Leap Year

"Okay now.  Just go ahead and lean out there."

"Lean out?  Lean out?!?  What the hell?"

"It's okay, I've got your back.  I'm holding on to you here.  You don't go til you want to go."

"I already don't want to go, let's just get that straight right now."

"Time of your life."

"Says you.  Jesus.  I'm going to die here."

"Time of your life."

"You've still got a hold of me, right?"

"I've got ya."

"Jesus.  Holy shit.  Holy shit, man."

I lean out.

"Okay, dude, now let go of those hand grips there and put your arms out to your sides..."

"You still holding on?  You got me?"

"I've still got ya.  You're fine."

"Holy shit."

"Okay, here ya go.  Three, two, one..."

~~~~~

Six days earlier, Nine Inch Nails throbs in my ears, smothering the air around me.

Head like a hole

Black as your soul

Ring...

I'd rather die

Than give you control

Riiiiiingggg...

Bow down before the one you serve

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggg...

"MOTHERFUCK!  SOMEONE ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE!!!" I shout.

You're going to get what you deserve

Rrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnggggggg........

"God DAMMIT!  ASSHOLES!" I shout as I slam the volume to zero and pick up the phone.

"Hello?!" I answer with raw contempt.

"Uh, hey.  Who's this?" the voice asks.

Goddamn people.

"Who's this?" I answer.

"Hey man, it's Chris over at Spinners," he laughs.

"Oh, hey, sorry Chris.  It's CW.  Nobody around here answers the damn phone.  What's up?" I say, letting the anger go.

"Hey CW.  Anybody around the house right now?  How many guys have left for Spring Break?" he asks.

"Most of the guys are gone already," I respond. "A lot of them didn't have class today, so they left yesterday. It's definitely turning into a ghost town around here."

"Well, I've got an offer here for anyone there who wants it.  First come, first served," he states.

"Okay?  You need people to help out at the club or what?"  I ask.

"No, nothing like that.  Actually, it's a hell of a thing.  We had that swimsuit contest here last week, remember?  Anyway, the chick that won the trip to Padre just called and bailed.  Can't go.  Can't use the tickets.  So I've got a couple of tickets here for Spring Break in South Padre that I really want to get rid of," he explains.

"Wow.  How much?" I ask.

"That's what I'm saying, man.  They're free.  You get two seats on the bus and a room in a condo when you get there.  I don't want them to go to waste, so I thought I'd call you guys," he says.

"Man, let me check around and call you back - that seems like an awesome deal.  I'm sure someone around here will take them," I say.

"Whoa, hold on.  That's the thing.  I need to know right now.  The bus leaves in an hour," he says, more than a little belatedly.

"Well then, shit.  Hold on, I'll run around the house and check with everyone," I laugh.

"You don't want them?  I mean, I'd take them myself, but I've got to work the club.  It should be a blast," he says.

"Nah, me and Morrie have some stuff going on with the girlfriends over Spring Break.  Hold on, though, I'll go check around the house."

~~~~~

"So he says all you have to do is go pick up the tickets and go.  But you've gotta decide now," I explain to Brian and Tim. 

"Holy shit!  That's awesome," Brian says, "but I can't go.  I'm heading home."

"Yeah, me too," Tim echoes.

"Oh, come on guys.  You're the last two left!  How can nobody in this house take this trip!?" I shout.

My roommate Morrie is standing in the doorway.   I haven't seen him there until just now.

He's staring a laser through me.

Walks over and grabs me by the shoulders.

"CW.  We're doing this.  You and me.  We're going."

"Man, c'mon.  You know we've got plans with the girls.  We're going to the concert Saturday and..."

"Shut up.  We need to do this.  This is the last hurrah.  This is you and me and South Padre.  This is our Fandango.  Get your shit packed right now.  We're going."

"No way.  There's not enough time to..."

"Shut the fuck up and get packed."

"But I can't..."

"We're going, goddammit.  You tell him we're coming to pick up those tickets.  Right.  Now."

On a scale of one to ten, Morrie doesn't have a scale.  He's thrown it out.  Fuck scales.

He knows.  I know.  Two halves of the same brain.

"Oh my God.  We're really doing this."

~~~~~

A little more than twenty-four hours later, it's beginning to look like twenty-four hours is twenty-four hours too long to be on a bus. 

Especially when the bus is broken down.

And you're still ten hours from your destination.

We'd pulled into a Greyhound bus terminal in Dallas, Texas in order to see why there's smoke coming from the engine block.  After waiting in the terminal for over an hour, eventually we all meander to the park area in front of the station to lay down in the middle-March grass. 

"So, John says whenever they get the bus working again, it's still ten hours until we get to Padre.  How's that possible?  This state is too big," announces busmate Kelly, walking up to the group.

Thanks for the update, whore.

After a solid day on the bus with these people, Morrie and I have begun to plot their deaths.  Kelly's will be very painful.

I close my eyes and sink into the grass.

"Beautiful skyline," someone says, looking at the Dallas concrete and steel looming the east.

I squint my eyes open slightly to observe the view.

"Not bad.  Looks like they're building something pretty big over there," I notice, pointing at a towering construction crane.

"There's a huge flag on the tip of it there.  What's that say?  Bongo..."  Kelly stammers.

"It says 'Bungee Dallas'," Morrie states.  "Bungee.  Not bongo."

"Oh,'" Kelly says, "is that where people jump off of bridges and stuff?"

"Yeah.  And cranes.  Which is probably why they advertise there."  Dumbass.

Morrie looks over at me and smiles.

Oh no.  No, no, no.  I've seen this smile.  It's his plotting smile.  His c'mon smile.

"Dude, not in a million years.  I'm scared of heights.  No way are we doing that," I laugh.

"The bus is officially fixed!  We leave in five minutes!" John yells from the terminal.

Never ride the road to destiny on a bus.

