As Lopez Lake became just a dot in my rearview mirror, my
cell phone chirped, letting me know I had regained Sprint coverage. There was a
voicemail waiting for me.
“Hello, Ashlee. The forecast is calling for rain tomorrow.
Can you come in this afternoon? Call us when you can.”
I called, trying to avoid using vocabulary that might allow
Nick to put the puzzle pieces together.
This is Ashlee, you
left me a voicemail… Yes, I see how that could be a problem… Could we come in
20 minutes?... Great! See you soon!”
“Nick, we are making a side trip,” I told him.
“Where are we going,” he inquired.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tried to sound sly, but he knew
exactly what we were going to do.
We pulled into a parking lot in a sketchy part of town. My
bike was locked to the top of my car, but I didn’t know how safe it was to
assume it would be there when I returned. This was not Montecito.
“Are we skydiving?” I couldn’t surprise my boyfriend with
anything. He knew exactly what we were doing.
As we walked around the strip mall searching for the
building, a woman with colorful hair, inked arms and a burrito in her hand
sauntered up to us. “Ya want me to take your picture in front of the skydiving
sign?” Her smile was so big, I felt like she was an old friend. “Don’t worry,”
she reassured. “I won’t steal your phone. I work here!”
We did our classic #whoanilee pose then followed the girl
inside.
“Alright, so it’s getting windy outside,” she got serious. “We
need to get you out there as soon as we can or else you may not be able to
jump. Usually, we would need you to watch this safety video then fill out some
paperwork, but since we are in such a rush, you can just fill out the paperwork
while the movie plays in the background.”
“What is the movie,” Nick asked.
“Oh, you know, just safety stuff and how to jump. A lot of
people die skydiving, so it’s important to know what to and not to do.”
“Should we be watching this, then?” I asked, nervously.
“Definitely,” she nodded her head, eyes wide, smile still on
her face. “A woman recently flew out of her harness because she had her arms in
the wrong position. The instructor caught her and held onto her belt the whole
way down. It was a close call!”
“But we should still fill out our paperwork while watching
the safety tips,” my brain was wondering how it was going to focus on both
things at once.
Static played on the small television screen, followed by
some tuning of the picture before a man with the most magnificent beard came
onto the screen. He spoke about the importance of holding your arms and body a
certain way during the jump and fall.
I read the first paragraph of the first of seven pages:
The likelihood of
getting injured or dying is very likely. Initial here.
The second paragraph read:
I understand that I
may lose a limb while skydiving. Initial here.
This continued for seven straight pages.
I could almost here the thoughts in Nick’s head: What has she gotten us into? This is crazy.
He was uncertain about the whole thing and it was obvious.
Quietness overtook him and his body movements were rigid. I can always tell
when Nick is uncomfortable in a situation. This situation was turning into the
worst birthday gift ever.
The woman handed us directions to the landing pad. “Our bus
already left, so you’ll have to drive yourself there. It’s not far,” she
reassured us. I think she read the fear in the wrinkles of our faces. “My
girlfriend and I jump all the time. It’s amazing. You’ll want to come back
again and again!”
We drove out to the Middle of Nowhere, Pismo Beach. Peter
Gabriel told us that the light and heat were in our eyes, but that didn’t calm
us down. Both Nick and I were wondering if this was the smartest decision; I
still had to race the next day and he really didn’t want to die 8 days before
his 27th birthday.
Turning past a few warehouses onto a private dead-end road
made us think we may be lost. “I think that big grassy spot with the four boys
was where we are supposed to go,” I told him.
“The four kids?!” he seemed astonished that I would even toy
with the idea. “That frat party?! If those are the instructors, we are getting
your money back.”
We drove past the boys again. They were total bros, clad in
tank tops and board shorts. Gel held their hair in perfect spikes pointing from
their scalp to the sky. All eight eyes turned and watched us drive past, but no
one waved us over. Could that really be where we were supposed to go?
“Just pull in and we will ask,” I told Nick.
The boys danced around their car as we parked next to them.
“Are you skydiving? We just woke up this morning and our
buddy opened the door and said we should do it. This is everyone’s first time,”
the shortest of the frat members spoke quickly. “Have you guys done this
before?! Oh, look! There are our friends!”
We watched as two parachutes danced in the air. Someone
turned on Tom Petty’s Free Falling.
As we watched the two jumpers land, we saw how harmless the sport looked. All
of the blood was restored in Nick’s face and our lungs began taking in normal
amounts of oxygen.
After the first group packed up and drove away, the
instructors prepped us for the upcoming jump. The female was 5 inches shorter
and 30 pounds lighter than me. She had pink streaks in her hair and gages in
her ear. Listening to her talk made me yearn for adventure and freedom. The
male was even shorter than she was and his gages were a size bigger. Tattoos
lined every inch of visible skin. He was from Puerto Rico and I couldn’t tell
if he was so quiet because he didn’t speak English or if he really just didn’t
give a hoot about anything going on.
The pilot leaned up against a post smoking a cigar. “This is
my last day,” he chuckled. “See you (fowl word) never.”
“What is your plan,” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“If today is your last day, what do you plan to do next,” I
clarified.
“I’m going to work at Jack in the Box.”
I laughed.
He looked at me, offended. “Really though.”
“Oh…” I couldn’t think of anything more to say.
“You a Seahawks fan? I saw your watch,” Nick saved me by
changing the subject.
For the next 10 minutes, we listened to the story of how our
Californian pilot became a Seahawks fan. When he finished, the instructors told
us how we were going to jump. The picture she painted made me think of the
jumpers seen in movies, sitting along a bench then jumping out of a
decent-sized plane one-by-one.
“When I tap your shoulder, you’ll come to a squatting
position onto my lap. I’ll hook into your harness then we will sit on the side
of the door and rock three times before tilting forward and falling out of the
plane,” she instructed. “Got it?”
It sounded easy enough.
To be continued...
