Geronimo!!!

My hand was resting on the cold iron rail. I peered up, scrutinizing the big, white ride, which seemed, from where my cold, bare feet lay, to plunge from the sky. My stomach sunk like an elevator and my eyebrows wrinkled like an old man’s forehead. It was a slide, that’s all, just a humongous slide. Yet, it scared me senseless.  Nevertheless, I put one foot in front of the other and slithered up the winding ramp. I was going to do it; I was going on the Geronimo!

Half-way up to the summit, the danger that was ahead finally dawned on me. It seemed a lot scarier, now that I was this close. I gestured to my mom, who was waiting nearby the landing pool, to take humiliating pictures of me, to come closer. But unfortunately, she did not understand and merely expressed that she was staying put. I frantically waved my hands, “Come on!” I cried. After five minutes of meaningless gesticulating, I retraced my steps down the ramp, walked over to her, and asked how deep the landing pool was. She scurried over to check, came back and reported that it was five feet. In normal circumstances, five feet would not be so bad, but from that height…scary. Certainly I was not that brave; I probably would stay safe down here with my mom.

The next moment I found myself running up the ramp again. Something had sprung up inside me; something had awoken from its deep slumber. I looked at the ride again, but not with fear, it was a new feeling. It was excitement.

But as the altitude of the railing increased, fear crawled back in. Was I sure I was going to do this? Something inside me said ‘no’. But I did not listen, and I kept on going. “Coming?” said a voice from above and “Coming!”  I shouted back. And soon I was there with my mom’s friend, with the opening of ‘Geronimo’ right in front of us. That little open space of linoleum seemed to cackle ominously, mocking me.  All the running, the talking, and the gesturing I had done before was long forgotten. Everything boiled down to this; everything seemed to be waiting, waiting for me to start walking.

My heart thumped madly and I had half a mind to turn around and run. But I walked forward, barely conscious of what I was doing. I settled in, and then looked down.

I froze. This was a nightmare! I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t! I looked down again wide-eyed, searching for the light blue speck where I would soon be landing. It was way too far away! I wanted to chicken out, but I seemed to be glued on to the seat. I could just imagine myself falling; but I blinked furiously, trying to shove the image out of my mind.  My heart was racing and I, starting to hyperventilate, gripped the railings very hard, and moaned like a cranky toddler.

My hands were numb, and my feet were slipping and sliding, afraid of the steep slope ahead. Everything was a blur. Wondering whether this was my last hour, I closed my eyes and tried not to imagine my funeral. I was going to die and I knew it.

But after an annoyed look from the life guard and encouragement from my mom’s friend, my brain switched off, and I fell into a trance. I, somehow, wriggled down the chute, and…plummeted.

All I felt at that moment was, surprisingly, sweet, peaceful oblivion. The world had disappeared; I could have been flying, or gliding, or maybe even soaring, but I cannot remember.

The next thing I knew, after my six story freefall, was that I was spluttering and gasping in a five foot pool. My eyes suddenly flew open.  “I don’t know what you were doing up there,” The edgy life guard said. “Trust me,” I thought, “I have no clue either,”.