aaron_the fall of america_chapter_42

Chapter 42

The sky was still dark when my intercom buzzed.

"I'm sleeping," I said when I reached the intercom.

"Zizith."

"So I'm not sleeping?"

"Open the door."

"Yes, Sir."

I buzzed him in and ran to the washroom. I grabbed a shirt and pair jeans from the bedroom then opened the door. Zizith stepped out of the elevator.

"Morning."

"Morning." he answered.

"So you're come for breakfast."

"No, I'm only here for a minute."

"Seems awful early to get up just to visit for a minute."

"I just came to tell you that you are leaving today."

"I am. Where am I going?"

"Cuba."

"Do I like Cuba? What is it?"

"Out of America."

"Do I want to leave America?"

"You'll want to get your head back."

"I wouldn't argue with that. I don't think."

"Who's she?"

"Oh, Shelly, you didn’t have to get up. I was soon going to come back."

"I'm Shelly, and you?"

"Shelly, this is my friend Zizith. I think he is, anyway. I'm not sure whose side he's on or if he even knows. I'm not sure whose side I'm on. I'm not even sure what the sides are and if one side is any better than the other side or if it's just two sides of the same thing. And nobody knows what the thing is or that they are on the side of it and can't see beyond their side. It's all perspective and point of view that determines how you see a thing and what you make of it. And you can't even have a point of view until you learn how to see and make up ideas of what schism you are peeping at throw a small chink in the darkness."

"Aaron."

"See. He calls me Aaron. And I believe him as well."

"Aaron."

"Yes, Sir."

"Shelly shouldn't be involved with you. She should go home."

"I don't want to. I have no home. I want to be with Aaron. Who are you to tell me what I should do. You can't just come in here and take Eddy away."

"There is no Eddy. This isn't his life. He is a mere robot in his condition. We want to help him. And to do that we have to take him away."

"Where are you taking him?"

"I can't tell you."

"I want to come with him."

"We’re not going on a holiday. Aaron will need therapy."

"I don't want therapy. I'm not sick."

"No but you aren't you."

"Who is?"

"Aaron, there are people waiting to see you. I can't force you to come, you have to want to."

"What must I do?"

Zizith explained where I had to meet a courier at twenty hundred hours. Everything was arranged. I just had to be there ready to leave one life and jump into the next.

Shelly and I went back to bed for a few hours. It wasn't necessary to start the day so early.

When I woke late in the morning, I stared at the ceiling and wondered what was waiting me in Cuba. They would likely have to deprogram me then reprogram me. I'd never know when I was me.

I remembered some about Karna and thought it odd I couldn't remember what she looked like. I could remember that I had a brother and that he was married. I could remember her as well. I could remember visiting them not so far from where I now lived. It seemed so long ago that I lived in that gruesome apartment that I didn't believe it was a memory from my life. I couldn't really remember me.

"It's funny how things change so fast when you aren't watching."

"Um."

"A year of so ago, I lived not so far from here, not so differently than now, except I had no job and I didn't know you. Yet so much has happened that nothing makes sense anymore. Thing can change so fast and not even be so different."

"I think you have a girlfriend in your other life."

"What makes you think that?"

"You are too sweet and also Zizith hinted at it."

"I think I do."

"What's going to happen with me when you meet her and remember that you love her?"

"We'll swim that river when we get to it."

"Cross the bridge, Eddy."

"What bridge?"

"Do you want me to stay here?"

"What do you want, Shelly?"

"I might believe I want you to stay and pretend you're just Eddy. But it wouldn't work."

"So."

"I want to come."

"I think my other me would like you as well."

"Maybe it's a desperate decision for me."

"Get dressed fast!" I whispered. "And be quiet."

"What is it?"

"The door."

Shelly didn't understand my panic but quickly dressed. I lead her to the balcony and closed the balcony door quietly. The knocking on the door was getting frantic.

"Who is it, Eddy?"

I pointed to the police cars below.

"But what did we do?"

"You didn't go home last night."

