A thoughtful look appears. “It’s just something I think everybody should get a chance to do,” she says. “Explaining the experience itself wouldn’t do it justice, though. I think it’s a little different for everybody—kind of like a personalized brush with God, or whatever it is you draw your spirituality from.” She smiles and leans back, holding her petite weight up on her arms, her hands pressed flat against the grass.
The plane lifts off the ground and buzzes into the sky, becoming smaller and smaller as it flies higher into the blue ether.
I really do wish that I wasn’t so afraid. I’ve been afraid all my life and there comes a point when all you want to do is be free of it, when you begin to actually see yourself doing things you never thought you’d do. A year ago, I never gave a first, much less a second, thought to something like sitting in the window seat of a plane and deliberately looking out, or riding in a helicopter. But right now, as I sit on this grass under the bright sun, watching that plane become a little black dot in the sky above me, I can see myself doing it. And it’s not just because of Luke that I feel this way; I feel like I want to be able to do it for myself, so that I can beat this fear and finally know what freedom feels like. But I know that if I’d never met Luke, or Seth, or Kendra, or even Alicia, I’d still be doing the same thing I was doing two weeks ago in my comfort zone, and not being inspired by any of it.
“What about BASE jumping?” I ask Alicia, my mood growing dimmer all of a sudden.
“That’s a whole ’nother ball game,” she says. “Skydiving, like I said, is really safe. BASE jumping, on the other hand, is … well, there’s a saying: ‘It’s the next best thing to suicide.’ ”
I swallow tensely and what was left of my smile fades in an instant.
“What’s the difference?” I ask. “I mean, both are jumping from extreme heights and landing with a parachute.”
“Well, there’s a huge difference,” Alicia says. “With skydiving, it’s all in the wide open and there’s nothing around for you to hit. Plus you go much higher up—twelve, fourteen thousand feet or more, and have plenty of time to pull your chute. With BASE, you’re jumping from much lower heights—an average of a thousand feet or so. And you’re jumping from cliffs and buildings and bridges and towers—all kinds of stuff you can hit on the way down.”
I grimace, thinking about it.
“Why do you do it, then?” I ask.
Alicia smiles over at me. “Nothing makes you feel more alive than being that close to death.”
I say nothing.
After a few moments staring into the sky, Alicia says, “I’m starting to wonder about Luke though.”
I look over.
“What about him?”
She shrugs, her gaze still peering into the encompassing blue.
“I dunno, but I’m thinkin’ maybe his heart isn’t as into BASE as it used to be.”
I feel a little guilty for thinking it, but this news, if it’s true, makes me hopeful.
I sit quietly, looking right at her, and she finally returns the gesture.
“I think he just feels really guilty,” she goes on. “But what do I know?”
I smile back at her, but it’s totally forced.
“Though I have to say,” she adds, “Luke may not be feelin’ it anymore, but ever since you came around, he seems a lot”—she shrugs, contemplating—“I dunno, happier, I guess. Landon’s death really messed him up. But it’s been almost a year, and instead of getting better, he just seemed to be getting worse up until recently.” She smiles in what I perceive as a thankful manner. “Maybe you’re just what he needed.”
Somehow her comment doesn’t make me feel like I desperately want it to: happy and warm inside. I’m not sure what it is I feel exactly, but it’s strange and dark and I don’t like it and I wish it’d just go away.
“Are you two gonna see each other after you leave Hawaii?” she asks.
“I hope so.”
“Yeah, well, I hope so, too,” she says, shaking her head and gazing back out at the sky. “I hate to see Luke falling back into that dark place once you’re gone.” She beams over at me. “Besides, I like yah; his past girlfriends, not so much.”
The only thing I hear is: I hate to see Luke falling back into that dark place once you’re gone.
That strange, dark feeling that doesn’t have a name—just go away!