When I was a kid, I had this recurring dream where I tripped and fell in the backyard. It never hurt when I hit the ground, instead I’d just bounce into the air. Each time I came down, I’d bounce a little higher, a little slower.
Every night, for weeks, I would go to sleep knowing that this dream was waiting for me. I’d lay in bed, waiting for the horrible feeling of my stomach dropping out from under me with each bounce. It’s been practically burned in my memory ever since.
It didn’t take long for me to start looking for ways to recreate that terrifying feeling when I was awake. I hated it, but I needed it. At first, just stepping off a high step would do it. I’d stand on a box with my toes peeking over the edge, my heart beating a mile a minute, and feel the adrenaline pump through my body. Soon, I was leaping off ladders and fences, and even jumped off the roof of Tommy Maddox’s garage once. I couldn’t stop.
The first time I saw her, I’d just gone for my fourth round on the Terror Tower. It was a lime green monstrosity at the county fair that shot you ten stories into the air before dropping you back down again just as fast. It scared the hell out of me, leaving me short of breath and barely able to walk. I was hooked.
“Is he okay?” she asked, as my friends helped me to a bench across from the ride after my fourth time on it. I don’t remember what they said. All I remember was the beautiful girl standing in front of me. In an instant, I was lost in deep brown eyes, tight black curls, and dark skin. She placed a cool hand on the back of mine before telling me that everything would be fine.
She sat down next to me on the bench, and I did my best to not throw up. I don’t think I even noticed when my friends disappeared into the crowd, leaving us alone. I sat with her for awhile in silence. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, just silence. Finally she looked at me and smiled.
“I’m Alicia,” she said. I knew that instant that I’d never heard a sweeter sounding name.
“Tyrone.” I tried to think of all the things I wanted to say to her. The words crowded each other out in my mind. My brain was grasping for anything to keep the conversation going, convince her that I was cool. I opened my mouth, and nothing came out. Whenever I looked at her, I felt that familiar sensation in my stomach
“Your friends seem nice,” she finally said.
I shrugged. “They’re all right, I guess.”
“If they’re just all right,” she said, “why are they your friends?”
“We’ve known each other since we were little.” I stared at my hands. They were shaking, but I didn’t know if it was from the Tower or from how close she was sitting. “Better than not having any friends, right?”
“If you say so,” she said, looking around at the people walking past us. A few kids barreled through the crowd on their way to the Terror Tower, and we both watched the gondola slowly climb to the top. I felt a little shudder run through my body as the car plummeted towards the ground.
“So what happened up there?” she asked, nodding towards the ride.
I closed my eyes, thinking about the rush of adrenaline as I fell, like every inch of my body was screaming at one second. “I’ve been riding it all morning. Every time I come here, it’s the only thing I ride, even though it scares the hell out of me.”
“If you’re so scared of heights, why do you keep making yourself go up to these places?”
”I’m not scared of heights,” I started to say, the words dying before they reached my mouth. I didn’t have a way to explain it to her. I barely understood it myself.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.
“No, no, it’s okay,” I replied. “It’s just something that I have to do. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“Maybe you can show me,” she said, taking my hand and dragging me towards the Terror Tower.
The line was short, and we didn’t have to wait long. They strapped us into our seats. The operator slowly made his way around the ride, checking each harness. I had a tight grip on the handle bars, and my heart was racing.
Alicia’s hand settled on mine, and I felt myself relax a little. The gondola began the long climb upwards. She reached out with her other hand, and pulled my face towards hers. I focused on her dark brown eyes, and the feel of her soft skin against mine. For a minute, it felt like we were two parts of the same person.
I was so focused on her that I didn’t notice when we reached the top. Staring in her eyes, I felt that familiar sensation as we dropped. She laughed at the fear on my face, but it wasn’t a mocking kind of laugh. It felt warm and inviting. In that moment, I knew why I’d been obsessed with it, why I’d chased this feeling over and over again. She made it all make sense.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” she said, patting my arm while we were waiting for operator. “Lots of people are afraid of heights.”
“It’s not a fear of heights,” I said to her, staring into her eyes.
“It’s a fear of falling,” she said with a smile, cutting me off as she pulled me in for a kiss.
©2016 Chris Page. All rights reserved.