Fifth Ave 01 - Fifth Avenue (50 page)

“Take a deep breath if you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

Simpson had noticed this.
 
Even experienced jumpers started to sweat a little when it came time to jump.
 
This one would be wearing a blindfold for the first time--and yet he seemed absolutely cool.

“You sure you want to wear that blindfold?”

Spocatti glanced over at Celina, who was standing behind him with her arm around Jack.
 
She smiled at him.
 
He smiled back, relieved she hadn’t recognized him from the opening of The Redman International Building.
 
He supposed the sunglasses, strapped to his head, helped.

“I’m sure,” he said.

“Then let’s do it.”

Simpson knelt, wrapped a nylon strap around Spocatti’s ankles, pulled it tight and snapped a series of buckles.
 
While the bungee was being hooked to the strap, Spocatti glanced downriver. Parked in a discreet clearing next to one of the park’s many dirt roads, two of his men were waiting for him in a Range Rover.

Simpson stood and slapped him on the back, indicating it was time to jump.
 
Holding onto the railing with one hand, Spocatti lowered the blindfold with the other.
 
With the sudden darkness, his senses became acute.
 
He could hear the river roiling beneath him, the cry of a crow flying overhead.
 
Against his thigh, he could feel the small pocketknife he had zipped into one of his pockets.

If Celina gave him too much trouble, he would carve her a new necklace.

“I’m going to count down from five,” Simpson said.
 
“When I’m finished, I want you to dive out as far as you can.
 
Understand?”

Spocatti nodded.

The countdown began.

When Simpson reached zero, Spocatti pushed off the bridge without hesitation and plummeted to the river in a graceful arc.
 
Celina moved forward with the crowd and watched.
 
His arms outstretched, his head lifted high, Spocatti seemed to be flying--then the bungee went taut and cracked him like a whip.

He didn’t scream or yell or shout.
 
There was no whoop of joy or exhilaration.
 
He simply shot back toward the bridge and began to bounce.
 
It was over in less than a minute.
 
He was lowered to the raft.

When the bungee and blindfold were pulled back, Simpson looked at Celina.
 
Her face was pale.
 
She was squeezing Jack’s arm with one hand, swatting a mosquito with the other.

“I’m satisfied,” he said.
 
“You next?”

“Is that even a question?” Celina asked.
 
“Piece of cake.”

“Try to concentrate,” Simpson said to her.
 
“Push everything from your mind and think only of the jump.
 
Nothing is going to happen to you.
 
I promise you that.
 
Soon you’ll be safe in the raft and wearing what we jumpers call the post-bungee grin.”

Although she heard little of what he said, Celina took a deep breath and nodded.
 
Once again, she was standing at the edge of the footbridge, holding onto the rail behind her with tightly clenched hands.
 
In the raft below, Spocatti and Simpson’s assistant were looking up.
 
They seemed a thousand miles away.

Celina put the blindfold in place and wondered why she was doing this.
 
Why did she always have to prove to herself and to others that she was every bit as strong, every bit as brave, every bit as smart as a man?
 
So, I need therapy.
 
Great.

She felt a hand on her arm.
 
“Are you all right?” Jack asked.

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“You sure you want to go through with this?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Want to have lunch with me later?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I love you,” he said.

Celina gave a start.
  
She couldn’t have heard him right.
  
But when he squeezed her arm and gently kissed her cheek, she knew she had.
 
He loves me
, she thought.
 
If there’d been time, she would have told him that she loved him too.
 
But before she could, Jack stepped aside so Simpson could strap the bungee to her ankles.

“Okay, Celina,” he said.
 
“I’m going to count down from five.
 
Just jump out as far as you can and the cord will do the rest.
 
You ready?”

She nodded.

“All right, then.
 
Here we go.”

And he began to count.

Celina’s mind whirled.
 
With each number spoken, she felt her heart beat a little faster, her breathing become a little shallower, her hands grip the rail a little tighter.
 
She wondered what would happen if the cord broke.
 
She thought of the raft and the security it represented.
 
She thought of her father, her mother and even Leana.
 
She thought of last night with Jack, of the words he just spoke to her.
 
And then, at the same moment Simpson shouted “Jump!” and she leapt into the air, she realized she had to pee.

It was a nightmare.

