deepundergroundpoetry.com

Leap of a Lifetime

 
New Zealand is known throughout the world for two things – sheep and Bungy Jumping. I have seen enough sheep in Australia to satisfy my longing so I decided that while I was in New Zealand I would experience their other famous export for myself.
 Not that I had any intention of doing this crazy stunt before I left home. Oh No! There were plenty of other things for me to waste my money on. But it’s funny how situations change!
 Anyway, enough of that! The point is that, at this moment, I am waiting in a queue of people about to take the leap of a lifetime. Will I survive what lies ahead of me or will I become part of the murky depths as the band breaks and I – No! I will not think about that!
 My turn edges closer as another thrill – seeker plummets over the edge. My stomach is turning flip – flops and my mouth is parched and dry. My palms have formed little rivers of sweat and I wipe them on my shirt. It doesn’t do much good, that’s dripping too.
 It is now my turn to take the plunge. I gaze up into the eyes of the attendants, seeking reassurance but not expecting any. One of them simply asks “Nervous?”
 “Petrified, “I whisper, my voice barely audible.
 He laughs, “You’ll be right,” and reaches for my application form
 I watch as his attentive eyes scan the form detailing my age, height, weight and medical status, knowing full well the next question that will spring from his lips.
 He suddenly stops reading. “Epilepsy!” he exclaims, and looks at me questioningly. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
 I nod in answer, unable to speak but hoping my expression conveys a feeling of confidence.
 He stares at me, the concern on his face causing his brow to furrow. Then, with a quick, deft action his signature is added to the page and I am passed fit to jump. I hope I know what I’m doing.
 I begin to concentrate on what is happening at the other end of the platform. My ankles have been tied together with what looks like an ordinary household towel. Attached to that are reels of what is going to send me over the edge – the lackey band.
 I am directed to stand and make my way over to the edge. I can’t walk properly so am forced to do my best Daffy Duck impression and waddle. Daring myself to look down, the realisation of what I am about to do suddenly hits home, and instead of stomach flip –flops my heart is now palpitating at a rate of knots. Fifty feet over Queenstown’s Kawarau River and I’m trusting my life to a rubber band! I must be mad!
 
 “Wave to the camera,” I am directed, and I suddenly recall that I am being watched by approximately fifty people and will be receiving proof of my stupidity on film. I give a feeble little wave and an insipid smile, hoping the onlookers cannot notice the constant shaking of my knees. Now I’m set!
 A hush falls over the crowd as they wait in anticipation. Then the cry goes out “Three…Two…One”
 The next thing I know my feet have sprung from the platform as if by magic. I open my mouth and let fly with a loud cry of “BUNGEEEEE!!!” as I begin the journey downwards.
 I can feel the rush of the wind through my hair as the speed rapidly increases. The water is closing in on me and I keep expecting the band to break or tighten at any moment.
 Suddenly it happens! It is not a sudden jerk that leaves me with jarred ankles, nor does it make my head fly forward causing whiplash type effects. It is just a slight tug that momentarily leaves me dangling inches from the water, and then in recoil motion flies upwards, taking me with it.
 I receive an instant surge of adrenalin all the fear, excitement and anxiety that I have previously experienced become unleashed in one almighty scream.
 I continue to bounce up and down gradually becoming slower and slower until I come to a sudden halt. I am still hanging and shaking from excitement when a small motor boat appears from a crevice in the rocks below. A metal pole is hoisted up to me and I hear someone shout “Grab it! We’ll pull you in”
 My mind is still a daze as I take a firm hold of the pole and allow the attendants to guide me towards the boat. I land with a sudden thump and begin to untie my ankles, but my fingers seem to have gone numb so I sit back and allow them to do it.
 “How was it,” I am asked
 I look at them hopefully “Can I do it again?”
 They roar with laughter, then turn the boat around and head back to shore with another satisfied customer.
Written by spacemod69
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