Page 34 of Ripple Effect
Cal opens his mouth, but whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by Bruce yelling over the wind whipping through the open door. “Elizabeth! Let’s hook up.”
I give him a thumbs-up. I just hope I’m the only one of the four of us still left on this tin bird—including the pilot—who can tell it’s shaking life a leaf. Standing in front of Bruce, I’m outwardly calm as he attaches the D-rings to the fittings on the back of my harness under Cal’s watchful eye. Cal reaches over and jerks the harness a few times. Hard.
“Ready to fly, baby?” Cal yells.
“Sure.” But the rolling pitch to my stomach has other ideas as Bruce frog-marches me to the door.
“Remember, step as far onto the platform as you can, Elizabeth,” Bruce yells.
“Libby. If I’m going to die, call me Libby.” His rough beard rubs against my face as he chuckles.
“You’ll be fine, Libby. In fact, let’s celebrate. You’re about to be my 12,000th jump.”
“Can we make it to 12,001?” I’m practically begging.
“It’s going to be fine. Cal’s going to hop out right behind us,” he tries to assure me when it does nothing of the sort. Why do I want him telling me the man I love is about to do something so monumentally asinine as jump out of a plane after me? “Shouldn’t he go first so we can, I don’t know, save him or something?” Didn’t I see that in a movie once?
My foot begins to edge out onto the platform, and the wind is whipping through the jumpsuit I’m wearing. Yeah, there’s no need to hide how hard I’m shaking now because I’m clutching the oh-shit bar at the edge of the plane door like someone’s declared it’s a winning lottery ticket.
“Libby, you can do this! I promise. Nothing’s going to happen.”
Sure. After all, what could happen when you’re 14,000 feet up in the air being held up by a harness that’s been worn by umpteen number of people before me? These are the questions I should have been asking in class instead of sassing Cal. Now, as Bruce gently rubs my fingers, I may never have the chance.
“It’s the only way down?” I’m going to cry soon if we don’t do this; I just know it.
“It’s the best way,” Bruce says.
“Then do it. Just do it.”
“Okay. On three. Let me signal Cal.” He tosses a two-finger salute to my boyfriend. I lift one hand from my death grip to do the same.Courage, Libby, I mentally tell myself.
Instead of letting me put it back, Bruce snags my fingers and places them around my waist, holding them snugly. “You call it.”
“One,” I call shakily.
“Two…” The next thing you know our bodies are pitching forward. “I love you, Cal!” I scream with all my might, my eyes so tightly shut they might as well be fused together, figuring there’s no way anyone can hear me.
We tumble. I feel my entire being forced open and backward into Bruce’s. I’m waving my hands in every direction. I come into contact with something, I just hope it isn’t something like the cutaway thingy. We’re spinning, twisting, turning. “Oh, sweet Jesus, deliver me safely,” I chant. Not that anyone can hear me. Except, I pray, God.
The devil who holds my life literally in his hands is laughing. I can’t hear it, but I feel his big body vibrating. I just hope like hell it’s not separating the harness that holds the two of us together.
I begin to pray in earnest.
“I never got to tell Cal I love him before I die! Holy God. Sweet Lord. I swear, I meant to tell him.”
My arms are swinging. I have no concept of where we are, how far we’ve fallen.
All I know is I have no center.
“God in heaven, forgive me for taking your name in vain.”
I feel a tap on the front of my shoulder as Bruce and I are floating, and I scream, not that anyone can hear above the wind. I’m struggling against Bruce when he forces us back into position. It’s only due to my need for oxygen my eyes pop open, and there he is. All I see is the beauty of Cal’s face. There’s something different about it. Maybe it’s the covering of his helmet softening his normally taciturn features but…
I’m about to reach out for him, to be brave enough to touch him midair, when Bruce suddenly yanks the rip cord to our chute and we’re jerked up feet away from Cal, who’s still falling in the sky.
We float along gently for a few moments. As we get lower in altitude and I figure my chances of not succumbing to my death are better, I have to admit this part’s not bad. So, I decide to unwedge my big-girl panties from my throat and redeem myself by asking, “How fast were we going when we jumped?”
“Us or the plane?”
