Flying Without Dreaming

We sat in a trailer watching an old VHS training video that kept skipping. One of our classmates said, "Did that guy just say something about 'if the parachute doesn't open'?" "I have no idea," I replied. That's when the video decided we'd seen enough and spit itself out of the VCR. It was my first time skydiving. I guess we'd be winging it.

That's when the secretary, a girl who could not have been more than 18, came in with stacks of waivers. No Responsibility Of Ours. You're Taking Your Life In Your Own Hands. Form after form shouted these warnings out at us. Yet still we signed them and obediently followed her out to the hanger area.

I was with my friends, Rob and Susan. Together we make up what we now call our own little adventure club, "Tres Leches." I'd thought we'd all be able to go together, but apparently only two an go up in each plane. We rock, paper, scissored it and Rob lost. He said it was fine, but that incredible pout his lips made said otherwise. So I manned up and volunteered to go solo. As a reward, my name was called first, of course.

As the attendant strapped me in I had plenty of time to think about what I was doing. But I chose not to. Instead, I just said, "Would you mind just triple-checking these things?" He laughed and guided me out to the plane.

Now, when I think of a puddle jumper, I think of the little planes that take me from Atlanta to my small hometown of Augusta when I go back home. You know, the kind where you almost expect chickens to be running up and down it. But there was no room for even chickens in this thing. Following orders, I scooched in, back-first to the instrument panel, right next to the pilot, another kid not more than 18. He grinned at me broadly and told me to try not to move. He didn't want me elbowing the gear-shift or backing my head onto one of the many buttons that did god knew what. I braced myself not to breathe and off we went.

The "plane" climbed up and up and up, just like the little engine that could. Now, normally I love the part on rollercoasters where you climb the tracks on the way to the first drop. But this climb was neverending. We went on for nearly 30 minutes. I tried to enjoy the view, but this queasy feeling in my stomach refused to quit me. I asked my instructor, Jack, if anyone ever puked while skydiving. He said, "Oh yes, definitely. Don't do that." Great. My last few moments on earth would be spent ralphing up the burgers and milkshakes I'd stupidly eaten only hours before.

Finally, Jack leaned in and told me we had 5 minutes to the jump and told me to turn around. Turn around? Uh uh. If I did that I was certain to knock that gearshift and we'd all be sent plummeting straight down. But he persisted and pulled me toward him so that I was sitting right in his crotch. He strapped me in tight to him, legs wrapped around me, arms settled on my shoulders. He seemed to sense my hesitation and leaned in, whispering lowly and confidently, "Don't worry, I've got you." That's when I knew I'd jump out of that plane with him anywhere, parachute or not.

"Two minutes," he said. The plane circled and I began to get excited. "One minute." He flipped open the tiny hatch and a cool burst of wind blasted our faces. "30 seconds." My heart raced and he told me to put my foot out like he'd taught me to. I saw the tiny little platform above the plane's wheel, no bigger than my actual foot. Resignedly, I pushed my right foot out and down toward the platform. The wind pushed my foot right back, seeming not to want this to happen and I tended to agree. But I resolved to do this thing, forced my foot downward and it hit. Proud of myself, I turned back to grin at Jack, but he didn't seem as impressed with my accomplishment as I was because he was immediately pushing me forward, counting "ONE...." I resisted, what? That's it? No foreplay? He pulled me back, "TWO..." He can't be serious. I hadn't had anytime to prepare for this! "Three!" and then we were out of the plane and into the sky.

Every fiber of my being cried out for this crime against nature herself. And it did not matter one bit that some supposed expert was strapped to my back with a parachute. I was FALLING. White, white everywhere and not thing to stop me. Clouds rushed past at an alarming speed. All i could do was grip myself...I was the only thing to hold onto.

My body shrank in on itself. My hands clawed the straps. My teeth gritted, but the wind forced my lips open so that I felt like some idiot-grinning chimp. What had i gotten myself into? What if the buckles broke? What if the parachute didn't open? All of these thoughts raced through my head in a matter of seconds and then something snapped within me. I wasn't falling at all. I was FLYING! I had only ever flown in my dreams before. But this was it! And that's when my idiots grin became a true grin. I relaxed into it. The air seemed to cup itself around me. My guide tapped me on the shoulder and I obediently spread my arms. Oh yes! The parachute flew out and we were yanked back upward. I was superman!The rest of the way down we floated, spinning gracefully toward the ground. Bright green hills and crystalline lakes twinkled at me. I yelled, no I hooted in pure joy! The rush was incredible. Richer than any rollercoaster, higher than any drug. My instructer asked me if I liked it and I literally replied back breathlessly, "Jack, I'm FLYING!" He just laughed in my ear and told me he was going to do some tricks now. I nodded and he proceeded to turn left, then right in wide loops. Together we road the wind, the sky.

Jack felt so confident with me that he wanted to try a standing-landing. I braced my legs for the impact, but it was not as forceful as I expected. So instead my legs buckled and we rolled forward, Jack flipping right over me. We were laughing uncontrollably as we got up and he unhooked me. "You never get tired of that, do you?" I asked. He just winked at me and sent me on my way as he gathered up the folds of the parachute.

I was completely disoriented after. Adrenaline sweat poured down my face and neck. I couldn't seem to walk straight. I didn't know where to go. The ground seemed to be too much. I wanted the freedom of the air again, no boundaries on any side of me.

Later, as I watched my friends sail downward from the clouds, I smiled knowing what they were feeling. We had been flying...without dreaming.