crouch on the lip of the doorway.
Seeing them inch toward open space
was nauseating, and I looked away. I
couldn’t watch them vanish into the
sky; I stared at the plane’s riveted
metal wall instead. The pilot dipped
the plane slightly to the right, tipping
Neil and Matthew out the door, and
then, liberated of their combined 270
pounds, the Cessna sprang back sud-
denly to the left. My stomach clenched
and jerked, and I swallowed hard.
Now it was our turn. Barry directed
me to roll over and scuttle into posi-
tion as the pilot got us lined up for
another jump. My breath came fast;
I struggled for control. I desperately
wanted to shout, No, no, I changed
my mind. I don’t want to do this. I
clenched my jaw. I knew that if I said
the word, they would take me back
down to the ground, keep my money,
and let me walk away. The whole day
would be for nothing.
Eventually I got myself in place,
hunched over with my kneecaps level
in the front of the door frame, Barry
behind me. I tried to unfocus my eyes
so I couldn’t see the opening and the
endless air next to me, the ground far
below. Over the roar of the wind and
the plane, Barry shouted last-minute
adjustments to the pilot, getting us
lined up just right. “Give me five left! ...
Five right!” The seconds stretched out
while I fought the urge to quit. I had
the sensation of trying to hold up
some massive weight, my strength
ebbing away, moment by moment.
Finally Barry put his right foot out
on the narrow metal step fixed to
the plane’s fuselage below the open
door frame and yelled for me to do
the same. It took me three tries—the
wind first blew my foot behind, then
in front, before I lodged it against his.
Next I had to scooch around so my
left knee pointed out over the lip of
the doorway and lock both my hands
on to my harness, gripping a pair of
handles at shoulder height. I was glad
to have something to hold on to. Ever
since Barry had promised to snap
my finger bones if need be, I’d had
110 april 2020