Not Afraid of the Fall

by Kyle James

  When I awoke, I turned to see Ash wide awake, staring out the window. I wondered what she was thinking about, but I didn’t want to ask. She needed this time to process this just as I had in the sea. Our future was nothing but uncertainty, and it was scary. It was also scary to go back to being around and relying on other people. All Ash and I had had was each other for the last four months. Through the good and bad, we’d shared every moment of the most exciting time of our lives and couldn’t have survived without each other. We had become partners and teammates. We had become family.

  We both fell back asleep on each other’s heads until we arrived in Bangkok. I had been dozing in and out of sleep as the sun went down and darkness captured the bus. The bright lights of the city woke me up. I could not believe how big the city was. It reminded me of New York.

  When we stepped outside, I immediately smelled the stench of the city. It was both disgusting and inviting. We bartered with a taxi driver and got a ride in a tuk-tuk and sputtered off into the traffic. Our Airbnb was basically in a mall, located downtown in an apartment complex. We found the code from our messages and walked into the high-rise apartment. It was on the forty-second floor, and we had a view of the entire city.

  We both dropped our packs and checked our texts. Ash had a message from her friend Becca from college who was also in Bangkok. Ash knew her and her boyfriend, Ajay, were here, but she wasn’t sure if we would be up for going out with them after traveling all day. We stood in our Airbnb room, looked out at the towers and lights, and decided that if we were going to be traveling for one last night, we might as well go out and spend time with friends. This would ease our pain a bit, and every night we’d spent with other people on this trip thus far had been great.

  We didn’t even bother unpacking. We only got out the clothes we would wear tonight and for our travel day home tomorrow. Once we were all set to leave, we started the half-mile walk to the skyscraper with a bar on top, where we were meeting Ajay and Becca. When we arrived, we got into an elevator that took what felt like five minutes to get to the sixtieth floor. My ears were doing backflips every few seconds.

  As soon as we saw Becca and Ajay, I realized I recognized them both. App State was a school of around sixteen thousand students, but it felt small, and if you were out and about often, you felt like you knew everyone. I had played basketball with Ajay plenty of times.

  They had a seat along the balcony that made my stomach quiver instantly. I suppose they called it a sky bar because we were literally in the sky.

  I was glad we’d decided to come and hang out with Becca and Ajay. They had been teaching in Thailand but were heading home to start their postgraduate degrees. What a great experience for them to graduate from school, teach abroad in a place where you acquire a new perspective and appreciation for life, and then take those rich experiences and use them as ammo in your next phase. I was proud to have met up with these two.

  After we left the bar, Becca and Ajay took us to their favorite outdoor market for dinner, and we sat and ate bowls of food on the steps of a large building. As we filled our faces with noodles, I looked around and noticed how hot, loud, and humid Bangkok was. It reminded me of being back in one of the big cities at the beginning of our trip.

  Many of Becca and Ajay’s stories were very similar to ours. We talked about making toasties, one of the main food groups in the pyramid, and the craziness of the drivers and lawless roads. We laughed at the fact we’d sweat from the moment we got here until now, and I pulled my shirt out and let it snap back in a wet smack on my chest. We all sighed deeply at the thought of paying anything more than three dollars for a massage and no longer getting taxis for pocket change. It was a sad day for all of us, but we also had the pride and sense of accomplishment of surviving it all. We said our good-byes and knew we would see them soon in North Carolina.

  A deep feeling of sadness passed over me as we walked back to our Airbnb, sweaty hand in sweaty hand. This was actually it: this was the last night of the journey that had changed our lives forever. Nothing would ever be the same after this for either of us. That was a bittersweet pill to swallow. On one hand, we didn’t want to leave. We didn’t want to go back to a world of deadlines; we didn’t want to go back to where we weren’t side by side, tackling travel days and hangovers and botched logistics. On the other hand, life would never be the same for us because we had stretched our comfort zones so far, we could never wear the life pants we’d once fit into.

  When we got home, we packed all our belongings into our luggage. This arsenal had grown into two backpacks, a suitcase we’d bought on the side of the road for five dollars, and two smaller backpacks that we strapped to our chests. We hadn’t unpacked much when we got here, so it wasn’t hard, but we had to be at the airport semi-early tomorrow and didn’t want to have to do it in the morning.

  We got in bed and left the blinds open so we could utilize the night-light of the Bangkok skyline. The bed was extremely uncomfortable, the AC was subpar, my beard/hair was taking up half my pillow in a giant ball of fur, and I had not stopped sweating even after the cold shower. We slept great.

  9/28/15

  Bangkok, Thailand →

  Our alarm went off, and the beeping felt more like a siren alerting us that life was on its way and to take cover. There wasn’t much talking between us this morning because it was too hard. Talking about going home and this journey becoming a memory hurt too much. Neither of us had the words to comfort the other.

  We used the last two large water bottles we had to brush our teeth and hydrate before our twenty-four hours of flying. You could never, it seems, overhydrate in Thailand. We did what we always did when we left Airbnbs and checked to make sure we had our phones, wallets, and chargers. Lastly we used the Wi-Fi to make sure there were no specific checkout instructions.

