I did not look back. The boat headed straight out into the bay for a time and I looked down at the water and it was calm, it looked as stiff as vinyl, like I’d bounce off it if I fell. But it was very fine being up here. I was very aware of being alone. Off to my right about a hundred meters was a little pack of pelicans heading back toward the beach. They were returning but I was still on the way out. The wind whistled faintly in my ears and it struck me that this was not the ravishing physical experience I’d expected it to be. My feet dangled down, but there was no heaviness in them, like the ride at the carnivals where you sit in a chair and they swing you around. My feet just dangled like I was a child in a tall chair. I was not frightened. The harness held me tight and I gripped the ropes and I looked down at the sea, the green wake of the boat ripping apart the great brown stain from the mountains.
And the boat turned now and headed along the coast and my parachute brought me around and I was as high as the highest hotel, but I pondered the long stretch of Puerto Vallarta along the beach as calmly as if it was a mural on a wall. I was flying but I was very quiet inside. This was more like a certain kind of dream, where you can fly and everything is peaceful. Or it was like I’d left my body, the way some people on the Donahue show had done when everyone thought they were dead. I was separated from my body.
And now I looked back over my shoulder and found the beach and the three tiny figures there, still standing in a row, still gawking, probably. So I turned around and let go of the rope and let my hands dangle like my feet and I felt the air flowing against my face and I drifted there, thinking, Yes, I just died and it’s all very nice and I won’t have to worry about anything on the planet Earth anymore.
And this feeling lasted for however long it was that I was in the air. It was probably no more than ten minutes, but it seemed much longer, which struck me as odd later, because I enjoyed the experience, I truly did, and usually that makes time go fast. But I floated along and the boat turned and headed back the opposite way and I swung around, too, in a long curve, very graceful, like a gesture I might make with my hand if I was a big movie star. And I was nearer to the shore on the return trip. I was only a little ways out over the sea and I could clearly see the hotel pools passing, the bodies all laid out in the sun.
Then I found myself moving nearer to the shore and nearer still, and I was over the beach. I looked ahead and saw the boat curving out to sea, but it must have slowed because I was starting to come down. That’s when I heard the whistle. I looked ahead and I could see the beach where I’d taken off. It was not far away. The whistle blew again, insistent, and I felt a little knot cinch in my stomach. I had something to do now. The rope over my right shoulder. I reached up and grabbed it just as I was supposed to. I pulled it.
It didn’t move. It was a heavy rope. Hard to pull. The knot inside me cinched tighter and I pulled as hard as I could. The rope gave a bit, but not nearly as much as it was supposed to. Pull it down by your ear, I remembered the man say. I pulled harder and it budged a bit further and my muscles clamped up in my fist and down my arm and under my arm and down my side all the way to my hip.
I was coming down, down, and I was curving a little, but I could see already I was in trouble. The curve wasn’t sharp enough to bring me into the path to the waiting men and the three faces of Frank and Eileen and Vinh, which I could see very clearly for one moment. Their eyes were wide and their jaws were dropping and my arm and side were trembling now and shot full of flames and I didn’t know if I could even hold the rope down at all for much longer. The Mexicans were running up the beach and I saw a line of coconut trees at the back of a hotel and I was heading straight for them, I was at about the fourth-floor level and falling fast, like an elevator out of control, the third floor and the trees were dipping like they were afraid of me but they couldn’t run, and I fell past the second floor.
I lifted my other arm and grabbed the rope with both hands and I pulled as hard as I could and I closed my eyes and the rope gave some more and I felt myself veer away and a man’s voice rushed from beneath me and it said, “Caramba!” and then my feet hit the sand hard and I flexed at the knees and came up standing but I was instantly moving forward again, dragged along the sand, and then there were hands on me, many hands, and I was upright again.
But I was laughing. My eyes were open and I was laughing, though I wished I was back in the sky, especially since everyone was rushing over to me like I’d just fainted or something. Eileen cried, “Are you all right?” as she approached and I looked and I saw Vinh running beside her. His face was sweet. His lower lip was pushed up like he was pouting, like he was a little boy and pouting at some very bad news. Then Frank came from around the other side of Eileen and he was running fast and was the first one to get to me.
“You’re one gutsy lady,” he said. “Airborne all the way.” And he brushed the Mexican boy aside who was taking off my harness and Frank’s big hands went flick, flick, and I was free. He took me by the arm and turned me toward Vinh, who finally arrived, puffing.
“I’m fine,” I said firmly to them all. “Don’t make a fuss.”
Vinh pulled up before me and he said, low, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” I said in a voice as low as his but as sharp as I could make it.
He looked into my eyes and nodded and then he shook his head. “I suppose the only thing to do after an adventure on a parachute is to go to a movie set.”
Eileen’s face snapped toward Vinh and she said, “Great idea.”
I wasn’t sure what r thought of the way this all came about. Did he think I went up on a parachute to force his hand on this? Like I was a child threatening to do myself harm if I didn’t get my way? It wasn’t true, if that’s what he thought. At that moment I would’ve traded the whole trip to Mismaloya for one more flight over the sea. But, of course, that wasn’t possible.
Frank said, “Outstanding,” and I figured I would at least get a chance to watch these two men together a little more closely.
So Eileen and I went back to our rooms and changed from our bathing suits, both of us reappearing in the hallway almost simultaneously and in record time, for we did not want the men to have a chance to change their minds. We met them in the lobby and we all stepped out the front doors of the hotel together to a chorus of “Hey, taxi” from half a dozen men in sandals and jeans. Vinh stepped a little in front of Frank and motioned for the first man in line and I drew near to the two men because they interested me very much.
“Dodgers,” Frank snorted, and I’m sure Vinh did not know what he was talking about, but when the taxi rolled up in front of us and the driver sprung out, he was wearing a Los Angeles Dodgers baseball cap. I knew the cap from television. Many of the actors on television series wear baseball caps and this one was very popular, though I liked the bright red color and the tangle of letters on the cap of the St. Louis Cardinals the best.
The driver saw me looking at his cap, I think, and he did a surprising thing. He tipped it to me, and he opened the back door. He was a man about the same age as Vinh and me, perhaps forty — could see it around his eyes and in the smudge of gray in his hair — but there was a bounce to him that was very young.