Page 1 of When We Are Falling
Chapter 1
Ethan
People askme why I jump. They probably expect some kind of deep answer—how I commune with God or feel at one with the universe as I’m falling at 120 miles per hour out of a plane. The truth is, I do it because it’s the closest I’ll ever get to losing control, and part of me craves it.
In the freefall, there’s a raw, unfiltered sense of freedom. The adrenaline and euphoria hit hard, and it’s just me and the endless sky, a series of moments where I’m at the mercy of the wind.
We’re taking up a couple of tourists and some jumpers from Ohio today, and the plane hums as we ascend. The tourists, two thrill-seeking girls in their mid-twenties, look like they’re questioning their sanity right about now. One’s a blond with a nervous laugh that bubbles up every few minutes, while the other, a brunette, grips the edge of her seat, eyes wide.
My partner, Liam O’Connor, is doing his part, chatting and keeping everyone calm. He’s the sweet, charming one, the oilthat keeps the engine of our business running smoothly. It helps that the ladies all love him. Me: I only turn on the charm when there’s something I really want.
“Alright, everyone, listen up!” Everyone’s heads snap to me. “Remember to keep your eyes on me and follow my lead. You’re going to have the time of your lives.”
Liam looks at the two girls. “And if you don’t, you can take it up with customer service—oh wait, that’s me.”
They laugh nervously, hanging on our every word, their wide-eyed glances bouncing between the two of us. There’s fear, but also excitement. It’s a look I know well.
The trio from Ohio—two men and a woman with an impressive tattoo sleeve, all in their forties—are chatting between themselves. They’re pretty experienced, but even so, one of the men’s legs bobs up and down as his heel taps the floor, and the woman is playing with a bracelet around one wrist, sliding the beads one at a time through her fingers.
I check the straps on the harness of the blond tourist who’s paired with me. She’s pretty in a conventional kind of way—cute smile. Her friend is with Liam, who’s in full charm mode, cracking jokes and easing nerves, while the solo jumpers are getting in the zone, checking their rigs and preparing for the jump.
As we approach the drop zone, the blond woman turns to me. “How does your mom cope with having a son who throws himself out of planes?”
I stiffen slightly. “She hates it.”
She must see something in my eyes because she looks away, a brief awkward silence following.
“She’s probably got a hotline to the skydiving gods.” Liam grins. “Praying he lands safely every time. But hey, with a track record like his, she’s got nothing to worry about.”
She lets out another uneasy laugh just as we reach the drop zone, and thankfully it’s go time. I check everyone’s rigs then attach the blond tourist to my harness. She’s gone stiff, tension snaking through her.
“Hey, look at me. It’ll be awesome.” My voice is low as I hold her gaze until she nods. Looking up, my eyes sweep the plane, checking on the other jumpers. “Alright, everyone, remember to arch.”
The door opens, and cold wind rushes in, roaring in my ears. All the details of Harbor’s Edge look tiny down below, and there’s nothing between me and the ground, but I’m not nervous. There’s risk in the things we do, but every aspect is carefully controlled.
Looking over my shoulder: “Let’s do this.”
I leap out with the tourist strapped to me, her anxious giggle turning into a scream as we freefall, but the rush drowns it out.
Wind blasts my face, and we’re both soaring and dropping at the whims of the currents. It’s a dance of speed and gravity, with the earth rushing up to meet us all the while.
For these brief, breathtaking moments, air tugs at my body, and I’ve only got my training and instincts to navigate the descent, the sensation of weightlessness, and the raw power of the elements all around.
The wind engulfs us in a rush, the world below blurring into a dizzying mosaic of colors and sensations. The solo jumpers hold hands in formation, grinning into a GoPro before letting go, their movements smooth and practiced, while Liam—strapped to the other tourist—flashes me a thumbs up.
I glance at the altimeter on my wrist, watching the numbers drop rapidly. The freefall is both eternal and fleeting, a paradox of time.
Just as the ground starts to come into clearer focus, I pull the cord. There’s the sudden, reassuring jerk as the canopy deploys,and we’re yanked upward, our rapid descent slowing into a peaceful glide. The transition from freefall to serene floating always amazes me, the canopy allowing the time to take it all in.
“Wow, that was incredible.” The blond tourist lets out a whoop, straining against her harness to glance over her shoulder at me.
Harbor’s Edge sprawls below, beautiful with the Pine Barrens meeting the Jersey Shore, the ocean sparkling under the heat of the summer sun. I point out a few landmarks, including the lighthouse and the pier, even though Liam’s better at this part than I am.
We soon approach our landing spot in a field just out of town. “Remember to pick your feet up and let me take the impact.”
She follows my lead, and we reach the ground, me taking a couple of brisk steps before coming to a gentle stop, the grass cushioning our touchdown, the canopy dropping behind us. Liam lands a moment later, and the tourists are grinning from ear to ear, their faces glowing with the thrill of the jump. We help them out of their gear, me being careful to maintain a professional distance as I unclip the blond woman’s harness. It’s hot down here, and we offer the girls bottled water.
“That was amazing! Thank you so much!” She hugs me tightly and exchanges a look with her friend. “If you boys want to meet for a drink later, we’re free all afternoon?”