"They wouldn't call the police."

"Well then, maybe it was the dog."

"The dog?"

"I'll explain later."

"What are we going to do?"

"Jump."

"It's twelve floors, we'll die. No, Eddy."

"Not down there. To the next balcony. It's not far. I'll go first so I can catch you."

"No."

I stood up on the railing and leaned against the wall.

"The trick is not to look down."

When Shelly looked down, I jumped clearing the railing on the next balcony easily. I landed on a chair and broke it, knocked over a little table and broke a glass and a couple beer bottles.

"Eddy! You're fucking crazy."

"That, I refuse to believe. Are you coming?

"I can't jump over there."

"Of course you can."

"I'll fall."

"I'll catch you."

"What if I miss?"

"That's not one of the choices."

"Eddy."

"Come on."

Shelly stepped away from the window.

"They're inside."

"Did they see you?"

"No! Look out!"

I turned in time to block a blow from a small baseball bat. It slid along my arm and smashed onto the balcony railing. I drove my fist up into the man's diaphragm then up into his jaw.

"Shelly, if you want to come with me, you have to make the jump now. I have to go."

She suddenly looked determined. She got up on the railing. Not even pausing to catch her balance against the wall, she jumped. Her one foot didn't clear the railing but her momentum took her upper body over, knocking us both to the patio on top of the groaning man.

"Did I make it?"

"You nearly knocked me out the other side."

"I didn't want to fall short."

"No fear. Bring in the broken chair and set the table up."

I dragged the man into his apartment and put him into a comfortable chair.

"Sorry, Mister. I'd try to explain but we have to go. I'm not here to steal anything, just to use your door."

"Should we just wait for the police to go?" Shelly asked.

"Yes. No."

"Which one."

"No. They might figure it out and we'd be trapped. They aren't looking for you, so you walk to my door and stand there and ask stupid questions if someone tries to come out of my apartment. I'll run quietly to the stairs. You meet me at the front of the church down the street."

"What if he tells them."

"Okay, meet me where we met the other day."

"What if there's a policeman in the hall."

"Kill him or make him face the other way by asking silly questions."

"Okay."

Shelly opened the door and steeped into the hall.

"There's lots of people out here."

"Perfect. See you soon."

"I love you, Eddy."

I shut the door behind me and walked down the hall to the stairs. I passed an old woman who steed at her door.

"Did someone not pay their parking ticket?" she asked me.

"Probably something like that."

I looked up the hall to see Shelly getting into the elevator. A policeman was coming out my door. He was distracted enough by the questions of the small crowd, not to notice me slip into the stairway.

I ran down the stairs barely touching a third of them. I soon popped out into the underground parking and walked to the far exit, well away from the front entrance.

Shelly was walking from the building. She looked down the street at me but turned and walked the other way. A policeman came out of the front door a few seconds later. He took no notice of Shelly but seemed curious about me. He motioned for me to come to him but I pretended not to notice.

"Hey," a voice yelled.

It was behind me in the next building, behind a screened window.

"I'll buzz you in, you can run out the back door."

"Thank you."

The police man was walking toward me but when he saw me pretended to open the front door of the apartment with my key and go in, he shock his head and went back towards my building.

I didn't feel like running so I stood out of view and watched. It wasn't long before the four police were gone.

I went back to the street to look up at the windows to see if I could see the person behind the voice.

"You didn't want to run?"

A big black woman stood on her balcony and looked down at me.

"Why did you let me in?"

"My youngest son was shot by a cop for stealing a candy bar."

I didn't know what to say to that. She didn't seem to want to say anything more so I turned and walked away.

I went to the park.

Shelly was sitting on a bench, reading the local paper. On the front page was a picture of a demolished car. There was a smaller picture of a man with a broken leg and a dead dog.

"Anything good?"

"I think it's all old news for you."

"Oh."

"You might be smart to stay out of sight."

"Where shall we go?"

"I'll ask Pattie for her car and we'll go to the beach until it's time to meat your friend."

