Why the h--- am I doing this?
My breathing is fast and uneven threatening on hyperventilating. My hands grip the large metal staples in the side of the telephone pole. The rock climbing equipment around my waist urges me up toward the platform looming overhead.
I remember, this was the second step to face and overcome my fear, but why?
I look to my right and see the lamp post that must have been thirty feet tall when I was on the ground. I am level with the top of it now. That was it, that was all that I needed. My heart races and my breathing has turned to hyperventilation. The dry Arizona air makes every breath catch in my throat, making it impossible to scream.
“Don't panic, it's okay. Your sense of self preservation is strong. It's what makes you afraid. It's a sign of intelligence.” The instructor called up to me from the safety of the ground. I think his name was Jim.
“Intelligence? If I were intelligent I wouldn't be doing this.” I say to myself, but I must have said it rather loud because I could hear Jim laugh.
“Let go with your hands and lean back on the rope. I got you.”
I do let go of the staples, but I don't lean back on the rope. Instead, I wrap my arms tightly around the pole and yell back, “Yeah, no way in h---, dude!”
I lick my lips and taste salt from tears that had started leaking out without my knowing. I close my eyes and push my forehead into the rough wood of the pole. I could hear a raven croaking from the tree just beyond the fence. Looking from the corner of my eye I could see it stretch its wings and take off, rising higher and higher until it makes lazy circles well above the platform. It was so high up.
“Screw you,” I growl into the pole.
I unwrap my arms and grab the staples again. My legs have lost all feeling, so I have to force myself to look down to find the next staple to step on. With each step, the platform comes closer, the ground further away. My arms are shaking now, fingers have the tingling sensation just before numbness sets in.
“Come on, Aria.” I whine to myself, “You wanted to fly. That's your dream isn't it?”
My legs and arms find a new strength in their weakened state and propel me up the remaining ten feet of the pole to the platform. I grab the last staple in a death grip and haul myself over the platform edge in a final heave. I grab at the planks as the platform sways in the breeze. The instructor at the top hollers down to Jim and disconnects me from the climbing equipment, quickly hooking me to the zip line. The loop connecting the equipment around my waist and the line clicks closed, locking me to this fate.
I take a second to look off to the mountains in the distance in attempt to ground myself, I couldn't help but think that they would have looked just as pretty from the ground. My eyes wander from the horizon straight down to the shadow of the platform, forty feet below.
“Whenever you are ready.” The instructor says, drawing my attention from the ground. He's sitting with his feet dangling off the edge of the platform, patting the planks beside him where I'm supposed to sit. Hesitantly, I sit down and scoot to the edge only a few inches at a time. Once my legs begin dangling off the side, I glance over to the instructor's name tag. Alex. I'll remember that name. I'll probably shout it along with many insults and many profanities on the way down.
“Alright,” Alex says, clapping his hands together, “Whenever you are ready, just slide off as if you were sliding into a pool.”
I look at him and roll my eyes internally, I can't swim, so I never 'just slide off into a pool.' I've almost drowned three times. I take a deep breath. Water is another fear for another time. I grab tightly on the rope that is attached to the line. The end is a good two hundred feet away. Letting my eyes wander again, they fixate on the ground once more. I'm tempted to kick off one of my shoes to see how long it would take for it to hit solid ground.
“I don't suppose you can count to three and push me on two or something.” I ask Alex, hating the trembling in my voice.
“Nope, sorry.” He replies, smiling.
No, you're not. For a couple minutes I attempt to distract myself in order to slip off the edge, but nothing worked. I turn and talk to Alex, stalling for time, but it is all idle banter as pointless as trying to calm my heart as I sit on the brink of falling.
Okay, think of something to scream as I plummet to my death, that should make it a little easier. Okay, but what should I scream? I think of the heroes in the TV shows I avidly watch, their brave acts as they save the world. One stood out from the rest. The British show about a madman in a blue police call box that would save the universe. For him this would be nothing. I want to be strong like him. If I could put all of his courage in one word or just one phrase he said...
I got it. It scared me, but before I could stop myself, I pushed off from the platform.
“Allons-y!”
The few seconds of free falling seemed like an eternity.