High Wire : Chapter Two (Ben Callens)

CHAPTER TWO:
     Jordan stared at her window as the sun slowly crept over the edge and peeked into her room. Normally she would pull her teddy bear closer, the one her father won for her at the county fair when she was seven, and submarined her head under the covers. Today she met the sunrise with eager anticipation. Her father would be climbing the stairs at any minute announcing that breakfast was ready and that her butt better be down there before he gets back. The smell of bacon made her stomach growl. She sat up in bed and looked at her calendar on the wall. Each yesterday was crossed out with a different colored pen, and today’s date was circled in bright red ink and written in neat bold letters were the words “CPD Competition!” She bit her bottom lip. She waited every year for the competition. She skipped her usual morning routine, all except feeding her four goldfish: Zoe, Duncan, Jack, and Jane. She always said the names together, not independently, and it always made her smile.
     Once downstairs she made a plate of what food was left in the pans on the stove and ate off the counter next to her sister. The chairs had already been packed into the truck the night before. Their neighbor Bobby had come over to help get things ready to go. The tent was wrapped up and put in first so that when they unloaded the truck bed it would be the last thing they grabbed and wouldn’t have to fish through all the other crap to find it. There weren’t any seats at the competition except at the sideshow games used to distract and lighten the wallets of unsuspecting strangers. In other words, unless you wanted to spend the day sitting on the cool Tennessee grass, you had to bring your own.
If she planned it right, Jordan would have enough time to check on the cows they loaded up last night and run to the back pen to say goodbye to Odie, her horse, before her father came back from Tom’s general store. He always had some last minute things to pick up.
     Her feet fell softly on the wet earth with a delightful squish, the aftermath of the rain the night before. She squeezed the mud between her toes. She never wore shoes during the springtime. It was a habit that later turned into a preference for her that came from riding bareback when she was younger. She found early on that she liked to feel the horse under her without the protection and pinching of the saddle. She never wore shoes when she rode bareback either; something about their nakedness made her feel more powerful, more in control. When she kicked she wanted to feel the impact like the horse felt it. She reached through the fence and rubbed Odie’s damp neck. She remembered the first time they brought him home, a payment from some distant relative for an outstanding debt.
     Her reverie was stopped premature by a hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw her father smile. “Come on kiddo. Time to go.” Her stomach leapt, this time from nerves instead of hunger. This year was the first time she would get to compete. She had tried a few practice jumps before on the farm with her mother instructing her how to land. Her father had told her that the landing was harder than the jump but she was still nervous of the whole thing. What if she messes up? What if she misses her mark? She did her best to repress the thought and unconsciously gripped her father’s hand a little tighter as they walked to the truck.
…
The gate to the fair was made of brilliant letters floating above a man wearing a gray vest and cowl, which ran down his back with several inches piled on the floor. Behind his leg huddled a small child, no bigger than his knee. Her father showed his entrance pass and they drove the truck past a banner blowing in the wind at ground level that said “CPD – Today at 3!” Jordan looked at everything they passed, taking in all the sights and smells like it was her first trip to the fair. She rode in wide-eyed silence until they reached the docking area. There was a great circle painted on the grass. In the center was parked a small two-engine plane. Her mother was already there. She was helping other families unload their truck beds. Jordan did as her father asked and went to help her. Hours passed with hands helping hands and smiling faces greeting old acquaintances. The fair served as a competition only to a few; the majority regarded it as a reunion for the spread out friendships of the county. Rarely did another opportunity present itself for so many people to come together throughout the year.
For Jordan it was torture. She just wanted to get started. Finally her mother called to her and guided her with a light hand on the small of her back to the far end of a line of trucks to the pens where they kept the cows. She told Jordan to go in and grab her cow and bring her out. Her choice to bring to the fair was Wrinkles, the smallest of the pen. She had helped rescue Wrinkles during a flood five years before. They saved her from drowning and mended her broken legs. Numerous attempts failed to turn up her owner and so Jordan kept her as her own. The name Wrinkles was a mystery to all but Jordan. She walked to her and looped the halter about her ears and secured it around the jaw. The next step was for all the competitors to walk their chosen animal up to the plane and lead them in. Jordan found the inside was nearly 3 or 4 times the size of the outside, easily accommodating the 20 stables for the participants. In front of each stall was a door. These also could only be seen on the inside; the outside just looked like a normal solid wall.
As Jordan loaded Wrinkles into her stall she got some last minute coaching from her father. Check your handles, arch your back, relax, all these words went through her head without attaching themselves to anything. She stared at her father’s face, hoping to find comfort in his eyes. What she saw was concern. He knew how dangerous these jumps were, but Jordan was determined to do it, and they needed the prize money to fix up the farm. She tucked her chin to her chest and accepted the kiss from her father on top of her head. The door closed and she sat inside listening to the voice of the gate master on the outside speaking to the crowd with a megaphone.
Ladies and Gentlemen: the time that you have all been preparing yourselves for is upon us! Watch with anxious eyes as that plane there takes off from the ground and carries our heroes to heights unfathomable!
With that the engines kicked on and lifted the plane straight upward as a light pink glow surrounded its underbelly. Tourists in the crowd stared with open eyes and mouths as it rose. Some took pictures; all waited for what was to happen next.
Watch as they rise! Soon you will see them all reappear as they descend upon us! Once those brave men and women have leapt from their doors, their parachutes, (here he placed his hand on his chest) hopefully, will open and they will begin their race to the bottom. Make ready your eyes for the most spectacular sight they shall ever take in! Don’t forget to reach in your pockets and fish out the number you chose, and one more thing: Welcome to the annual Cow Parachute Drop Competition!
Jordan began wrapping a blanket with the number 15 on the side and clasped the parachute around Wrinkles. Her heart was in her throat as the door in front of her stall opened. Climbing on top of the frightened animal, she removed her shoes. She reached down her sides and grabbed two cables: the wires she would use to guide the chute and themselves down to the center of the painted circle on the ground they just took off from. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the cables tight and stared out at the blue.
On the ground, people stared anxiously back up at her. They all had their tickets in their hands. The shows and the games were all fun, but the CPD Competition was where the action and excitement was. People came from all over to bet on which competitor would land in the circle first. Some lost fortunes, as they were sure their choice couldn’t lose. One year a desperate man sabotaged a chute so that it wouldn’t open right way, as was supposed to, and almost caused the death of the animal and its rider. The managers of the race now took better precautions and raised the prize money to encourage competitors to return to race the following year. For now, hundreds of faces pointed upward until their necks cramped from strain. Slowly, specks of color appeared under the clouds and for a moment all was quiet. The gate master looked at the people and smiled slowly. ‘Win or lose, those people will be back’ he thought, and turned his own eyes to the heavens. As the shapes grew, so did the cheers among the crowd. After a few minutes, the only mouths still shut as Jordan’s mother and father stared nervously at the sky, waiting for their daughter…