~~~~~

Twelve hours later.  Not ten.  Twelve.

And we're on the beach at sunrise.  Shoes off, our feet slipping lower into the thick Gulf sand.

The cold water slaps at our shins and we inhale the saline breeze.

I turn to Morrie, who has his eyes closed.

"Can you believe we're here?" I ask.  "I'm almost dreading the ride home already."

"The only thing I want to think about right now is right now," he answers.

Then he turns, opens his eyes, and fixes me with a stern look.

"Now, let's go get drunk," he says.

Hours and days.  Days and nights.  On and on.

~~~~~

The universe has flattened into a solid sheet of oiled glass.

And it's tilting.

We drink where we stand and sleep where we fall and all I want to think about right now is right now.

And right now I'm looking at a crane.

And right now Morrie is looking at me.

"We.  Are.  Doing.  This."  he says.

He knows.  I know.  Two halves of the same brain.

~~~~~

Now, in line to jump, I notice the young lady nearby spinning around wildly in the human gyroscope.  She is, of course, topless.  Beyond her is the blackness of the Gulf of Mexico, lit by moon and stars until it meets moon and stars. 

I look up.

150 feet in the air, a speck of a stranger screams like his testicles are being pulled through his ears.

This is seeming like less and less of a good idea.

"You.  You're up.  Hop aboard."

~~~~~

"You still holding on?  You got me?"

"I've still got ya.  You're fine."

"Holy shit."

"Okay, here ya go.  Three, two, one...BUNGEE!"

Wait!  Don't I get to decide?  I'm not ready.  Not now.  Momentito.  Hold please. 

Too late.

The island skyline tumbles in front of me and blurs into dark water and back around and down and it's so quiet and hey this isn't so bad, gotta remember to keep my eyes open here, I can get used to...

HOLY SHIT, I'M GOING BACK UP!!!

Whoa, now I'm floating.  Huh, everything is kinda just hovering.  I can feel the light breeze...

DEAR GOD I'M FALLING AGAIN!!  WHY GOD!?!  WHY JESUS?!?!  WHY MARY, FULL OF GRACE, THE LORD IS WITH THEE...

Okay...it's okay, I'm kind of just evening out here again and...

NO I'M NOT, I'M GOING BACK UP WHICH MEANS I'M GOING TO FALL AGAIN, I'M SORRY LORD FOR TOUCHING MYSELF SO OFTEN!!!

And now down...and now gentle.

Just hanging here over the Gulf of Mexico.

Me and infinity.

The last hurrah.

~~~~~

Postscript

There are some things you do because you have to and some things you do because you want to.  But sometimes having and wanting are the same.

I've been there.  I've done that.  And I've got the fucking t-shirt.  And I'm keeping it.

Comments

[Rohit]

Nice :D

[Jack]

Brilliantly written. A few people looked at me weird when I laughed at "I'M SORRY LORD FOR TOUCHING MYSELF SO OFTEN!!!"

[Jenny]

Excellent story! But I felt *so* sick when you snapped back up for the second time...

[Consigliere]

This is why I come here.

[teahouseblossom]

Nice shirt. Good to know that "bungee" has an alternate spelling of "bungy."

Ok, I need to clean out my closet. I'm sure it would provide several weeks' worth of posts...

[styro]

Anybody who jumps off a crane with a bunjee cord tied to them is... yeah. You're nuts dude.

[ak]

that was a fucking brilliant post man...brilliant

[gimmy]

I'm pretty sure I could never do that. In fact, I know it.

[deanna]

Man, you are an awesome writer! I love your blog!

[Aaron]

Cool.

[SF]

I am laughing my ballz off. Great writing.

[Almost Lucid (Brad)]

Great story. I'm inspired.

[FeralTitan]

Alas! My bungee is over! I read the whole blog from start to finish in around 10 working days! Yes! it was in office time, am I good or am I good! Left some comments CW - I dont think u will like them.

[panajane]

You blow me away with your writing. Good, good.

[snowy]

ain't no way i'm evar jumping off one of those things. nuh-uh.
you're crazygonuts, i say!

[Bre]

Wow, you rode on a bus for 24 hours just to get to Padre? And I thought 7 hours was too damn long for that place...

I guess I should appreciate my home state's beaches a little more.

[romy]

excellent. thanks cw. :)

[Laura]

I'm pretty sure now...that I am suppose to marry you.

Kick-ass post.

[ashley]

this is one of those memories that everyone wishes was their own.

[Scott-san]

The bungee cord could've helped you in the ol' attic, no?

[leo]

I remember when I went bungee jumping in Ft. Lauderdale, I tried to look cool and calm to the lady folk that were watching. I'm some crazy hip dude whose about to jump to his glorious death with nothing but a really big rubber band to hold me back from splattersville. I was pretty sure that once we'd gotten to the bars, the lady folk would be all over me like crazy on Michael Jackson.

Unfortunately, my friend on the ground said the entire time I was on there, it looked like I was about to cry.

[Blog Bitches]

Love the way you write :)