  The only thing we had to do was drop the key off at the front desk at the bottom of the building. When I handed the Thai woman our key, she grabbed it and gave a wai to me. I felt like I was dropping off the key to happiness as our four months of travel had ended. Ash was at the corner, checking for transportation to the airport, and when I returned, she reported back to me that Bangkok had Uber and it would be a cheap ride to the airport. As she was about to press the button to request the Uber, I noticed a single tear fall from her big beautiful eyes. I stopped her hand and asked, “Do they have a metro?”

  I noticed a slight smile form in the corner of her mouth, and she quickly googled the Bangkok public transit routes.

  “The closest station that goes to the airport is only a mile and a half away,” she said, looking at me with a glimpse of hope in her eyes at the prospect of one last travel day.

  Our bodies were exhausted and depleted from four months of rigorous travel. I had lost twenty pounds since arriving in Thailand due to sickness. Not to mention we now had sixty pounds of luggage on our backs, on our chests, and dragging behind us. Neither of us had eaten a thing this morning, and there was an alert on my weather app warning us about the heat and air-quality index. The streets were flooded with crowded markets and hectic traffic. This was still no match for us; we were backpackers, after all.

  “Let’s do it,” I said, smiling at her. She became as excited as that first morning in Clemence’s Airbnb in Paris. Then she took my hand in hers and led me back onto the streets of Bangkok for one last adventure.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To Ash: We did it. Thanks for being there every step of the way, from Denver to Bangkok. Reading these journal entries every night to you was the best part of making this book.

  To the friends, family, and strangers who helped me crowd-fund this book: This could not have happened without your support. Not Afraid of the Fall began as a dream of mine, and I am forever indebted to those who helped push this book to become a reality.

  To Mom, Dad, Sara, and Carter: Thank you for putting up with me as I fought with these words night after night for the last two years. I will never forget the sacrifices y
ou four made to give me the time to adequately work on this.

  To Emily and JJ: thanks for passing along the travel bug and sharing your family with us.

  Angie and Jeff: your love and support was instrumental in helping me publish this book.

  To Avalon, Angela, Adam, Thad, and the rest of the team at Inkshares: You guys are unbelievable. The time you put into Not Afraid of the Fall, even on nights and weekends, truly showed that you care about these books as much as the authors. This is a family, and the sky is the limit for Inkshares. I am glad to be part of something this special.

  To my editor, J.C.: Those countless hours we spent on the phone envisioning the final product of this book helped me beyond measure. I can’t thank you enough for being the first person to fully read this book and for rolling up your sleeves to make it what it is today. You are amazing, my man.

  To my copy editor, Kaitlin: I apologize for the puzzle of grammar you had to decode to find Not Afraid of the Fall. Simply put, this book wouldn’t be here without your help. Thank you so much, Kaitlin.

  To Tay and Paul: The original cover and promotional video are the reason anyone originally gave this book a second glance, and I owe my thanks to you two. You guys helped me create those pieces without a second of hesitation.

  Tyler, Dave, and Pat: You three helped me edit long before there was an opportunity for editors. Each of you saw my vision for this book and helped me chisel away the pieces to get it there. Thank you for believing in me and this story.

  LIST OF PATRONS

  Alex Mette

  Amber Wilson

  Angela Melamud

  Annalise Farris and

  Stephen Perry

  Ashley Grigsby

  Avalon Radys

  Beau Long

  Ben Roush

  Brendan and Laura Kerr

  Bruce and Susan Riebe

  Carter James

  Cole H Page

  Dennis R Greene

  Emily James

  Gordon Gibbs

  Grama James

  Heather and Ned

  Jackie Bridges

  Jeff and Angela Grigsby

  Jessica Glasser

  Jon and Molly James

  Jordan Smith

  Josh Canon

  Joyce Mason

  Kaitlin M Grigsby

  Karen D. Williams

  Keith Shockley and

  Breanna Brown

  Ken and Marla Bridges

  Kenneth Jjombwe

  Kerry King

  Kobla Hargett

  Luke and Jess Blitchington

  Marius Feldmeier

  Matt Kaye

  Mike du Toit

  Neil Peters and Bryony Stewart

  Patrick and Jordie Kerwin

  Patrick Garvey and

  Ritchlyn Mohammed

  Phil and Cathy James

  Rachel Blackwelder

  Richard King

  Rock and Jeannine Bridges

  Roger E. Nahum

  Tarron and Kathryn Robinson

  The Doherty Family

  Todd, Kathy, Sara and

  Shayna Webber

  Tom Withers Green &

  Laura Capel

  Walker Wells

  Wanda and Robert Crocker,

  Acorn Hill

  INKSHARES

  INKSHARES is a reader-driven publisher and producer based in Oakland, California. Our books are selected not by a group of editors, but by readers worldwide.

  While we’ve published books by established writers like Big Fish author Daniel Wallace and Star Wars: Rogue One scribe Gary Whitta, our aim remains surfacing and developing the new author voices of tomorrow.

  Previously unknown Inkshares authors have received starred reviews and been featured in The New York Times. Their books are on the front tables of Barnes & Noble and hundreds of independents nationwide, and many have been licensed by publishers in other major markets. They are also being adapted by Oscar-winning screenwriters at the biggest studios and networks.

  Interested in making your own story a reality? Visit Inkshares.com to start your own project or find other great books.