Day 27: Seek a thrill
The minibus arrived at the hospital steps at seven o’clock, as arranged. It was a typical hire vehicle plus driver affair, an aged fella with slicked back hair and nicotine stained fingers.
‘Morning, minibus for eight people?’ he asked, climbing from his seat.
‘Morning mate, are you ready for us?’ replied Asa, taking the lead role of organiser and driver’s buddy.
‘Ey, I am… quicker we’re gone the sooner we’re back,’ said the driver, as he flung open the side door. The traffic was obviously more important than a teenager’s dream day out.
Esmé had stood for fifteen minutes amidst a jumble of holdalls, blankets and first aid kits piled around her feet, acting as the official mini-bus look out. A deep-seated thrill rumbled in her stomach, a mixture of dread and excitement.
Was it morally right to tie a poorly… dying teenager to a high wire and hurtle him head first down a mountain side? Esmé cringed. Right or wrong, it was Stig’s request.
‘Oy Esmé, are you standing there all day or are you going to load some kit?’ called Asa, as he beckoned her towards the rear doors to start loading their bags.
Within ten minutes, they had the group’s belongings neatly stacked inside the confines of the storage area.
‘Where’s Stig?’ she asked Asa, once the other medical helpers had drifted away.
‘Don’t you worry, he’s in fine spirits… he’ll be here any minute.’
Within five minutes, the cheery smile of Stig arrived by special delivery of a wheelchair and a brisk nurse.
‘Park here, please,’ ordered Stig, pointing beside Asa.
‘Yes, your highness,’ laughed the nurse, swivelling the chair around. ‘Have a nice day and come back in one piece.’
‘We’ll try to,’ laughed Asa, high fiving Stig.
‘If not you can patch me together again,’ shouted Stig to the retreating blue uniform, before speaking to Asa. ‘Hey man, how’s it hanging?’
‘You up for this adventure?’ asked Asa, as he scrutinised Stig’s features.
The teenager pouted in a determined fashion.
Esmé watched the brief exchange.
She was thrilled to be asked to accompany them as a helper for the day but deep down was unsure what was required of her.
‘So, what are you doing tomorrow?’ Asa had asked when they’d visited Grace in hospital.
‘Nothing. Why?’
‘Good. Sounds like you’re zip wiring then.’
‘Doing what?’
Asa had explained the premise behind ‘Make a wish days’ and the zip wire was Stig’s one wish.
It sounded amazing apart from the nagging uncertainty of such a thrill being safe enough for a young man whose delicate body was wracked with pain and suffering.
‘OK folks, climb in, buckle up and we’ll leave,’ shouted the plump driver.
‘Stig, say goodbye to your parents,’ said Asa, smiling at a solemn middle aged couple standing a distance away from the minibus.
‘See ya!’ shouted Stig, waving from his wheelchair, before whispering. ‘They’re still mad at me for choosing this. My mum hoped I’d opt for an afternoon with dolphins.’
‘Are they still mad at me for agreeing?’ asked Asa, as he waved and smirked.
‘Oh yeah, but then they get your motives, they just don’t get mine,’ said Stig as he propelled himself towards the minibus’s side door.
‘You lifting?’
‘If you’re asking!’ joked Asa.
Asa’s arms snaked beneath and around the teenager’s frail body and hoisted him high above the wheelchair and onto the bench-like padded seat. After a quick argument about whose seat belt strap was whose, the lad was safely secured by the far window.
‘Esmé, you next?’
‘You can go in the middle,’ she said, zipping her fleece. ‘He’ll be more comfortable having you cracking cool jokes and pulling his leg than my tedious efforts.’
Asa climbed in and untangled his seatbelt.
Esmé glanced towards the rear of the minibus, where three medical staff, accompanying them in case of an emergency, hurriedly loaded supplies whilst Stig was occupied and oblivious.
Esmé climbed in and immediately retrieved and opened her large bag of Skittles.
‘You on a day trip, love,’ called Stig, leaning round Asa’s body to view her.