I waited and read the paper while Shelly went to get Pattie's car. She was back soon after and we left with no trouble.

The beach was very crowded. We had to park on the tenth level of a parking building and walk through many streets before getting to the beach. I paid someone to put up shaded chairs for us where we sat and watched the blinding sun beat on the scorching sand.

We didn't say much through the afternoon. Shelly only wanted that I hold her. She was troubled, even sad.

After an excellent sea food meal, we went back to our home town to wait for the courier.

"Is that the night courier?"

"That's the one, I believe. Shelly. Why are you crying?"

"I'm going to miss you, Eddy. I've never known anyone like you."

"Why are you going to miss me?"

"Because your friend is right, I can't go with you."

"Why not."

"Eddy, you're going to another life. Mine isn't much here but someone else has your heart there. Just kiss me and try to remember me sometimes."

"Shelly."

"Please don't say anything."

We kissed and held each other and told each other we loved each other and maybe one day."

"Go now, Eddy. The man is waiting."

"Bye, Shelly. I won't forget you, even if I don't remember anything else."

I kissed Shelly one more time and got out of the car.

"Oh. Shelly. Here's my house keys if you want to go get my pictures or anything."

"Thanks, Eddy. I will."

"Bye."

I walked up to the back of the van and jumped in.

"You can stay here in the back," the man said when he threw a bag in beside me.

"Okay."

"That's the last one, we're on our way to the airport now," he said shutting the back door behind him and crawling over the bags to his seat.

"Are we going in a plane?"

"You are, I'm not. I'm going home for a beer and a good meal with my dear wife."

"You've had a full day?"

"'Bout a 'leven an half hours."

"You do that every day?"

"No, three days a week; that's enough."

"Four days free?"

"Yes, Sir. I wouldn't have it any other way."

We continued a friendly talk until we arrived at the airport.

"Cover yourself up now."

He chatted with a security guard for a minute then drove to a small building away from the main terminal. He backed up to a loading dock, took me to a woman with a hand held computer. When I turned to say something to him, he was gone.

"Have you ever jumped before?" she asked.

"From one balcony to another. Do you want me to jump to there?"

She smiled and strapped a pack onto my back.

"Is this?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir," she said. "Don't worry, it's as simple as pie. The pilot will help you and you'll be fine."

"I'm jumping out of a plane?"

"Lay down on those bags."

I jumped onto a cart that instantly started moving. I was soon loaded, with the bags, on to the small aeroplane.

It was a one-engine aeroplane. There was barely enough room for me to sit behind the pilot. On the floor. The start up sound of the engine shocked me into understanding what was happening.

On our taxi to the runway, the pilot explained the technique involved in getting out of the plane and controlling the parachute. He went over it several times to make sure I understood and would remember.

"You also have a one way radio on you. There will be someone talking you down. The parachute you are wearing is the best there is. If you are good, you can land on a dime."

"I'll be happy to land on anything and remember it. Can you tell me why I have to jump out of a perfectly good plane?"

"It's the surest way to get you out. This is a regular route for me. Nobody is going to suspect I'm dropping a fugitive into the ocean."

"Ocean?"

"I'll have to go a little off course but if anyone asks, which they won't, I can blame it on the wind or lack of it or my pain killers or a poor childhood."

"Are you American?"

"Yes."

"Why do you help me?"

"We're helping each other. We don't have to be from the same side of the boarder to be on the same side. Many Americans want that bastard out."

"You mean the president?"

"And his cronies. You raw fish eating, lumberjacks think we're all a bunch of ignorant flag waving sports fans. It ain't so."

"It's easy to generalise, especially for me since I don't know much of the details."

"Well, you remember this, when you get that bastard and his assholes, you're doing it for us Americans as well as the other countries on this side of the world. Americans aren't your enemy, it's a few bastards running the show."

"I will try to remember."

It was the first I heard about me getting anyone out. I couldn't even remember the president's name. I wasn't convinced that I appreciated my political stance being decided for me. But they must know more about me than I do.

"America has a good people, don't under estimate us."

