"Shelly," Cal said from the left of me, his voice traced with worry. "Are you okay, babe? We can leave if you don't want to do this."
He put his arm on my shoulder and exclaimed, "Shit! You're shaking like a leaf."I watched as a six-year-old jumped off the platform and rode the rope with a shout of glee.
"No, I'm good," I responded, trying to control my body and put my brave face on. "I can do this."
When they called for the next person, I walked to the head of the line, wanting to go before Cal, if for no other reason than I didn't want to be the last person left behind.
When I walked to the front, the guide told me to clasp my rope to the zip-line, and showed me where to keep my hands. After he checked to make everything was secure, he told me to sit down and remain seated, with my hands in place, and that they would catch me on the other end.
I sat in my holster and closed my eyes as he pushed me off the platform and I felt myself become suspended in the air. I opened my eyes and looked around, momentarily spooked by the fact that I was hanging by only ropes ... But once I realized that I was safe, I allowed myself to revel in the excitement that was coursing through my body. When I saw that I was approaching the end of the line, I placed my hand where the guide had told me I needed to in order to slow my descent. When the big guy waiting at the platform caught me, I laughed out loud.
That hadn’t been so bad after all.
I turned to watch as Cal came flying down the zip-line, laughing at the look of pure glee and shout of excitement that preceded him.
My bravado wore off when I reached the next platform.
“This time, we want each of you to run and jump off,” the guide explained when we were all gathered around.
I looked at Cal, my eyes big, and scowled at his grin.
“You just did this, Shel,” he said encouragingly. “No worries.”
“But last time they pushed me, I don’t know if I can jump,” I replied, explaining my fear.
“Just remember how awesome it felt when you were soaring through the air. Don’t be afraid, the line will hold you.”
I nodded and tried to calm my breathing as I walked to the edge.
“Ready?” the guide asked.
“Umm, hmmm,” I mumbled.
“Okay, jump when you’re ready.”
I walked away from the edge, then turned. I ran toward the edge, but when I saw the drop off of the platform, I stopped.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I said softly to the guide.
“Sure you can,” he replied. “Just close your eyes and jump.”
I looked at him doubtfully, then turned to give it another try.
When I got to the edge, I stopped again.
“I can’t,” I pleaded. “Can’t you just throw me again?”
The guide chuckled and shook his head.
“What if you just stand at the edge and jump off, rather than running?” he suggested.
I turned to look at Cal, who was watching me, his face etched with worry.
I didn’t want to be a chicken, and I tried to convince myself that I wouldn’t plunge to my death.
So I walked to the edge, closed my eyes, and jumped with a loud squeal.
Once I was airborne, and felt the security of the wire, I opened my eyes and relaxed, allowing myself to enjoy the ride.