Double or Quit

I should never have accepted Jonny’s dare, as I’ve never had a head for heights. 

He was used to teasing the stratosphere and dive-bombing into the abyss and his career trajectory reflected his ability to recover from anything; everyone in the business agreed he was indestructible. Jonny put it all down to self-belief and boundless good fortune. However, he now believed the hype. 

#

Did I feel that lucky? No, I didn’t, but then maybe I had more to lose. His life was a rollercoaster of endless speculation and gamesmanship. He’d risk everything to increase his advantage every time. The more he lost, the more he wagered and sometimes he’d win big. After the last big job, I said it was time to get out and settle down. Jonny wouldn’t have it, he wanted to take his share and put it all on the outside runner. He tried to persuade me to go in with him and put everything we’d worked for on the long shot; the deal of a lifetime.

I’d seen enough crashes to say “no more”. The big real estate deal we’d pulled off on the Eastern seaboard was spectacular, but I wouldn’t want to live there at any price. Jonny had played the construction guys and the local council like a dream. The building work was underway, but who’d want to live on the coast nowadays. They’re saying the sea’s rising so fast that by the time the development’s been sold off and inhabited, they’ll be selling sandbags to stop the water creeping under the doors.

I’ve always trusted my instinct and I’ve seen enough dodgy contacts to want out. 

I was with Jonny at a casino one night and we’d lost and regained a pile of blue chips. He wanted to carry on, and I left him to it. I’d just won big on a red seven on the roulette wheel. I cashed in my winnings and went home. Jonny stayed and continued, regardless of my gut feeling. Jonny never knew when to call it a night. He was a born gambler, and that’s why he was where he was. 

When I saw him two days later, he’d doubled his money. I couldn’t believe it. I’d played it safe, and he didn’t stop when I left the premises. He’d felt a ‘good vibe’ and he knew he would win. Mind you, he’d lost everything and borrowed from our company to cover his losses before winning it back. I didn’t react when he told me because I thought he was joking. I checked our company’s business account and sure enough. At three in the morning, he’d transferred two million out and six hours later he’d paid back four.

I mentioned it to Carol in bed and she hit the roof. She always told me straight and often guessed when there was a deal going on that wasn’t by the book. 

“You’ve got to move on, Gerry,” she’d say. “Jonny’s going to drag us down and we’ll lose everything.”

“Don’t worry,” I’d say to her. 

“Convince me, otherwise,” she’d respond. 

We’d undergone this exchange many times over. It was fun at first, but now?

“We’ve got to set up our own company,” she’d say, “do it our way and do it right.”

Were we in too deep? Could Jonny stop us moving on?

#

The sky dive was supposed to be a fun trip. I’d never wanted to do it, and yet I couldn’t say no. Jonny was a thrill seeker, and he knew how to put peer pressure on me. I couldn’t be seen to duck out from the arrangements. 

“What will the clients think?” He’d said. “You can’t pull out, it’s all part of the deal.”

Carol gave me the silent treatment when I told her about the event. She’d been feeding Chloe. 

“It’s a dare,” I told her. “The clients are paying for the plane and everything.” 

Carol spilt the chocolate porridge on the carpet as she jolted her head to face me. Her eyes were on fire, and she bit her bottom lip. I said nothing about the spillage. Chloe gurgled and batted her little fists at the spoon quivering in Carol’s fingers.

“It’ll be fine,” I said. “Jonny knows what he’s doing.”

“Why do you say that?” she whispered. “Has he got wings now?”

“Well, he said it would---”

“Don’t expect me to feed you gloop in the ICU, Gerry.”

“We’ve got parachutes and everything---”

“I wouldn’t be too sure, baby.” Carol turned her attention to our daughter.

Chloe chomped away on her remaining cereal, and I left for work.

#

We attended two practice sessions at the aerodrome’s flight centre before the big day. They had a two hundred-foot training tower and safety harnesses to get us used to the ground rush. The clients from Brewster’s construction attended, too. The two Brewster’s boys were in high spirits, and it was all very good humoured and very competitive. Jonny had a great feeling that we were going to score a big one after this. If anyone had concerns, it didn’t show. 

Jonny was fearless and led the way. I played my part and went through the rehearsals, too. We were all up for it and looking forward to the real jump from 25,000 feet. The practice jumps have got to be the most exciting experience of my life, but the real thing was another prospect.

I hadn’t realised Jonny had a bet going on with the clients. It was to be a double dare on the day. Jonny had a lot riding on the jump, and I was about to be part of it. He’d agreed with Peter Brewster that they’d play double or quit with the building contract. It would depend on who opened their parachute last. Winner takes all.

“So, just to be clear,” Carol said, “You’ve agreed not open your parachute---” 

“Until the very last second.” I said. My voice drifted as I explained. “I don’t think anybody will do that, I think---”

“You think?” she said, “I don’t think you’ve thought about this at all.”

“It’s a great deal for us if we call their bluff---”

“This isn’t some game of chicken on bicycles, Gerry,” she said, squinting her eyes and furrowing her forehead.

“Yeah, but if---”

“But if nothing, baby,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Go ahead with this and Chloe and I are out of here.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not,” she said, squinting her pursed lips to one side. “This is the end, Gerry.”