"I've met some.

"Good. Than remember we're just as human as anyone else."

"Where are you going?" I asked after some time.

"Tampa. It's a regular run."

"And I'm getting out in the ocean."

"You got it."

"From how high."

"Three thousand feet, that's almost a thousand meters for a non-American."

"I know what feet are."

"Just razzing you."

"So that I don't remember that I'm about to die."

"Don't worry. Jumping from a plane is safer than landing in one."

"I guess I don't have much choice now."

"Not much now."

"No regrets. I'm ready. It just goes against my instinct to jump out of a plane."

"Get ready."

"What! Now?"

"Time to go," he yelled over the engine noise without turning around. "If I don't jettison some baggage, I'll be in big trouble when I land."

He dipped the plane so that the door opened. The air pressure kept it opened when he levelled out again. My heart pounded at the sight of the opened door. My adrenaline ran me out of my mind.

"Remember to keep arched and look up. At the count of five to six seconds check to see if you have a chute. If you don't, pull the reserve, the big metal handle on your chest."

"Okay, I'm as ready as I can be."

"Get out there or you'll miss the boat," the pilot said after he turned on my radio. He had my pilot chute in his hand.

A rush of terror attacked me when I moved to get out of the aeroplane. It was unnatural but I forced myself out under the wing. Once under the wing, I was psyche to fly. There was no thought of getting back in the aeroplane then. The pilot stuck his head out. The air rushed into his open mouth and puffed his check out like a monster. He laughed and gave me a 'thumbs up'.

"Go!" he shouted.

I screamed at him and pushed away. It was invigorating beyond belief. I fell only five or six seconds before I had a chute but it seemed timeless, like stretched space.

When I thought to look up, there was a rectangular chute above me. It looked similar to a wing. I was so awake and aware. In a few seconds, I had gone from anxiety to bliss. It was akin to a continuous orgasm for the whole body. It was such a delicious feeling that I could have hung in the air for a week.

"Aaron, pull down on your toggles."

I looked around for an angel before remembering I had a one way radio on my chest. I looked up to find the toggle handles, then pulled them down to my shoulders.

"I want you to get accustomed to your chute, Aaron. First, pull down on the right toggle until you feel yourself turning."

I did what the man said.

"A little more," he said.

"Wow!"

"Good. Now let it up to your shoulder and pull down on the left toggle."

I went through the left turn and faced directly into a nearly full moon.

"Okay. Now we're going to practice a landing."

"Up here?" I asked the silence. "On the moon?"

"When I say, pull the toggles all the way down slowly through the count of three."

I prepared myself.

"Okay, Let's land. Three, two, one. Good. That will give you a perfect landing. Follow my instructions and I'll put you on the boat."

I had stopped in mid air. I looked up. The chute had fallen limp. I let the toggles up. I fell until the chute again filled with air. I floated.

"Left toggled," the man said.

After I had turned to the direction he wanted me, he told me to let up the toggle. Each time he wanted me to change directions he instructed me as to which toggle to use. In a short time I was near the boat. I passed the boat.

"Right toggle, hard."

When I faced up wind, I was instructed to let up the toggle.

"Ready to land. Three, two, one."

My feet touched the deck like stepping off a pair off slippers.

"Wow!"

"How do you feel, Aaron?" a voice asked as he bent to help gather my chute.

I caught his face in the moon light.

I had to kill him. I kicked him in the stomach and the head. I reached to grab his head to twist it off its support but the wind took my chute and pulled me back. I managed to grab his hair and drag him with me. He held onto my wrists as we sailed gently off the boat into the water.

There were four splashed behind us. I held the man's head under the water but I couldn't stay afloat with all the struggling. I tried to snap his neck but couldn't get enough momentum under the water.

Hands and fist were all over me. Too much water was rushing into my throat. The man I was trying to kill was gone. I hoped he was dead because I was getting too weak to fight. I needed air.



read on. book_04 chapter_43



by Joanne B. Washington

© 2001 | the jose wombat project