The wind whipped through her hair and snatched the blindfold from her face.
 
She saw trees, rocks and water racing toward her.
 
Her stomach lurched.
 
Her bladder went.
 
The world blurred. And the bungee went taut.

She stopped just short of hitting the river, there was an instant when her eyes met Spocatti’s, and then she was being catapulted away from him and the attendant and the raft, toes first, toward the bridge--where she began to plummet again.

When the bouncing finally stopped and the attendant helped her into the raft, Spocatti took her by the hand and led her to one of the wooden seats, where she sat, exhausted.

“Fun, isn’t it?” he asked.

Celina was about to say it hadn’t been fun at all--it had been horrifying--when Spocatti suddenly slipped, fell hard against the side of the raft and capsized it, sending them all into the water.

*
 
*
 
*

“Something’s wrong,” Jack said.
 
“They’re in the water.
 
The raft’s upside down.”

Simpson joined him at the rail and leaned forward as far as he could.
 
In the river below, he could see only the swiftly moving water and the anchored, upturned raft.

No bodies.

“I don’t see Celina,” Jack said.
 
“Where is she?”

Simpson could only stare as those waiting to jump joined them at the rail.
 

“Where the hell is your attendant, Steve?
 
Where’s the man who jumped first?”

“I don’t see them.”

Jack climbed quickly over the rail.
 
“Strap the other bungee to my ankles.”

“Jack--”

“Move!”

Simpson did as he was told, moving like an automaton while his mind tried to make sense of the situation.
 
“I don’t like this,” he said to Jack as he pulled the nylon strap tight.
 
“It’s dangerous. There’s no one down there to release you.”

“I’ll release myself.
 
Just get me down there.”
 

He looked at the strap, then at the fraying bungee cord that was attached to it and coiled beside him.
 
“Ready?” he said to Steve.

At the same instant Simpson nodded, Jack jumped.

*
 
*
 
*

She was trapped beneath the raft, her legs tangled in the rope that was attached to the anchor.

Her mouth was barely above the rushing water.
 
Her breathing was sharp with fright.
 

She held onto the wooden seat above her so she wouldn’t be pulled under by the current or by the weight of the anchor.

Below her, Spocatti and Simpson’s assistant, Alex Stevens, were trying to free her.
 
With each tug on the rope that bound her legs, her hands slipped a little on the slick seat. She held on as tightly as she could, knowing that if she let go, she would have little strength to fight the anchor as it pulled her down.

There was another tug on the rope.
 
And another.
 
Celina closed her eyes and prayed as her hands slipped and she sank a little deeper into the river.

The water level flowed over her mouth, cutting off her breath for an instant until she remembered she could breathe through her nose.
 
She let out a small cry of despair and her mouth filled with water.
 
She choked on it and began to cough.
 
She struggled against what she feared was the inevitable.

There was a sudden flurry of activity in the water.
 
Bubbles burst to the top as Spocatti and Alex surfaced, their dark hair as slick and as shiny as seal skin.
 
While Alex gasped for air, Spocatti swam calmly behind Celina and lifted her up so she could get a more sturdy grip on the wooden bench.

He turned to Alex.
 
“Go to the shore and get something to cut the rope with.
 
If we don’t do something soon, the weight of the anchor and the pressure on her legs will cut off her circulation.”

Alex shook his head.
 
“I’m not allowed to leave.
 
It’s against regulations.”

“Fuck regulations,” Spocatti said.
 
“If we don’t do something soon, this woman will be in serious trouble.”

Alex glanced at Celina and saw that she was having difficulty breathing.
 
A mixture of fear and exhaustion was stamped on her face.
 
He looked at Spocatti.
 
“Why don’t you swim to shore?” he said.
 
“I’ll stay with her.”

“I can’t swim to shore,” Spocatti said. “I’ve hurt my leg.”

“It was fine a moment ago.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, pal.
 
I twisted it when I fell.
 
I just don’t show pain as easily as you do.
 
Now, either move your ass and get something to help this woman, or we’ll see you in court.”

The two men stared at one another.
 
Then Alex made his decision and dived beneath the surface, leaving Spocatti alone with Celina.

He swam in front of her. “Do you have any feeling left in your legs?”

“Some,” she said.
 
“But they’re tingling.
 
And they’re colder than the rest of me.
 
What happened?”