does it lose what makes it special?” I asked, and only then did I pull my eyes from the fire dancers to look at Easton. The glow of the fire waltzed across his face in the dark of the night. I didn’t want to hear his answer.
Easton looked from me to the dancers, thinking about my question, and I could only imagine that he was trying to come up with something positive to say. But the truth was probably anything but. It was old news to him. I don’t know why I thought it wasn’t, but it still hurt a bit. I didn’t want to live forever if I’d be stuck in an endless loop of been there’s or done that’s. I could see how it would be considered a curse.
“This show doesn't really do much for me. Maybe because I’ve seen it a time or two before. Maybe because there are men in banana leaves . . .” Easton shrugged. I smiled and briefly scanned the beach for the women in coconuts that were surely going to dance next. “But it hasn’t lost its charm. And being here with you makes it almost new again. Being with you is like getting to see it for the first time. I get to see the wonder in your eyes, and honestly, it’s probably the most I’ve ever enjoyed it, which is saying a lot.”
“Are you just saying that?” I asked, looking him square in the eyes.
“No, I’m not,” he said.
“I used to be
afraid of dying. Of not experiencing life. Of not having enough time. And now that I have the opportunity to do it all, I’m just as afraid. But for different reasons.” I sighed, and Easton tightened his grip on my hand. “Now I’m afraid of becoming callused. I’m worried that I’ll turn numb to all the beautiful things around me. I just feel so at peace here, on the island. And the thought of coming back one day and not feeling this way because I’ve seen it so many times is just . . . it’s just sad,” I said. “I don’t want it to happen.”
“Beck, do you think you could ever, truly, tire of this?”
I looked around. The fire dancers were bowing, and the small dinner crowd applauding. I clapped and watched them walk away. Their tan buns covered by one single leaf. “God, I hope not!” I said. Easton laughed, and before I knew it, a dinner roll hit my chest. I jumped and caught it before it rolled off my chair. “Hey! I’m just saying!”
“I’m just saying… I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Easton said, with a twinkle in his eye.
I smiled, placing the dinner roll back on the table. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe my predisposition was to worry, no matter what. I would always find something new to fear. I was always going to be my own worst enemy.
A server approached our table, filling our water and giving us a clean plate for the buffet dinner. Easton and I walked to the back of the line that comprised of three honeymoon couples. All young, though we must have had them beat by at least five years. Easton began loading up his plate, and I passed on the smoked pork and macadamia nut crusted sea bass. By the time we walked back to our table, my plate had only gained a single scoop of white rice and a small chicken thigh. And that didn’t even appeal to me, but I insisted on getting something on my plate, and it was one of my last options.
“Is that all your eating?” Easton asked, holding a full dinner plate of his own.
I looked down at my pathetic chicken and rice. “I’m just not that hungry,” I said with a shrug.
The Kindred Soul of Nora Faye: The Tethered Soul Series, Book 3 Page 8