‘Yes, thanks, I’ll start the singing off in a few minutes so get your vocal chords warmed up,’ she answered, matching his jovial spirit.
The minibus journey was as comfortable as could be expected given the age of the shock absorbers and rusty suspension. Within a few hours, Esmé’s back ached and her thighs were numb from her swinging feet not touching the floor but her voice was in fine form. After seven renditions of ‘Ten Green Bottles’, endless rounds of ‘Swing Low Sweet Chariot’ and a dubious football chant, which Esmé was sure Stig’s mother wouldn’t approve of, but which Asa sang heartily, the mini-bus drew to a halt near Bethesda, North Wales.
The medical crew and helpers piled out, as Asa gently lifted Stig from the vehicle into his wheelchair.
The mist was low, the rolling hills high and Stig’s excitement levels were entering the stratosphere.
Whoosh!
All eyes lifted skywards as two bodies suspended in nylon cradles came zipping overhead in bright orange jumpsuits.
‘OMG!’ shrieked one medical helper, introduced as Tara. ‘Is that what you’re going to do?’
‘You got it!’ cried Stig, his pinched face beaming with delight. ‘Wow! Look how fast they go, Asa!’
‘Faster than five miles an hour, hey?’
‘You bet. I’ll race you down, no problem.’
‘Are you going down too?’ asked Esmé.
‘Of course, we’ll go side by side, hey Stig – you and me?’
‘Sure man… who is going with Esmé?’
‘Me?’ Esmé screeched, looking amongst the group. ‘Excuse me, I’m not doing that for no one. I’m here to watch.’
The group of faces turned and stared.
‘I’ve news for you, you are!’ whispered Asa, throwing a casual arm around her shoulder. ‘Now buck your ideas up, don’t be scared but the lad wants us all to do it.’
Esmé’s worst fear had come true.
‘I can’t do that, I’m only here as a helper.’
‘And this is your payment.’
‘I don’t need paying, thanks – I’m doing it purely to be useful.’
‘Think of the thrill, woman,’ laughed Asa, releasing his hooked arm.
‘It’ll be the fastest you ever move,’ called Stig, his body doubled in laughter.
Esmé looked from Asa and back to another female helper, who seemed as shocked as she was.
‘No one said,’ muttered Esmé, knowing she’d have never agreed to help if this little plan had been mentioned. Was this her punishment for sleeping with Jonah?
Asa shrugged.
‘Best foot forward, me thinks, live a little, Esmé.’
‘I’ll give you ‘live a little’, if you keep on with that bloody saying,’ muttered Esmé, swallowing her pride.
*
They emptied the minibus, registered at the reception and were given a booking time before Esmé could catch up with the plans.
The Stig Six were ushered from one prefab shed to another to collect bright orange jumpsuits and endure the undignified ritual involving looped harness strapping being hoicked and tightened about their groins by an instructor, creating a puffy arrangement like an adult nappy.
‘You’ve been Tangoed,’ called Stig, as Asa knelt before him doing up his front zipper.
‘Does my bum look big in this?’ laughed Tara, as she pranced about.
The group stood and stared, no one dared answer her.
Great. Esmé was sure hers looked worse.
Esmé watched Asa and the instructor assist Stig with his strapping. Stig’s tiny frame was overwhelmed by orange material and the strapping gave the impression of a desperate turkey trussed up in a fancy dress costume. The instructor tugged and tugged to get the child size strapping small enough, the force of his movements causing Stig’s body to move violently.
‘Grab a helmet and line up please,’ called the instructor. ‘We’ll adjust and fit each one.’
Esmé joined the queue, butterflies dive bombing in her stomach.
What the hell was she doing here?
She stepped forward for the instructor to position and fit her safety helmet by twisting the appropriate dials.
‘Don’t look so frightened, love, you’ll come to no harm,’ he joked as Esmé walked off, the rigid plastic strapping biting the underneath of her throat.
‘Asa, tell her to change her face…’ called Stig, as he pointed at Esmé.
‘Esmé, a request from Stig… change your face – you look like a bulldog chewing a thistle.’
