Skydiving is Hell

  My cousin Jake manages “It’s a Party”. He comes up with ideas for people who got nothing better to do with their money. Some just want a disco set up and music going all night. He gets about 4,250 bucks for setting that up. He has set up a ferris wheel and a merry go round for 12 thou a night. Jake is always rollin’ in dough. He’s got about a dozen disc jockeys he can call, and a carnival of clowns to jazz things up, even a couple of nice looking strip teasers. I’ve even got a few bucks at those deals. I’m mainly a bartender, and I’m good. I do okay at my regular little bar, but now and then do a few of Jake’s gigs. He pays good.

  A few weeks ago I hear my cell phone’s ring. I had it set to the popeye theme song. “Yeah?” I answer. It’s Jake. “Hey, Frankie, how ya doin’, kid?” These cheerful greeting sounded a little phony, coming from Jake. I immediately frown, and kind of hold the phone at arm’s length. “I’m good, Jake.” I pause for a minute, wondering what’s up here. “Hey Frankie, I got a clown gig none of my guys can do. Well, they’re a bunch a’ chickens, that’s what. Look, you did that sky diving stuff when you was in the Army right? Airborne, save our country kind of stuff, right?” I get the idea I ain’t going to like the next sentence, so I interrupt, “Jake, come on man, that was when I was a kid, almost twenty years ago...” Jake goes quiet for a few seconds. “Look man, ain’t it like ridin’ a bike, like that? Anyway, I got this guy, he does movies, directs stuff. You’ve seen Amistad, he helped do it, and he’s got a new one coming out. He wants like the sky full of fireworks and this guy in a banana costume holding some sparklers to fly out of those explosions... look, I can pay you ten grand if you do it.”

  “Jake, Jake..” I say, “Jake, I’m an old guy now, almost fifty for gods sake. I wouldn’t jump out of a plane in daylight for..for fifty thousand!” Jake goes quiet, but I think I can hear his teeth clicking, grinding in thought... “Okay, Frankie, I’ll make it seventy five thousand. The guy is only paying me $200 thou, and I’ve got some other special effects. Come on. Without the sky dive, I don’t get the gig. Help your cousin out here, Frankie...”

  So, here I am up in this little rusty airplane. Jake paid the pilot, and all. There was a little dry rehearsal with the fireworks guys, where they aim, what’s the timing. We had a good meeting, and I sure didn’t want to meet one of those sky rockets on my way down. I can’t sit in this stiff banana suit, so I’m on my knees, watching my watch, so that the timing works. So far, down the runway and up is right on schedule. Let’s see, 10:15, of course it’s dark tonight, not even a moon. In 21 minutes I do the jump. I’ve got the two sparklers, about the size of flares on a necklace. I’ve got my gloves on. I do a test reach for the pull device. It’s like a tennis ball attached to a cord. Its at the bottom of the chute, I can just touch it in this silly suit. Okay, the door’s open. I look out to see if the fireworks started.  Nothing but dark.

  There it went. A golden glow with a shower of stars, hey, good one. I look at my watch. Thirty seconds away. The plane does a little lurch from an air pocket. That made my stomach tighten up, so I suck in a deep breath. Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, I hold the side bar, watching for the blue flourescent circle around the cake. I see it. Its about the size of a quarter. The red fireworks fills the sky below. That’s the signal. I push off.

  This is great. Been too many years. I’m an old guy skydiving in the dark. Ooops, I’m supposed to count. Let’s see, slow, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, I reach for the ball. Oh, god, this stiff suit makes it hard to touch. I arch my back, but that ain’t as easy any more. I grunt, pull. I feel a back muscle twang. Ohh. Darn. I guess I can’t do this any more. I lean to the right, my fingers desperately scratching the side of the folded chute. Ah, there. No, it moves away. I can feel panic coming on. I reach, my left shoulder against my cheek, my fingers scrambling for the ball. 

Reach, arch, ah, got it. I pull and for a short moment, nothing.  But then, I feel the yank of the chute opening. I reach for the ‘steering’ cords lost above me. I find them. Now I can guide. I look down. Dam, I can’t see the circle. I look over both shoulders. Oh, crap, to the left. I fight the cords but get it to turn. I’m now okay headed for it. Dammit. I’m supposed to light the sparklers. I hope this works. I scratch one’s head on the grit apron on my belly. Scritch, scritch. It starts. The other one in my left is not as easy. I scrape it six times before it ignites. Oh this is tricky. I need to pull the guide cords and hold these stupid things. I hope they don’t catch the cords on fire. Okay, just a little pull to the right. It’s working. I’m coming right down into the circle. I see the top of the fake cake. I can hear women screeching in delight and happy yelling.

  Bam. I hit the cake perfect, but it topples off the table with me in it. I’m sliding across this huge patio, headed for a massive swimming pool. I snap the cords and chute loose, and do a little roll, not easy in this suit. I make it to my feet, and do the banana dance I rehearsed. The crowd is delighted, wow looks like over 500 people here. They’re clapping and cheering. I take a stiff bow that almost makes me fall forward on my face. Then the orchestra breaks into song.

Everyone’s happy. I can go home now.

Write a story about a character who gets lost at a carnival or festival.

Set your story at a party that has gone horribly wrong.

Write about a reluctant party-goer who ends up being the star of the show.

Write your story about two characters tidying up after a party.

Write a story about a character who’s nervous to attend a party - their first in a long time.