Case of the Dysfunctional Daredevils

by Jeffrey M. Poole

  I felt the color drain from my face as I realized these people fully expected me to be dropped off a flippin’ bridge. People began cheering and clapping me on the back as I hesitantly stepped forward. Vance, the little turd, was all smiles. Jillian took my hands in hers and squeezed them encouragingly.

  “You can do this, Zachary. I believe in you.”

  “Whatever happened to ‘No, this is too dangerous and I don’t want you to go,’? I mean, I don’t know if I can do this.”

  A strong, firm hand appeared on my shoulder and squeezed.

  “Sure you can,” Thor said, coming up on my right. “You’re here, aren’t you? You want to experience all life has to offer, don’t you?”

  I remained, transfixed, at the railing’s edge.

  “Come on. They’ve got to get you suited up and go over some safety protocols with you.”

  I looked at my hands. I was gripping the rail so tightly that my knuckles were white. “Tell that to them,” I told Thor. “I don’t think they want me to go.”

  In a daze, I allowed myself to be pulled over to the group of strangers, who immediately began outfitting me in special harness. A man and a woman, both looking to be about my age, calmly – and professionally – started strapping things on me while going through the unsurprisingly long list of bungee jumping Dos and Don’ts.

  “Don’t try to fall feet first,” the man was saying, as he adjusted several straps on my harness. “For obvious reasons, that can get awkward.”

  “Do you really have to throw that disclaimer in there?” I incredulously asked.

  “I wish we didn’t, but we have to,” the woman sadly added, as she strapped a bright yellow helmet to my head.

  I shuddered as I thought about what must have happened. “That’ll leave a mark.”

  “And then some,” the guy agreed.

  He snapped matching straps around my thighs and then pulled my shoulder straps down and fastened it to some type of oval ring. The guy caught me staring at it and grinned.

  “You’re a big boy, so I upgraded your carabiner for you.”

  “Uh, thanks?” I stammered. “Care to tell me what a ‘carabiner’ is and what it does?”

  The male operator leaned forward and tapped the flattened metal ring hooked to my chest straps.

  “It’s this metal clip right here. If you press this side in here, do you see how it opens? And, based on its design, you can also see that no amount of force will open it from the inside-out.”

  I saw a tiny ‘25kn’ etched onto the ring.

  “What’s that?” I wanted to know.

  “That? It’s your kilonewton rating. This baby is rated at 25 kilonewtons. I usually use 21 for most jumps.”

  “You’re calling me a fat-ass, aren’t you?”

  The guy snorted with laughter.

  “We don’t take any chances. A 21kn-rated carabiner will hold you, but I would personally feel better with something stronger. What was your weight again? 250lbs?”

  “More or less,” I said, cringing as my weight was publicly announced. “How much will this hold?”

  “Oh, stop fretting,” the woman chided. “It’s held bigger people than you, darling. Sit here. That’s good. Now, have you gone?”

  “Have I gone? No. Clearly, I’m still here.”

  Idiots. Where else would I be? The woman smiled patronizingly at me before continuing.

  “I mean, have you gone to the bathroom yet?”

  Oh.

  “I did at the last gas station. Why?”

  “We just recommend you don’t jump on a full bladder,” the man explained.

  “Afraid I’ll pee myself, is that it?” I scoffed.

  “Think about it, buddy,” the man told me. “If your drop is underway, and you release your bladder, where do you think your pee is going to go? Think about which way you’ll be pointing, and what gravity will be doing to you.”

  “Oh. Eww!”

  “There’s a $75 cleaning fee if you soil the harness,” the woman casually informed me, as if grown adults peeing themselves happened on a daily basis. Then again, it probably did for them.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ll be good.” I hope, I mentally added.

  The man excitedly smacked his hands together and began vigorously rubbing them.

  “I think that’s it. You ready?”