‘Ha, bloody ha, Stig! And you look like a Cadbury’s chocolate orange gone very wrong in that jump suit, but hey, I’ll forgive ya!’ she called back, desperate to avoid the fear that was growing in her belly.
‘Asa, she’s history, isn’t she?’ said Stig.
‘Sure thing, mate, sure thing!’
*
Esmé looked out at the thick steel cable which was slung between their platform and another platform a few hundred feet away. A drop of around fifty feet was below her.
‘Could you lie down into a press up position please?’ asked the young woman, her pierced eyebrows and lip distracting Esmé from her instructions.
‘Press up?’
‘Like we just demonstrated…’
Esmé stared around the group.
What demonstration? The Stig Six group had just arrived at this platform by foot… no one had performed a demo, not that Esmé was aware of.
‘Wakey, wakey, Esmé,’ shouted Asa, stepping forward from the group. ‘Like this.’
Esmé watched as Asa went to the front of the platform, peered over the edge, crouched down, placed his hands flat to the steel grid-work and stretched his body backwards. His palms and boots supported his outstretched body.
How could orange jump suits look good on certain body types?
‘Are you watching?’ Asa’s voice interrupted her thought.
‘She’s definitely looking, mate,’ called Stig, as a titter of giggles ignited amongst the group.
‘Stig!’
Esmé stared intently at Asa’s hands to demonstrate her full concentration.
She watched as the instructor collected the rear sections of Asa’s body harness strapping and clipped him to a suspended metal runner hanging from the wire cable.
Asa’s body was lifted up, his fingertips hardly touching the metal ledge while his feet were lifted and positioned against a length of black strapping pulled from the rear of his harness.
He swung like a peg bag on a washing line.
‘See? Now, Esmé, get down in a press up position on the other launch pad,’ said Asa.
Esmé stared in horror as all eyes turned to look at her.
‘Me?’
‘Er yeah, we’ll go down side by side,’ said Asa.
‘Me?’
‘Esmé!’
Esmé followed the routine demonstrated so beautifully by Asa. The instructor performed the attachment routine at her rear and finally, her body was attached to the cable washing line.
Beneath and before her lay an expanse of scrub land, mature trees, rocky footpaths and groups of orange jumpsuits hiking up the hill towards the platforms.
‘Now listen, as you near the metal strut in the distance, put your arms out by your sides like an aeroplane and it will help to slow you down, OK?’
A second instructor completed his safety check on both harnesses, clips and runner hooks. ‘Perfect!’
‘Excuse me…’
‘Esmé, shhhh now!’ called Asa, his arms held straight by his harnessed sides.
‘But I can’t…’ Esmé glanced sideways towards her flying partner.
‘You can. In thirty seconds, it will all be over,’ laughed Asa.
‘Ready, steady, go!’
Esmé felt her safety clip removed and whoosh! The rush of air took her breath away. Her body launched forwards and down, flying above the scrub land. Asa waved as he overtook her mid-flight.
On approaching the platform an instructor grabbed the cable with his giant hook and stopped her flying action in one move.
Within seconds, Esmé had followed the instructions given and was standing, knees knocking, back on terra firma.
She’d done it. She’d actually done it. Less than thirty seconds, as Asa had said. A wave of emotion lifted from her boots, up through her orange jump suit and snagged somewhere below her throat.
‘Love, you OK?’ said the instructor, looking concerned.
‘She’s fine, mate,’ called Asa, as he offered her his arm. ‘Esmé!’
Asa’s fingers wrapped around hers and a spark of electricity flared.
‘Ouch!’
‘Exactly, but still give me your hand.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re actually green – you look far from fine.’
‘But I did it.’
‘You certainly did.’
‘I nearly bailed out at the top.’
‘But you didn’t… full marks to you.’
*
They stood a distance away from the landing platform, and there was a whooshing sound overhead as two more of their small group zipped along the wire.
‘Is it Stig?’ asked Esmé, as she peeled herself from Asa’s protective grasp.
‘Yep, look at his face.’
Stig had the broadest smile, his face was alight and alive.
