The Parachute Jump Read online

Page 2


  Part of her misgivings could have resulted from the fact that, at one point, instead of releasing the latches, I had accidentally caught the ring of the ripcord and pulled it. The release mechanism had opened the pack and thrown out the nylon material within. Belle's patience was immeasurable. She peered at me with a look that was a mixture of compassion and incredulity, but she altered not a word.

  "Whoops," I had muttered incongruously.

  "Never mind, Mr. Martin," Belle had declared calmly, "that ring won't be there on your first jump. The parachute will open from a static line."

  The lesson on the following day have to do with the emergency chute. Belle reminded us that one must first release the main chute before the emergency chute, which is trapped below the chest, can be deployed. She began a demonstration of the proper technique for doing this.

  "This is also done on the count of three." She explained.

  "One, hands to pack, pull snaps to open. Two, pull parachute out. Three, toss parachute outward well away from body."

  "Keep your hands away from this D-Ring," she warned. "It releases the entire emergency chute, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" She smiled as if she had said something amusing. I was horrified at the thought.

  A genuine emergency pack was strapped to our stomachs and each of us had to demonstrate that we could master the one – two – three drill within three seconds.

  None of the others had difficulty with this exercise, but, at first, I couldn't find the mechanisms that released the snaps. As I looked for them, Belle counted one, two, three… When I finally found them, opened the pack, and tossed out its contents, Belle informed me that I would have bounced off the ground some ten seconds earlier. That statement did little to instill a sense of confidence in me, but after several more attempts I was able to come within the three second limit that she had prescribed.

  Belle dismissed the others but asked me to stay for a few minutes. "Victor," she began, "tomorrow is jump day. You've demonstrated a good deal of courage. No one will criticize you if you decide that you have proved your point and now wish to withdraw. I can help you by saying that you have the flu or had to go off on a business trip, or something."

  She saw me hesitate.

  "Please!"

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Banion," I mumbled. "It wouldn't be the same. If I don't do it tomorrow, I'll be back next month or next year. This is something I must do!"

  "All right," she agreed grudgingly. "We'll do it your way. See you tomorrow." We met at the airfield the following afternoon. The weather was warm. There were no clouds in the sky. "Perfect jumping weather," bubbled the high school girl.

  Belle provided us with jumpsuits, goggles, gloves, helmets, and boots. We were required to don these items and our main and emergency parachutes. Belle checked us out. She spent a good deal more time with me than she had with the others. While she was tugging here and patting there, I stood motionless as a feeling of anxiety, foreboding, even panic, began permeating my body beginning with my feet and creeping upwards.

  Belle led the way as the six of us walked toward the plane that was waiting at the edge of the field. The aircraft had once been a commercial DC-3. Now, with an enlarged, open door, it's sole purpose was to spew out human cargo from a mile or two in the sky. I could see the pilot and copilot seated in the cockpit. They seemed totally oblivious to, and unconcerned with the momentous event I was about to experience. The engines of the plane were silent.

  Belle addressed us. "We'll be flying at 8000 feet. When the time comes to jump, we'll all connect to the static line. Then, one by one, will advance to the open door. There, I'll check you over, then command you to jump. When I say jump, you must do so at once. If you freeze, you'll endanger the lives of others. In the event that you freeze when I order you to jump, I'll shove you out. And believe me, I'm strong enough to do it. I used to be called the belle of the jump school but I can be tough when I have to be!"

  She continued forcefully, "if you don't want to jump, then don't get into the plane!" She looked directly at me as she fiercely pronounced these words.

  Not a person stirred. My heart was pounding so hard, I could feel it in my throat. I couldn't have spoken if I had wanted to.

  Belle waved to the pilot and the props began to rotate. One engine coughed, sputtered, and started, then the other. At first the engines turned slowly, but soon began to rev faster and faster. The sound became deafening!

  At this point, I began debating whether or not it might be a good idea to back out after all. Fight had taken control of my body. My legs felt as if it trapped in plaster casts. Sweat rolled down my forehead from under my helmet. I knew I couldn't do this and was about to raise my hand in surrender.

  Too late! Belle began leading the way to the plane. In a daze, I followed. We climbed a series of steps, then sat on hard seats lined up against the wall in the stark interior of the plane. The aircraft began moving almost at once. Then, we were in the air.

  The sounds of the engines reverberated throughout the plane. No one spoke. The jumpers seemed lost in their thoughts. My body seemed anesthetized, my throat paralyzed. What was I doing here? Was this really happening?

  Belle began barking instructions. This was the moment I had dreaded. Though it had taken an eternity to arrive, it had come too soon.

  "Stand!" She ordered. Belle's voice easily carried over the din of the engines.

  I pulled myself up and leaned on the plane's bulkhead for support. My legs seemed made of rubber.

  Belle came to me and, with her hand on my elbow, guided me to the end of the line. "Victor, I want to take extra good care of you," she yelled in my ear. "You'll do fine!"