  What? Was I ready for what? That was when I discovered what the husband and wife team had been doing. The entire time this exchange was taking place, they were surreptitiously edging me closer and closer to the jump point. Once I realized what they were doing, I slammed on the brakes and gripped the handy dandy rails that were within arm’s reach. I waggled a finger at the two of them and frowned.

  “Oh, hell no! Damn, you two are good. You almost got me.”

  “Listen, pal,” the man began. “If you don’t want to make the jump, that’s fine. However, seeing how close you are to the drop-off, at least let me put the rope on you, in case you develop a case of vertigo and topple forward, okay? I don’t want any deaths on my hands. It looks very bad on the reports I’d have to fill out.”

  “You’re serious?” I demanded, as I leaned over to check my ankles. “The rope isn’t even attached?”

  Sneaky bastards. They were just waiting for me to look at my feet. Why? Because, when I leaned forward (I was sitting on the deck), I inadvertently let go of the rail so as to better look at my trussed-up ankles. Well, the clever jerk was waiting. As soon as I shifted my weight to my other hip, I felt a hand on my back and suddenly discovered the ground had disappeared

  “Have a great time!!” I heard the man cheerfully shout down at me, as I dropped away from the platform.

  That’s the last thing I heard before a series of screams, pleas, and curses drowned everything else out. That sneaky, two-timing, silver-tongued bastard had pushed me! The only thing I could hope for is that I could hold on to my dignity and not embarrass myself on the way down. Well, as you could probably tell from the ‘screams, pleas, and curses’ from above, that didn’t happen. In fact, I was pretty sure that, if Victoria and Tiffany had been listening, I was going to end up owing their swear jar at least $50, if not more.

  On and on I fell. Granted, what felt like eons only ended up lasting less than six seconds. One second, I was at the top of the bridge, doubting my life choices. The next? I was bobbing up and down under a bridge, like an oversized yoyo. Upside down, mind you. Moments later, a second cord was dropped down beside me and, after I clicked it into place, I was hoisted back up to the platform.

  The Daredevils were there, all whooping and hollering. Congratulations were given, and I even didn’t mind being called ‘gramps’ by a few of them. I guess the vast majority of them thought I’d chicken out. And, let’s be honest here, I almost did.

  “Nicely done, mate,” the male operator said, as he started unbuckling me from my harness.

  “You pushed me,” I accused, as I unbuckled my safety helmet and pulled off.

  The male operator held up his hands in surrender.

  “That wasn’t me, pal. Do you know how much trouble we would be in if one of us actually did?”

  “Then who did?” I wanted to know.

  “Do you regret going?” the female operator asked.

  I shrugged and eventually shook my head. “Not really. I don’t think I’d ever do it again, but at least I can say that I did it.”

  “So, you’re proud you did it, is that it?” the woman clarified.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “That’s good to hear, ‘cause I’m the one who pushed you.”

  I whipped my head around to stare at the wife part of the husband and wife team. “What about what he just said? About the amount of trouble you could be in if one of you pushed a jumper off the platform?”

  The woman shrugged, “What can I say? Money talks.”

  “Money talks,” I repeated. I looked over at Vance, who happened to be talking with his family. Laughing and joking, by the
way. “Did my friend over there pay you to do it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman said, but gave me a barely perceptible nod of her head.

  “Thank you. That’s all I needed to know.”

  So… he thinks he’s funny, does he?

  “Looking for retribution?” the woman quietly asked me. She had a grin on her face and I could tell she had something in mind.

  “Absolutely. Whatcha got for me?”

  “For $79.99, Max, here, will suit up and jump alongside your friend.”

  “How is that retribution?” I wanted to know.

  “He’ll have a video camera on his helmet and will record your friend’s reactions all the way down.”

  “Sold! Do it.”

  The male operator – Max – gave a hearty laugh and opened a nearby blue duffel bag. He pulled out his own personal harness and began putting it on. Laugh at me, will you? Let’s see how your face looks on the big screen, amigo. This will be totally worth it.

  “Hey, no hard feelings, right?”

