Looking back, it was a pivotal time, epoch-making if she had been a country.
The day had hardly begun as she'd stepped out into it. This had been the day she had
dreaded since the first training session a few months ago. Now, with the time
looming inexorably nearer, Acceptance, and its fellow, Calm, sank their comforting blanket
over her and she paused to welcome the tingling chill of the five o'clock morning.
Beth had wanted university to change her. She dreamed that it would enable her to
break free of the constraints of her up-bringing and education so that she could emerge
her True Self. That's why she'd chosen a degree in Fine Art with a bias in the practical,
rather than anything more academic. Soon after arriving, she had cropped her long wavy
hair, then been shocked at the strength and variety of reaction to it, ranging from horror
to delight, sometimes expressed surprisingly vehemently. Even people she didn't think
usually noticed her much had commented. Mr. Bowie-lookalike in the health food shop
announced as she fumbled for change at the counter, that the shape of her skull had
been revealed. Verity, her new friend who had accompanied her to the hairdressers for
the shearing, passed no comment. It felt like solidarity in silence. Young and exhilarated but
intimidated by the task, the hairdresser had paused at chin-length. Shorter? Later in life, Beth
would sometimes think about that moment. The "bob" hadn't come back in fashion again yet;
it did look good in the mirror; but a sudden rush of anger and confusion clouded the thought.
Beth had looked at Verity with despair. Hadn't she explained properly ? Should she have
brought a photo' ? - Mia Farrow in Rosemary's baby? Sylvia Kristel in Emmanuel? A French
resistance fighter from World War Two? Beth would infuriate her daughter in the
same way by misunderstanding or under-estimating her similar desire for a radical hair-
cut some 20 or so years later. Her own Mother, on a rare visit home, gasped in horror
at the sight of her mutilation and declared that she looked as if she'd been tarred and
feathered.
With the close crop and the full-length Doctor Marten boots purchased for the occasion,
Beth looked self-consciously menacing rather than interesting and gamine as she'd
intended on that momentous morning, striding out along the grey walk- way of the flats.
She felt as if she was sacrificing herself to the Fates and looked as if she was going to
war.
Beth couldn't remember when Verity had chickened out of the event. Pondering this,
she reflected that Verity had also got cold feet about the trip across Europe that Beth
came up with the following Summer, but she had brow-beaten and pestered her
into going. That turned out very arduous but interesting, entailing a three day Magic
Bus ride from London to Piraeus and from there, several ferry journeys to Crete where
they burned their skin 'til it peeled off their backs in one piece. They would
sometimes reminisce about the return home when they had next to no money and lived
on the free cups of coffee provided and a watermelon bought from a lady in a bright
headscarf at a road-side in Yugoslavia. They rarely discussed the encounter with the
strange little wizened man in Souda who had escorted them to a beach and proceded to
take all his clothes off, except to congratulate themselves on their nifty escape via
another bus which took them to Knossos and another adventure.
So it was that Beth had shivered alone in the morning mist at the corner of the street
where she'd been instructed to wait. She hated reneging on anything and was determined
to carry the plan through. It would be like stepping into a new era. Like a leap of faith.
Verity had accompanied her to the brink, but now it was up to Beth. Her idea,
her choice, her own Fate.
The Landrover when it arrived, was old and dirty. Beth climbed in to join the others sitting in
the back on sacks under the flapping canvas roof. Jenny, who Beth remembered from the
training, looked pale and cold. The two lads, who she didn't remember, seemed pensive, but
would suddenly explode with bravado at intervals. Everyone was impressed with Beth's
shiny brown DM's. She'd broken the bank and bought them early on, partly to ensure she
followed through with "the plan" but mostly because she loved them. The lads had
walking boots on. Jenny was wearing a pair of Kickers, which they all agreed didn't have
much support around the ankles. Beth recalled thinking Jenny wasn't really
expecting to jump. She might leave the decision right until the last moment. Phil said
they could opt out at any point. Until you were actually falling of course.
As they rattled around corners and bumped along roads towards the airfield, excitement
was building. Dan the driver was shouting jokes at them which they couldn't hear, but
they were laughing anyway. Beth began wondering about the others and the courses
they were doing. She felt like an outsider as she imagined an art student should, but
she was potently aware of them seeming more middle-class and entitled to be there and
this unsettled her. She had pushed and shoved her way into art college, ignoring her
Dad's protestations and the misogyny of the lecturer who'd interviewed her. She was
driven by this need to escape. The past two years training as a nurse had left her feeling
desperate. Some patients remained with her, drifting in and out of her day like ghosts.
Brennan, with his taught skin grafts and tortured eyes pleading from his immobile face.
Laura, speechless after a heart attack in her twenties, all cheeky smiles and infectious
giggles despite. There were others who she gently chided in her mind for muscling in on her
life, but felt guilty about abandoning. Twenty and world-weary, Beth surveyed her student
companions enviously as they swayed around, off on an adventure, laughing and joshing
with innocent abandon.
