The cameras, the cameras. They were making his life hell. The date was set again for September 23rd and everyone seemed confident that the ramp and the car would be ready. The machine was in motion. Jules was in Ottawa, filming a Wide World of Sports profile, “training” for the jump. Why Ottawa? Who knew. A prettier backdrop, maybe, and better hotels for the crew. Jules stubbed out his cigarette and jogged for the camera as it rolled backward on a trolley of some kind, and he lied about the need to stay in top physical condition in order to smash himself to bits in a car. (He was winded and his gait was lopsided. But never mind.)
Then the producers had him in a kayak in the canal that wound through the city. Geese and ducks swam up to him, curious. He had insisted on a life jacket. There was something about the murkiness of the canal, the occasional flash of carp scales near the surface that unnerved him. The life jacket pushed up uncomfortably against his chin. The crew teased him, asked him if he was going to wear a life jacket on the day of the big jump. He grinned sweatily into the camera. Clearly they didn’t understand the plan. “I’m not gonna kayak across the river, fellas. I’m gonna fly.”
Back in Preston Mills, they took him and Trudy in a boat to the island across from the ramp, his purported landing spot. (Although Jules talked about jumping over the river and the stunt was being marketed as “The Mile Jump,” the plan was to jump to an island in the middle of the river. It was not really a mile away from the shore. Probably half a mile. It was still preposterous.) He and a reporter sat on stumps on the island, tall grass waving around them, the water lapping against the shore. Trudy stood behind the cameramen. This was the first time she had seen him in promotion mode, performing for the cameras. He hoped he didn’t look like he felt: a bit off, a bit sick to his stomach.
“Now, Jules, I can’t help but notice that there are a fair number of trees on this island. Are you worried about that?”
“No. You see, we didn’t want to disturb the landscape here too much. The car I have can be steered in the air. State of the art. The steering wheel moves the wings, so I can actually be pretty precise. Plus there’s a parachute.”
There was a long pause. The two men stared across the water at the ramp in the distance.
“I was actually thinking of planting roses here.” Jules got up from his stump and gestured around himself, making a slow circle. He was making this up. But he liked it. He could see it in his mind. “You know, it would make the landing site easy to see from the air. And make a nice soft landing. A big long bed of red roses.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jules saw Trudy turn away from them and look toward the wide grey river. He thought he could see her shoulders begin to shake.