Forty Thousand Feet

My ears popped as we passed thirty thousand feet. Heat slicked the armrests of my chair as I white-knuckled it up to thirty-five thousand. The earth was long gone by now as blue sky began to fade in my peripheral. There was no sense looking out the window. I’d see plenty on the way down.

The violent shaking of the cabin soothed into a light hum as we reached altitude of forty thousand feet. A green light flashed on the wall in front of me, so I got to work. Unbuckling, I stood and pulled on my oxygen mask. Another masked individual approached me in the dim-lit room and began checking my hookups, tightening my straps, then giving me two harsh pats on the head and a thumbs-up. I returned the favor.

Less than two minutes later we were standing by the hangar doors as they creaked open amidst flashing red lights and a cold I’d never felt before in my life. And as I peered down at the blue marble I gripped a safety railing tighter than I had the chair on the way up. Despite its safety being proven time and time again, there’s always a thought just before the jump when you think you won’t make it, the parachute won’t open, you won’t slow down fast enough. And guess what…this time, I was right.

The thrill of diving toward the earth at one hundred and twenty miles per hour almost takes the windchill out of your bones. Your adrenaline creates a rabid feeling of immortality that makes your eyes wide, and that awoken part of you wants to plummet into the ground like a meteor just to get the energy out. Unfortunately for me, that feeling plateaued within the first few moments of my jump. The rest was fear.

A cascade of thoughts flew through my mind as clouds zoomed by, and the ground came to meet me faster than a baseball straight to dome.

What had happened to my colleague I’ll never know. And what had went wrong with my parachute didn’t matter now.

I awoke with my face down in sand. The rolling orange dunes stretched smoothly beyond the horizon with a mars hue, and it seemed early dawn with stars still shining. My hands instinctually grasped at my chest and face expecting some gaping wounds, but there was nothing except a thin Hawaiian shirt and leisure pants. I wiggled my toes in the sand and looked around at nothing at all.

Years of navigating experience had apparently left me as I tried to study the stars to no avail. The constellations had no familiarity, so I didn’t know which way was what. Someone else in my predicament might've taken off walking, but I decided to sit down. A misplaced sense of indifference accompanied me that left no room for adventurous endeavors. Perhaps it wasn’t indifference at all. Perhaps it’s numbness.

As time went by sitting atop my dune I occasionally caught glances of a light breeze. Desert dust would brush up from the ground and go swaying back down in swirls. Aside from that there was no sign of any movement. There were no clouds, and the sun never rose above the horizon. My only entertainment was the twinkling of the stars, and the smiley faces I carved in the sand with my fingers. A day had passed by now, maybe. A real day, a living day. However long I had been sitting, I didn’t mind it. I felt like waiting. Waiting for nothing at all.

Every so often my eyes would close as if to sleep, but I had found that sleep never quite came. I would only dose enough to reach the in-between moment where the world fades away into amorphous shapes and glimpses of a dream, and I would awake only to start again. But this time it wasn’t myself who interrupted my dosing.

“Still here, I see.” For the first time since my arrival in the desert I felt panic. I lurched upward to see who had spoken. At first it seemed nobody was around, until I saw a black speck standing atop a far away dune. I squinted to get a better look, but blinked and it was gone. I figured my imagination was beginning to get the better of me, and so, after long last, I decided to take a walk.

The sand was deceptively slippery. A few clumsy slides down the hills, although fun, were enough to teach me to walk more delicately. Up and down and up and down I walked over the ocean-like hills. As it was when I was sitting for ages, I found I could walk for ages without exhaustion.

Another slow summit of the next dune allowed for a wide view of the never ending. My indifference was turning to curiosity, and I’d occasionally survey for anything of note; for the black speck. Nearly one hundred percent of the time there’d be nothing…nearly. This time I looked out as far as I could see and laid eyes on the distant black speck. I tried not to blink it away as I stared to make out its features. It looked to be standing, and so I waved my arm tall and wide and bellowed “Helloooooo!” The black speck reached its arm out long and tall in a singular branch, but didn’t wave.

“Hello.” I spun to catch the voice in my ear, but lost my balance and went skimming down the dune on my back and head first. Still sliding I looked back through my toes to the top of the dune, but saw no one. I came to a soft halt at the bottom and let my head fall to the sand in defeat. I stared at the stars for quite a while, bored of my walking.

My eyes closed after a time, but the voice shot them open again, and this time showed its face. He was standing over me, staring at me with a kind curiosity, or perhaps a blank gaze one has before their morning coffee. His age was an ambiguous fifty (give or take ten years depending on the angle) and his skin was a pasty something between eggshell and pale pink. All this contrasted greatly with his jet black clothes. He had his own pair of leisure pants on, and a Hawaiian shirt with such dark flowers I could hardly see the pattern. His head was also bald beyond belief as if hair had never grown there to begin with.