  Then she called out: "Everybody buckle up!"

  I picked up the heavy nylon cord that led from the main parachute and opened the buckle that was attached at its end. In my mind I had practiced this task over and over and was fully pleased that I had no trouble with it now. While the buckle was open, I fastened it to the static line that ran the length of the plane, then allowed the spring mechanism to snap shut. I was now firmly attached to the line. I felt confident that when I went out plane, the cord would pull the parachute from the pack and open it immediately. I should then enjoy a pleasant, floating ride to earth.

  Belle walked to the gaping door and looked out. I admired her courage as she held herself in place, one hand on each side of the door. She leaned out looking to the right and to the left. Suddenly, she seemed satisfied, and motioned to the garage mechanic to come forward.. She gave him one final, quick glance to make sure that he was ready to go.

  "Jump!" She commanded. There was no hesitation. In less than a second, he had disappeared out the door.

  In unison, those remaining in the plane, myself included, shuffled toward the door.

  The physical education instructor was next. Another quick check, then "jump!"

  She went out the door.

  The rest of us moved closer to the opening. My head felt like the Grand Canyon. I was functioning by sheer instinct.

  "One more check," I thought to myself. While we continued edging toward the opening, I detach myself from the static line, examined the buckle to make sure it had no flaw, then fastened it again.

  All jumpers ahead of me were now gone. I was the only one left standing slightly to the side of Belle.

  "Don't look down," she bellowed in my ear. "Keep your head up. When I call out jump, do it at once. I'm going to jump immediately after you do. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, I hollered in reply.

  Belle began tugging at my straps and pulling on the various pieces of equipment strapped to my front and back. While she was doing this, I felt the need to examine the clasp one more time. There was still plenty of time I thought. I disconnected the piece, and was inspecting it, when Belle gave the command to jump.

  "Wait!" I called out. "I have to…"

  "I said jump!" She shouted, and gave my back a mighty shove. Out I went holding the fastener in my hand. This de
vice and the static line that was supposed to have opened my parachute were now moving apart at a very rapid pace.

  "Stupid moron!" I shouted to myself. "Now what do you do?"

  Suddenly, and eerily, all sense of fear evaporated. I felt curiously at peace. There were no sounds around me except the gentle whish of the wind as a brushed against my face and clothing. I looked down, and was awed by the beauty of the panorama below. There were tiny checkered squares on the ground, some brown some yellow. Here and there were dual streaks of white which curved gracefully along a band of blue and green. Above, a white parachute with red stripes billowed beautifully as a figure suspended below swayed gracefully back and forth. I gazed at the entire scene, detached, not connecting it with my present predicament.

  The images on the ground started to become larger. I realized, that I was an integral part of what I was viewing, and that I should concern myself with slowing the approach to the ground.

  What was it that Belle had drilled into us? Oh yes, the main chute must be disconnected before the emergency chute can be used. Mechanically, I moved my hands to my chest and pulled the pins then I opened the latches. Finally, I raised my hands and was gratified to see that the main parachute had begun to drift slowly away. I wondered if I had accomplished this task within the mandatory three seconds.

  I looked down. The ground was now rushing toward me at an alarming speed. Details on the ground were now very clear. I could make out cars traveling along the twin white streaks. A gently curving bridge crossed a ribbon of blue.

  What was I supposed to do next? Something about the emergency chute! I was supposed to open the pack grasp the inside contents and throw them out. But I had forgotten how to open the pack. I fumbled and found some straps. "Yes," I reasoned, "these straps need to be loosened."

  My hands were encased in heavy gloves but the straps were large and yielded to my frantic pulls. First the left strap was freed from its buckle, then the right. The emergency chute began drifting from my body. I had succeeded!

  I had succeeded, but in what? I had accomplished the wholly inappropriate objective of casting off the very parachute that was to save my life! With awe, I watched as it slowly floated away.

  Bewildered, I realized that I was falling toward the ground at an ever-increasing velocity and that both my main and emergency parachutes were doing the same thing not twenty feet away from me. Mercifully, I lost consciousness.

  When I came to, I was lying on the ground. There were several people around me. Belle was staring into my face. "Are you all right, Victor? You had a nasty spell when you hit the ground but you'll be all right."

  "What happened?" I gasped.

  "I was worried about you, Victor. Without your knowing it, I put another chute on your back when you thought I was checking your equipment. It was a special skydiving chute that opens automatically at three hundred feet if you're falling too fast. You had worried me a great deal during the training, and I just wanted to be sure that you'd be all right despite your clumsiness."

  Clumsiness? Her remarks stung, but I deserved it.

  "Thank you," I mumbled. Then the thought occurred to me that I just couldn't help expressing.

  "I guess you might say, I was saved by the Belle," I exclaimed.

  Author's Comment: Did you like this story? If so, please check out Little Girl Lost and English Major where you found this story.