Tumbling out of the Landrover onto the airfield, they saw the little plane loitering and
became quiet. A tall, smiling sky-diver came to greet them and they followed him to one
of the huts where they knew they would have to pack their own parachutes. Inside was
buzzing. Long trestle tables were strewn with the bright colours of parachutes being
checked and packed by sky-divers in their flamboyant suits which flared voluminously
at the ankles. Beth was impressed by their apparent nonchalance and swagger. She longed to
feel so carefree. As she checked her parachute for holes, the heavy burden of being
responsible for her own life invigorated her. The hairs on the back of her neck started to
prickle.
Back on the airfield, they watched the sky-divers take their turn to leap, descending like
psychedelic bats with arms and legs spread wide and suits flapping in the air. The wind
was too strong to let the novices jump and as the day wore on and it seemed less likely
they would be able to, Jenny and the lads went off to wander around the airfield talking to the
other groups of students as they lounged in the various vehicles they had arrived in.
Beth remained trying to read but ended up dozing, slumped in the back of their Landcover
alone.
Towards midday, she sat up and started to nibble on the block of halva she always bought
for this kind of situation. Suddenly, she saw that one group were being led to the little
plane and the halva lodged itself in her throat. A weakness overtook her body that she
recognised as fear. She watched the plane rise and circle then her breathing paused as
she waited for the first person to appear. It was a long moment before the small figure
dropped. Beth counted the seconds in a whisper to mark the time before the
parachute cascaded open and everyone on the airfield erupted with cheers and applause.
A couple more groups went up and came down with varying degrees of success. Some
people landed in fields miles away and vehicles had to be sent to collect them. Someone
landed in a tree which looked painful and a few hurt their ankles on hitting the ground.
Gradually, the wind picked up again and the burst of activity had to stop. Fatigue
overcame Maggie and she lay down on the sacks once more. If she didn't get a chance
to jump today, she didn't think she'd be able to muster the courage to return.
As the sun was beginning to set, one of the trainers came over and invited Beth and
her group to prepare for their jump. Beth roused herself and fumbled with her suit
and boots, heart pounding erratically. Jenny began talking excitedly, but Beth could
make no response. She approached the plane as if walking under the ocean.
They were all unprepared for the noise and the unsteadiness of the small plane as it
sped along the runway to take off. It clattered and bumped and rushed along and the
four of them began to laugh at the effort of it, so the sudden sensation of gently
rising from the earth felt like a miraculous impossibility which drew a communal gasp.
They climbed and climbed until the airfield became a mere patch in a large quilt of
greens and greys. Beth watched abstractedly as her two male companions disappeared
through the gaping doorway. Jenny was huddled as far back in the plane as she could
get so as not to witness their descent. Phil drew Beth to the front of the plane. As
they circled the airfield, he pointed out landmarks and structures, quietly conveying
his own sense of enjoyment and wonder at being above the world. Beth's eyes were
filled with the deep orange of the spreading sunset and that familiar Calm crept into
their company. She looked at Phil and saw his radiance. He smiled at her and asked
" are you ready ? ".
As she crouched over the open doorway, the fast moving air gushing into her nose, time
stretched into eternity. The plane flew, the ground moved, the air flowed and she
paused on the brink. Phil, kneeling beside her, went over the procedures again and,
counting her down, she leaned forward at his " Go ! " . Air rushing, streaming, gasping,
gaping, speed entering her brain until she remembered to count. The rhythm of the
numbers focussed her until she was able to clumsily tug at the cord. A pause, speed
rushing, then a wonderful thud as the parachute bloomed above her and peace
descended. She gazed all around and down as she gently rocked and floated in the
sudden silence.
For the remainder of her life, Beth was able to remember that silence and summon the
feeling of peace so that it became a marker by which she could measure her feelings.
That other moment, when she had looked out from the open door of the plane gaping at
the space between herself and safety, she chose to bury somewhere deep until more
than thirty years later, when, huddled over her laptop, she watched Felix Baumgartner
pause for eternity at the open door of his capsule twenty four miles above the Earth,
before his guide gently encouraged him to make his leap of faith. Transfixed, she held
her breath, the vacuum of that point in time, the heightened senses, the vividness of being
alive, enveloped her once more.
Some years later still, Beth's in her loft, sorting through the hoard of accumulated
stuff she has avoided until this eleventh hour. The climb up the ladder has become so
painful it's been a barrier to confronting it all, but the removal men will be arriving
tomorrow morning, so she has had to endure it. She is surrounded by a vast hoard of
objects she has been unable to part with, imagining that to do so would tear her
soul apart. She is unable to understand this fear and although she knows she must sort
through these precious objects and only keep a handful, she has no idea how to choose.
Rummaging manically, panic mounting, she unearths a yellowing newspaper article about
Felix's record-breaking jump and begins to read his honest account of the experience and
the build-up to it. As he describes his feelings to the point of jumping and the parachute
opening, the sharp brilliance of those moments are once more recalled vividly. Beth folds
the clipping, puts it in her pocket, then rises and steps towards the open hatch of the loft with a
broad smile spreading across her face. She descends empty-handed. The hoard will remain
intact and the next owners will initially curse her then delight in the curiosities they find.
Meanwhile, Beth can go to her bed and dream of flying.
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