“Settling in?” The question was punctuated by a smile meant to break the ice, but my already extensive time in the desert flattened his humor. For an instant his eyes glimmered with familiarity.

“Have we met before?” I remained lying down.

“Oh, I’d say so, but this is our formal introduction.” He patted down his chest until sliding his hand into a breast pocket to retrieve a folded piece of paper. “Ahhem,” he coughed, clumsily unfolding his note. “It is with great honor and heavy heart that I welcome thee to the world beyond!” A sudden theatricality emanated from the pale man as he gestured to the wide expanse. I stared up at him as he continued to perform for an invisible audience. “As you enter this next phase of your existence I am to usher you along, be your guide, and serve you unto the limit of my powers.” He took a long breath in.

“Um-“ I tried to say, raising my hand from the ground.

“Please leave any questions until after the announcement,” he whispered, then continued on. “To fulfill my obligatory respect to the recently deceased, I will now give a brief eulogy before we embark on our next order of business.” His eyes peered down to meet me. “Please cross your arms.” I did. He cleared his throat once more and straightened his posture.

“Dearly departed. We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of one insert name here- ah, apologies. I’ll skip that bit...and to remember him fondly as we aim to share his legacy, and live on happily as he would have wanted.” He read the words monotonously and slowly as if it were his first time reading them. “Although he is no longer by our side, he will forever be in our hearts.” He smiled and bowed his head as one would when receiving applause, then sharply folded up his paper and tucked it away. I remained silent in the sand as the pale man looked onward as if forgetting I was there entirely.

Despite the man’s absurd delivery that may have otherwise made me laugh, a bleak sadness fell on me.

“So this is it?” My voice startled the pale man back to reality.

“What’s that you say?”

“That’s it? No pomp and circumstance? No happy reunion with lost relatives?” I asked. “No pearly gates? Just me?’

“I’m afraid so.” He clasped his hands and held them to his chest with solemnity.

A strong gust of wind came rolling down the dune, ruffling my hair and whipping my clothes. Goosebumps found me and my shoulders shivered, and quiet tears fell down my cheeks. I clutched myself and curled into a ball as it grew colder and colder.

“How ‘bout a fire then? Or a warm beach?” I asked, wiping away my tears. “Your powers make that sort of thing? Are you a magician or something, or just a bad speechwriter.” The wind kept blowing as I waited for a reply. The man kept silent. “Well?” I looked back to find the man had vanished. I stood in a fit of anger which quickly turned to concern as the wind picked up. A full blown sand storm had begun. It was in my eyes and my mouth as I desperately searched for the pale man. I rushed to the top of a hill that once would've shown a far off horizon, but now showed nothing but orange clouds. “Hey!” I screamed angrily into the void. “HEYYY!”

Yellow lightning struck nearby with roaring thunder, and again, and again. Howls from the storm drowned out my screams for the pale man as I ran aimlessly around and around. Another bolt of lightning struck the ground right in front me, sending me careening backwards in a flurry. My head struck the sand so hard it made my spine tingle, or perhaps I had been electrocuted. Everything began to feel real and painful. The flying sand burned my skin, and I tore off my shirt to cover my mouth in desperation to breathe. Was I alive after all?

I clumsily returned to where the lightning blast had struck me. The sand had crystalized, but was already being covered by a fresh dusting. A lump in its center caught my eye, and I fell to my knees when I saw what it was; it was me. Smashed against the crystal was a mangled, bloody, flattened corpse in aviation gear. Only the uniform was identifiable amidst the red paint splatter of my body hitting earth at one hundred and fifty miles per hour.

The sandstorm surrounded the scene like a tornado, and returning through the cyclone was the pale man. He looked up into the eye of the storm where thunder brewed, and when I looked up too a bright bolt of lightning filled my vision and hit me straight on. Everything went white.

…

I awoke on a white sand beach. The sun was high and hot, and the waves were calm and blue. The shore stretched endlessly to either side, and behind me lush jungle of palms of green. The bizarre constellations and orange dunes were gone, and so was the vision of my amorphous body.

To my pleasant surprise I was seated in a lounge chair instead of lying on the ground. A second chair sat beside mine, yet to be filled. Footsteps approached from behind, and they circled round my front to reveal the pale man. He was carrying chopped wood, which he lazily dropped to the ground in a small pile. From the same breast pocket that had held his eulogy he retrieved a slab of flint and a pocket knife. A few sparks later and he had prepared a very picturesque little fire.

“I’m not a magician.” He said as he wiped his hands of soot. “But I didn’t write that speech. I’m actually quite well written when given the chance.” I wasn’t sure what to say. The melancholy of my ‘funeral’ hadn’t quite left me. “May I join you? We do have some business to go over.”

“Sure,” I said. He smiled and sat in the empty chair beside me. I held out my hand across the table. “My name is Bradley by the way. In case you need to fill in any gaps.” We shook hands.

“Nice to meet you, Bradley,” said the pale man. “Welcome to eternity.”