In mid-December, we drove back to the mountains of Tyrol. We were planning to spend Danny’s birthday up there and be back by Christmas. It was around then that he stopped going running in the mornings. It wasn’t that he wasn’t able to anymore—he just didn’t care as much about staying in tip-top shape. He didn’t see the point any longer. Instead of tramping around outside in the cold morning, he preferred to stay in the hotel bed with me a little longer, snuggling and talking.
We did a lot of hiking during the day. That was enough to burn off his extra energy. Even though he’d gotten out of shape—by his standards—I still couldn’t keep up with him by any means. He dragged me up to all the highest peaks, where we enjoyed the view for a while before making our way back down. We tried skiing once, but I made such a fool of myself that I immediately lost interest.
“Let’s go up there,” Danny said, pointing to the gondola lift. There weren’t many people there, so we waited until we could get a car to ourselves. It traveled a very long distance, high up over the mountains, stopping again and again for several minutes so that people could enjoy the view and take pictures.
Out of nowhere, as we were above a gorge, Danny took off his jacket and opened the window. I wasn’t surprised, since he’d enjoyed climbing halfway out of the cars when we’d come here the year before last—but this time, he went all the way out. My heart began to race as I saw him clambering out. He stood in the window opening, holding the roof for support. Once he was sure he had his footing, he let go.
“Yeeee-haaa!” he bellowed into the wind, which tore at his sweatshirt as he stretched out his arms. He reminded me of Leonardo DiCaprio on the Titanic. He made no move to come back inside again—he stayed that way for half the ride.
He’s completely lost it!
For a long time, I toyed with the idea of just pushing him off, weighing the pros and cons carefully. Danny would lose valuable weeks or months of life, but he’d be able to die unafraid... He wouldn’t know what was happening until it was too late. But I couldn’t do it. He trusted me so much, and I just couldn’t bring myself to abuse that trust.
Danny climbed all the way up onto the roof. I leaned out the window. “Come inside. Please.”
“I’m not going to fall.”
“Danny, quit screwing around and come back in!”
“Ducky,” he called. “This is what I want to do. I want to die like this. In free fall!”
“But not now, please!” I shouted back. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him getting to his feet. My heart was hammering in my throat. I couldn’t see him anymore—my neck didn’t bend quite that far. The people on the ground beneath us had stopped in their tracks and were pointing up at us. A crowd was forming. Off in the distance, I saw flashing blue lights.
“Danny, come in,” I screeched. “Otherwise, I’m coming out!”
That worked. He was predictable in such things. He swung himself back into the cabin, feet-first. His fingers were ice-cold, but he was radiant with joy. “I can do that. Just jump once, and there’s no going back. Plus, you have time on the way down for your life to flash before your eyes.”
“I’m happy for you,” I said bitterly. “They’re here because of you,” I added, pointing to the police cars below.
“Dammit. We need to get out of here, or they’ll stick me in a loony bin because they think I’m some suicidal maniac.”
“Danny, you are suicidal, and you’ve always been a maniac. Maybe they really should take you in.”
The police followed our car, lights flashing, until the gondola went over another mountain. They wouldn’t be able to follow us straight across, but I was sure they’d be waiting on the other side. The mountain beneath us got taller, the distance to the ground significantly shorter. Our car stopped for a moment at the top. Danny leaned out the window to estimate the height.
“Let’s get out.”
I looked down as well. The thick, soft blanket of snow was at least ten feet underneath us.
“You truly are insane,” I grouched.
“Come on,” he urged me. “I really don’t want to run into the police. I guarantee they’ll arrest me.” He swung his feet out the window and turned around to look at me again. “Just jump. I’ll catch you.” Without hesitating, he jumped down, even though he still had a cracked rib. Shaking my head, I climbed out the window as well, but I didn’t just leap out like he had. I hung down from the window frame, legs dangling, eyes squeezed shut, and then let go.
Danny caught me as promised, spinning around on his heel to absorb the shock, and set me on my feet. Then he took my hand, and we ran down the mountain, in the direction the police had come from. I wished I could see their faces when our empty car reached the station. The thought made me laugh out loud.
Danny kept pulling me onward. He could have run on and on quite effortlessly, despite the deep snow. Only when we reached the foot of the mountain did we finally stop, gasping for breath. Then we slipped in among the other tourists on the hiking trail, strolling along with them as though nothing had happened. The police apparently thought we’d both jumped to our deaths: there were helicopters circling the mountains for hours afterward, probably looking for our bodies.
“That was great.” Danny beamed.
“Let’s not do that again. Are you okay?” I asked.
“Of course! I never want to get so sick that I can’t jump out of a cable car.”
“You are so crazy!” I said yet again.
“That’s what you love about me. That’s why you decided to stay with me. Because I’m different, I have passion. You don’t like boring people. You wanted a guy you could experience things with, not stand around at his deathbed holding his hand.”