  I looked over at Vance, who was slowly walking my way with his family. I thought about how silly I must have looked on my own drop, and what Vance would inevitably look like as well, and grinned. I thrust out a hand.

  “None whatsoever. Hope you have fun, amigo!”

  Vance’s smile vanished in the blink of an eye.

  “What did you do?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. I had to make sure I kept my face comfortably parked in neutral.

  “Something’s up. I want to know what you did.”

  “What who did?” Tori asked, overhearing Vance’s statement.

  My detective friend pointed an accusatory finger at me.

  “Him. I want to know what he did.”

  “Why do you think Zack did something?” Tori asked, confused. “Wait. Did you do something to him?”

  “Well…”

  “Vance Edison Samuelson. What did you do?”

  “She just middle-named him,” I chortled, as I sidled up next to Jillian. Both dogs nuzzled my legs, as though each suspected I had suffered some type of trauma and wanted to see for themselves I was okay. Now that I think about it, I guess what I just did was traumatic.

  “It was nothing, really,” Vance stammered. “I might have paid a few bucks to the platform organizers to give Zack a push if he started showing signs he might back out.”

  Tori looked horrified. She gave me an apologetic look, but before she could say anything, I winked at her. Vance’s wife immediately drew up straight, looked at me, over at Jillian, and then slowly looked over at her husband. Vance, meanwhile, was staring at the ground, so he missed the interchange. Tori looked back at me and gave me an inquiring look. I mimicked an old-fashioned, hand-crank video camera and then pointed at Vance. Tori’s eyes widened, and Jillian suppressed a giggle. Just like that, Tori dropped all objections. She knew I had somehow arranged for Vance’s drop to be recorded.

  “Well, what’s done is done,” she eventually said.

  Vance whirled on her. “Okay, what? What’s going on? Since when have you let me off the hook that easily?”

  The husband and wife team approached and started getting Vance ready for his drop. Thankfully, the ever-observant detective didn’t notice that there was a second suited-up person on the platform besides him. Tori appeared on Jillian’s right, whispered something to her, and then pointed at the camera on Max’s helmet. Jillian nodded, then tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Is he going to record Vance’s jump?”

  I nodded, “All the way down, yep.”

  “Does Vance know?”

  “Nope.”

  “Tori is going to love this.”

  “Everyone is going to love this,” I corrected. “Especially when I invite everyone over and play it on the big screen.”

  “Zachary, you wouldn’t!” my fiancé protested.

  “I can and I will, my dear.”

  Five minutes later, the rope had been attached to Vance’s ankles and he had been positioned at the jump point, with his legs dangling out into open air. Vance turned to look at his family as his girls started shouting encouragement.

  “Good luck, daddy!” Tiffany called out.

  “Have fun, daddy!” Victoria yelled at the same time.

  “See on you the big screen!” I shouted from the observing area, nearly a dozen feet away.

  Vance blinked with confusion. “Huh? What was that?”

  I waved a dismissive hand and watched as both Vance and Max dropped off at the same time. While not able to see too much of my friend from my vantage point, I could certainly hear him. Like me, he yelled, cussed, screamed, and cussed a little more. But, in his defense, he did execute the jump under his own steam and didn’t need any prodding from bribed officials.

  Once Vance had been reeled back in, like an oversized trout on a fishing pole, and unbuckled from his harness, we moved our respective families off the bridge and onto the public viewing area back on terra firma. Picnic tables were set every few feet, so we selected two that were close together and claimed them for our own. That was when Vance and I started comparing notes.

  “I couldn’t even form coherent thoughts until I bounced the first time,” Vance admitted.

  “From the sounds of it, you were second-guessing yourself,” I told my friend. “However, I’m not one to argue. I screamed like a little girl all the way down. It was all I could do not to pee myself.”

  That comment earned me a few giggles from Vance’s kids.

  “Did you get that spiel, too, about when you went to the bathroom last?” Vance asked. “Talk about lousy timing. There I was, trussed up and unable to move, and I get asked about bathroom breaks. Hey, what was with that guy doing a drop from the second line?”

