Madness
by Amber Averay
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He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He’d always felt bucket lists were things the frivolously rich or the perennially cash-strapped made – the former because they could, the latter because they dreamed of better things. It wasn’t until he’d been diagnosed with terminal cancer that Josh decided he wanted to list all the things he hadn’t yet done but wanted to experience before he died.
So he and his wife, Esther, had gone snorkelling at the Great Barrier Reef; they’d been cage-diving with great white sharks; he’d jet-skied off the local nudist beach and skied – albeit poorly – on the slopes. He’d tasted fugu, been bungee jumping, nearly died white-water rafting, and was now preparing to skydive. His lovely Esther had been with him every step of the way – except when it came to sampling fugu. She’d drawn the line there, but he’d been determined. Just as he’d been determined he wasn’t jumping out of a plane.
‘Why not?’ Esther had asked, her beautiful brown eyes dancing mischievously. ‘It’s no worse than bungee jumping.’
‘Except that with the bungee I’m attached to security by a cord! Skydiving means I’m falling through the sky…without anything to stop me splattering on the ground.’
She’d laughed, assuring him the parachute was perfectly capable of preventing him from being dashed over the earth. ‘And I’ll be with you,’ she promised, warming his heart with her pledge. ‘We’ve been through everything together so far, we’re going to keep it going.’
‘Together ’til the end,’ he intoned.
‘’Til the very end,’ she’d agreed.
Now, after weeks of preparations and lessons and instructions, here they were, thousands of feet in the air and so close to leaping from the light aircraft. Beside him Esther grinned and gave him the thumbs-up; he’d not seen her so excited since they went cage-diving with the sharks. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but not quite enough to quell the squirming fear unsettling his stomach. This is madness, he thought, smiling weakly in return, hoping his wife couldn’t read the doubt in his face. I hate planes!
If he said those words to her now, he knew she would giggle and tease that they wouldn’t be on the craft much longer, so why did he worry? And she was so excited that he couldn’t bear the thought of tarnishing her glee with his uncertainty. So he kept that sorry excuse for a smile pasted on his face, pressed a hand against his roiling belly, and drew deep breaths.
The instructor hauled the door open. Gales of wind poured into the cabin, and Josh’s fingers tightened on the bench as if it would keep him anchored. Mad, mad, mad, he chanted inwardly, reluctantly taking Esther’s hand and shuffling to where the instructor waited. Parker had admitted they were able to jump together, though he was dubious about the concept, and Esther enthusiastically shook his hand, Josh gave a half-hearted wave, and then they were free falling, spinning, screaming!
Was Parker yelling something? The wind roared in his ears, the plane and Parker swiftly shrank from sight, and Josh exchanged a disbelieving grin with Esther.
She didn’t smile back.
‘What’s wrong?’ he shouted, remembering too late she couldn’t hear him. Mentally shrugging, he reached for the paracord and pulled…
Nothing happened.
His shaking fingers groped for the reserve parachute’s line, and pulled.
Again, nothing.
Panic set in, and Josh lost all reason. Grappling at his pack, hands desperately scrabbling for a miracle rescue, he felt as if his heart was lodged in his throat, choking him further with each furious throb. He was going to be sick; he was going to pass out. The ground was racing to meet them. He looked once again at Esther, not really expecting to see her, yet there she was. She now smiled at him, relief and acceptance and pleasure radiating from her beautiful face. A horrible thought came to him, yet hadn’t the time to form flesh before they slammed into the earth and knew nothing more.
Far above the shattered remains of Josh and Esther, Parker gripped the note the woman had slipped him when she shook his hand. Tears were whipped from his cheeks by the winds howling around the plane, and he dazedly stared at the piece of paper he held in a death grip.
Dearest Josh,
I couldn’t live without you, and I couldn’t live watching you die. This way we go together, and we go quickly. I know you’d say it’s madness, but I can’t bear the thought of you slowly decaying while battling chemo and various other treatments. No fear, no pain, no drawn-out demise destroying us both.
I love you. ’Til the end, baby!
Esther.
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