‘Didn’t he want to come down alongside you?’ asked Esmé apologetically. ‘I ruined the running order.’
‘Oh well, he can do next time.’
‘What we’re doing that again?’
Asa stared at her.
‘That was the practise wire… the real one is up there.’ Asa pointed to a huge mountain away in the distance. ‘You didn’t think that little stunt was his wish come true, did you?’
‘No, I… just… I thought that… you never said.’
‘Bloody hell, Esmé. You don’t think these instructors take someone up there without testing their nerve on a smaller set-up first?’
Esmé stared at the mountain.
‘How high is it?’
‘Just under five hundred metres and the zip wire is a mile long.’
‘Are you serious? I’ve got to do that all over again? That…’ she pointed to the practise platform. ‘Was bad enough.’
‘Live a little, Esmé. You only have to lie there and watch the view come towards you,’ laughed Asa. ‘Now hush, here comes Stig… you’d better grow a backbone double quick.’
‘Asa!’ called Stig. ‘Wasn’t that the best?’
‘Certainly was… but now for the biggy,’ shouted Asa, helping him down from the landing platform.
‘Esmé, you were awesome,’ said Stig.
‘I was?’
‘Yeah, you had fear written all over your face and yet, you launched… I thought you were just about to bail but no, off you went!’ he laughed, holding his sides as Asa supported him. ‘Asa, can I go down alongside her next time.’
A pause occurred before Asa spoke.
‘Sure man. If that’s what you really want.’
‘No!’ Esmé saw the surprise on Asa’s face. ‘I would prefer to go with one of the others, you should stick with the original plan and head down alongside Asa – you can have a race to the finish.’
‘OK,’ said Stig, turning to Asa. ‘You and me then, mate.’
‘You and me!’ repeated Asa, his voice sounding hollow.
‘Come on, we need to move on to the big one,’ said Esmé, walking away from the pair. The look on Asa’s face was etched upon her mind. Stig’s suggestion had hit home. For a split second, she’d seen Asa’s pain.
‘Thank you… I really want to do this alongside him.’
Esmé turned to find Asa walking at her left shoulder, the helpers supporting Stig a short distance away.
Esmé stopped.
‘You really care about these kids, don’t you?’
Asa rolled his lips together and sighed. For an instant he looked vulnerable, his emotions bare.
‘I get it, I really do,’ she added.
‘Good… because you’ll stop talking emotional crap and get your ass up the hill so we can all move towards the big one and give this lad the thrill of his damned life,’ said Asa, with a sudden glint in his eye.
*
The Stig Six didn’t walk to the top of the mountain, they couldn’t. Instead a refurbished cattle wagon trundled up the steady climb along the twisting quarry road to reach nearly five hundred metres up the mountain. Esmé hung onto the wagon’s metal tubing rail, her knuckles whitening simultaneously with her face.
‘Are you alright?’ asked Tara.
Esmé nodded in a frantic manner.
‘You can say… Stig will laugh it off.’
‘Hmmm, but will I live it down?’
The helper inclined her head and smiled.
‘From Stig maybe, but not where Asa is concerned.’
Esmé turned away to watch a set of daredevils launch from the quarry side and fly through the air towards the wagon, going straight over the top and away down the mountain side. She followed their progress across the quarry, above the blue lake and on towards the landing platforms, just tiny specks in the distance.
A wave of nausea swept over her.
Stig’s voice rattled on about what he is going to do this time whilst flying: arms out, arms in, waving, singing or shouting as he raced Asa.
Esmé’s gaze traced the outline beneath his orange jumpsuit – there was nothing of him, the fabric billowed around his stick thin limbs, his collar bone protruded and his sallow cheeks dipped inwards.
Why was life so cruel? She’d asked Asa questions earlier at home during breakfast.
‘It’s frigging unfair, that cancer is about to snatch the life of a young man who hadn’t even learnt how to examine his own body properly to ensure that anomalies didn’t go unnoticed. How sick is that? The bitch got him before he was old enough to know better.’ Asa had said as he ate his morning toast. ‘By the time his testicles were painful and swelling, it was too late. He was given the diagnosis in a matter of days.’