It was too late to back out the whole deal. The Brewster business was all settled on handshakes, and that was that. I had to go along with it and figure out my life later.

#

On the day we meet the Brewsters at the airfield, as arranged. No one had chickened out as yet and we had one for the road in the flight-school’s bar. The landlord is cleaning the optics when we arrive but opens his reserve single malt to celebrate the occasion. Jonny’s on excellent form and does an outstanding job of lifting everyone’s spirits. He introduces us to our pilot, Peter Conway and his co-pilot Will Hanworth. Peter has an easy-going and confident air about him and suppresses any immediate concerns. He’s ex-military with twenty years of experience as a commercial pilot.

Will looked like the sort of guy you’d want around if the parachute didn’t open. He’s a gentle giant, with a quiet disposition and a handshake like wheel clamp.

# 

There’s a charged atmosphere as we climb on board the runway transport vehicle. We’re all familiar with the jump routine and far too macho to discuss the parachute opening process. Jonny confirms last-minute details with our pilot, checking that the current air speed and wind direction are in accordance with our training. The plan is to ascend to 25,000 feet and drift south, back down to the airfield. We pull straws to decide our order for leaving the aircraft.

#

At 24,000 feet, we all bump fists and prepare to exit the aircraft. The noise is deafening and we can only communicate with sign language. Will opens the fuselage door and motions for us to stand in line. The view is both stunning and vertiginous at the same time. Jonny’s first, Jim Brewster’s second, I’m third and Phil Brewster’s last. I turn off my phone, but not before spotting a text from Carol.

“Good luck, luv C & C xxx.”

My stomach rumbles and tightens at the thought of what’s coming at 25,000 feet. I’ve not thought this through. What am I doing? I give thumbs up and the Brewsters return my signal. Jonny’s staring down at all those green fields and distant trees below us. He turns his head and gives a crooked smile as he stands. 

Will gives Jonny the “go ahead” and he rolls forward out of the plane, headfirst. He levels out and disappears from my immediate view. I scan the Brewsters and gauge their reactions. Jim looks round at me and his brother. His eyes are blood shot and watery. He clutches either side of the doorframe and looks out again. Will slaps Jim on his back to signal his turn and he stands rigid. His boots are planted on the solid metal flooring and his toes are teetering over the edge. I look at Phil and he shakes his head and reaches out for his brother’s arm. Jim retreats from the doorway and slumps down on the passenger seat. His face is pale, and he looks as though he’s going to be sick. It’s a no-show; he’s not playing today.

Will shakes his head and looks at me and Phil. I nod, and he signals for me to advance into position. Phil shakes his head and takes a seat next to Jim. Will gives me an “OK” and I walk towards the void. The ground is so far away. Will slaps me on my back. I get check my ripcord location and step forward. 

The plane is disappearing behind me. The cold air is rushing past my cheeks. I tumble and steady my descent as I level out. I assume the horizontal posture I’ve learned during the training sessions. My speed decreases as my billowing jumpsuit increases the drag coefficient. 

Jonny is rising towards me. His clothes are acting like a canopy and suppressing his descent. He flutters, rolls and manoeuvres to within reach. He raises two fingers and points upwards. I shake my head and shrug and display my gloved palms. He shows his teeth as the skin on his face billows in the wind. It’s a victorious smile that betrays a feral spirit. He extends his arm to touch my gloved hand. I feel his rigid leather stitching scratch against the soft leather covering my fingertips. 

He’s won the battle, but it’s not enough. 

I point at my watch and make a pulling movement. He shakes his head and unhooks the buckles on his shoulders. He loosens the chest straps holding his pack in place. My eyes widen as I realise what he’s doing. Jonny wriggles his arms free from the webbing and with both hands he separates both parts of the waist belt from their central locking mechanism. He opens his fingers and the pack whisks up and away. 

The ground is rushing towards us. 

I can make out vehicles glinting on the tarmac in the evening sunlight. I reach for my ripcord and pull. He looks me straight in the eye as his parachute pack disappears from view.

My pilot chute catches the air and inflates. I’m pulled upward and my speed decreases. My suspension lines extend and the main dome’s fabric fills up and increases my air resistance. There is a mighty yank on my harness. I decelerate, and Jonny slides out of reach.

He raises his hand and waves as we go our separate ways. I stare at him with a lack of comprehension. Jonny had got what he wanted. He’d bluffed his way into a cost free contract. The battle was won, and the enemy was defeated.

Down below, Jonny’s body straightens, and he extends his arms and legs into a cross formation. Between his limbs are billowing flaps of material that inflate and act as artificial wings. His trajectory is way off line and he’s careering toward the open water of the reservoir south of the airfield. 

That was the last I saw of Jonny and the last time we worked together. His body was never found and after a brief investigation by the authorities, the case was dropped. Jonny never gave me any sign that anything was untoward, although the police suspected foul play. I was contacted by Jonny’s solicitor a week after the incident and given a hand written envelope and letter. It was a note concerning our future arrangements. Jonny had left the business in my name should our sky-diving event go awry.

The End

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