  I waved a dismissive hand, “Oh, it was nothing.”

  “You’re up to something.”

  “Maybe.”

  Sherlock and Watson went into Clydesdale mode and forcefully pulled Jillian up to Vance’s side. It was Vance’s turn to get the corgi bill of health, seeing how they had heard him scream and shout moments earlier. Jillian handed me the leashes as she sat beside me at the table. In the distance, we could hear the hoots and hollers of the rest of the Daredevils as they each took their turn.

  “Do you have any regrets?” Jillian asked, as she clasped my hand in hers.

  “About doing that? No, not really. I mean, I’m not gonna do it again, thank you very much. But, I am glad I did it. Why? Did you want to try it?”

  “Oh, heavens no,” Jillian laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not for me.”

  “What’s the matter?” I teased. “Haven’t you ever wanted to… what are the dogs doing?”

  The two of us looked over at Sherlock and Watson, who were straining at the end of their leashes while firing off warning woofs. Both, I might add, were staring back at the bridge. More specifically, they were staring at the group of people who were still there, waiting their turn.

  “What’s going on?” Jillian wanted to know. “Can you see anything?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s too far away to… hang on. I’m going to go grab Ash’s binoculars.”

  “What if he’s using them?”

  “It’ll only be for a little bit. I really don’t want to walk all the way back out on that bridge to see what’s going on.”

  Less than five minutes later, I was back, holding a very expensive set of field binoculars.

  “I’m surprised he let you borrow them,” Jillian said.

  “It really wasn’t that difficult. I gave him a brief history in how the two dogs work, with regards to cases. Once I told them that they expressed interest in the jumpers, Ash felt that, perhaps, Jerod was out on the bridge. He practically thrust these things into my hands.”

  Jillian’s phone beeped. We both looked down at the display and saw that Ash had sent a message, wanting to know if I had spotted anything.

  “Tell him
I looking now,” I reported, as I adjusted the focusing rings on the binoculars.

  Jillian tapped the message into her phone. Then, she looked up at me.

  “Well? What’s going on?”

  “Not much. Another Daredevil is preparing to jump. I can’t tell who it is.”

  “It’s C2,” a friendly voice said, from behind me.

  Properly spooked, Sherlock fired off a warning woof before turning around. Jafo was there, holding out a hand to the dogs. Sherlock and Watson sniffed once, gave the owner of the hand a few more warning woofs, and then returned their attention to the bridge. Jafo slid his lanky frame into the seat opposite me at the table and grinned.

  “It’s a helluva lot of fun, isn’t it?”

  “Now that I’ve done it,” I began, “I can safely say I don’t need to do it again.”

  “We’ll get you properly motivated yet,” Jafo vowed, as he turned his attention to the bridge. “C2 is up, and looks like he’s ready to jump.”

  “How can you tell from this distance?” Jillian wanted to know.

  “He’s the only one wearing a black t-shirt, with a red skull on the front and back.”

  I put the binoculars back up to my eyes and studied the distant figure. Jafo was right. The next jumper had a black shirt, and I could see parts of it were red.

  Sherlock woofed again. I gave the corgi a pat on his head and smiled apologetically at my fellow Daredevil.

  “Don’t worry about him. Some people just get him riled up, even though he’s way the hell over there, and we’re here. Go figure.”

  “What do you know about C2?” Vance casually asked. “Has he made many jumps?”

  “Not much,” Jafo confirmed. “As for jumps, from what I hear, he’s done more than any of us. But, the vast majority of them were done elsewhere. C2 has only been with the company for about two months now. He’s even newer than me.”

  “You’re new, too?” I asked, surprised.

  “I’ve been a Daredevil for just over three months” Jafo confirmed.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Jillian began, “but could I ask you about your name? Jafo? Is that short for something?”

  Jafo grinned and nodded. “It’s an acronym, actually. It stands for Just Another Effin’ Observer.”