Esmé watched Asa and the others make Stig’s planned adventure bigger, grander and more outlandish by suggesting song titles he could shout whilst flying.
‘Come fly with me.’
‘When I see an elephant fly.’
‘Flying without wings.’
The group became rowdy and boisterous as the wagon continued the climb. Esmé’s stomach churned as the wheels rolled.
Finally, the wagon drew to a halt on a large flat area of grey shale by a sturdy fence edging the quarry drop.
The billowing clouds were too close for Esmé’s liking.
*
Within seconds they had unloaded Stig from the wagon and were lined up ready for the short walk to the platform and the waiting cable.
In her head, Esmé practised her announcement.
Asa, Stig, I’m so sorry but I really can’t do this… the practice one was bad enough but this… up here, so high off the ground… I simply can’t do…
‘Come on, slow coach,’ said Asa.
Esmé froze.
This was her moment to say it.
‘Asa, look it’s been a fun day so far but I really…’
‘Want to do this and can’t wait to get started.’
‘No!’
‘Yes.’ Asa’s hand grabbed hers and pulled her aside in an unceremonious fashion.
‘Asa look… seriously, I can’t go through with this.’
Asa’s grip tightened. His head bent towards her ear.
‘The lad’s dying… and you’re worried that you can’t do this? Are you for real, Esmé?’
Esmé’s eyes lifted to view Asa’s stern expression.
‘Take a look at that kid’s face, think of all the wonderful things that face won’t ever enjoy in life and then tell me that you going to deny him the enjoyment of watching you face a fear because he has asked you to. You are giving up just one moment of your selfish, timid, scared little life to him and his enjoyment because… and I mean this, Esmé, that lad hasn’t got long left and this is the day he asked for. One day, where we all put aside our own worries and create a day to remember. And if you are really selfish enough to be able to face that young lad and tell him that you can’t do this… you’re not the woman I thought you were.’ Asa’s voice cracked on his final sentence. Esmé stared at him, a flush of tears threatening to cascade from her. ‘Now, buck yourself up because you have got a damned sight more days to enjoy life and be the scared little girl that you are, than he has!’ His final words were hurried, he dropped her hand and instantly turned away brushing a hand across his eyes and face.
‘Asa?’
He ignored her call and strode towards Stig, as the helpers carried him towards the launch platform.
*
Esmé had no choice. She lay cradled in the harness and pinned to the zip wire cable. The wind gently swung her body from side to side as she watched them secure Tara. The rest of Stig Six stood behind her, huddled together, whispering and awaiting their turn.
Her stomach flipped, her limbs shook and she turned her head sideways as she couldn’t face the view before her. Nearly five hundred metres’ drop to a metal platform which she couldn’t see and where she was to be caught by a giant hook.
Asa stepped forward and crouched beside her shoulder.
‘Thank you, this means the world to him.’
Esmé’s doleful expression was greeted by his warm smile.
‘Sorry.’
Asa nodded before returning to the group.
‘Ready, steady, and…’
Esmé didn’t hear the word ‘go’ as the safety clip was released and the wind snatched her breath away for the second time. The cable whizzed and whooshed above her head and her body swung in the canopy as she flew over a bright orange wagon parked beneath her.
Silence descended as the quarry side fell away and there was nothing beneath her but distant land hundreds of feet below. Esmé looked around as if she had all the time in the world, the motion seemed to have slowed and yet, she knew she was still moving rapidly.
This is how a bird must feel.
The large lake beneath displayed a spectrum of blue hues as the water deepened and eased. In less than a minute Esmé had covered the mile long zip wire, and land was beneath her once more. She was greeted by the landing instructor’s huge smile.
‘How was that, love?’
‘Awesome, I want to do it again,’ shouted Esmé as she landed, the excitement bubbling in her voice.
She gingerly climbed down from the landing platform.
‘That was the best thing I have ever done,’ screamed Tara.
‘Me too!’
She’d actually done it! She didn’t let him down. Esmé was unsure if ‘him’ was Stig or Asa.