Roc felt like he might have been a little heavy-handed with the eyeliner, but he didn’t know how close the MTV cameras were going to get, and he wanted to look good. Dressed to kill, he thought wryly as he pulled on his black jeans, waiting for his hair to dry and the Midnight Velvet colour to settle. He tossed the bottle with his face on it into the trash and looked around the room. Uncle had stressed that he had to leave everything as it was in the hotel room, but he had a sports bag with his portable studio, his latest song book, his favorite antique watch — the six-sided Illinois — and two photos, the baby shot of Emma that Tabbie had sent him eighteen years ago and the one of Bobbie hiking in Big Sur. He put his Martin D-28 into the case and snapped it shut, shuddering at the unavoidable coffin image as he did so.
Uncle grabbed the guitar and bag, and they left the hotel, past a dozy all-night desk clerk and into the cool pre-dawn darkness. Eddie smiled in the mirror as Roc sank back into the seat with his eyes closed and his mind racing.
“I’m guessing you didn’t have any breakfast,” said Uncle, handing Roc a cold Mango Strawberry Delight. “You all right?”
“Yeah, this is just a whole new kind of weird for me,” said Roc in little more than a whisper.
“Nick has been flying choppers for years,” said Eddie. “Used to work for the Coast Guard. He’s done the whole air-sea rescue thing countless times. He says being able to plan it is a luxury he’s not used to.”
“Just focus on the freedom, my brother,” Uncle added.
“I just wish I was already there,” Roc replied and closed his eyes again.
They pulled into a sedate, gated architectural home in La Jolla as the sun started to slant down on the Pacific Ocean just beyond. Once the iron gates closed automatically, the hush returned to the grounds and Eddie pulled the car up to the edge of a heliport. It was surrounded by rich landscaping and offered a dramatic view of the sea. Roc could feel the butterflies dancing and tasted the sour return of the fruit shake he was sorry he’d drunk.
Nick opened the limo door ceremoniously. “Thanks for flying Air Play. Let us give you a spin.” He shook hands with Roc then Uncle as they emerged from the car. The morning sun sparkled on the gleaming blades of the helicopter sitting on a logo designed to look like an old 45 rpm record. Little flying music notes decorated the side of the craft. “Nice to finally meet you, Roc. How’s tricks, Uncle? Let me show you the set-up.”
“I’m just going to check out your rig while you brief Roc, okay?” said Uncle.
Nick patiently went over all aspects of the jump, cheerfully explaining the equipment and what Roc had to do with it. “Now, normally, you’d have been practicing all this beforehand, with tandem jumps and so on, but we’re going to keep it simple today. It’s more a hop and pop than a real jump. You’ll be on a Telesis 2 harness with an automatic opener on the main and reserve parachutes. You’ll also be attached to this baby; it’s a Lucas three hundred pound external hoist. You’ll be going out at around thirty-five hundred feet, and we’ll hover just above the cloud cover, ready to reel you in. Okay?”
Uncle glanced over at Roc and Nick conferring. He ran his hand over the rescue cable and felt his breath shorten. It was a fine line between faking a disappearance and actually disappearing, wasn’t it? He looked back again and saw Roc nodding, trusting as always.
Roc asked if there was anything dangerous about all of this. Nick smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure Uncle told you how long I’ve been doing this. Most accidents happen because of someone improperly folding their chute, but I took care of that for you.” He slipped the gear onto Roc’s back and strapped it into place. “If you want to get fancy while you’re out there, you can use these control knobs. They spill air out of one side or the other, increase or decrease the lift for turning, but I’m guessing you’re not going to be doing much of that, right?”
Roc nodded mutely as Nick handed a headset to him. “It’s kinda loud once we get going, so you’ll need these.” Uncle put his arm on Roc’s shoulder and turned to Nick. “Give us a moment, would you?” They stepped away from the chopper as Nick climbed in and started it up.
Roc looked terrified. “What if this doesn’t work? Or no one buys it? Like me, right now.”
The roar of the engine and the rush of wind from the blades made it hard to concentrate, and Uncle had to shout. “Listen, the viewers won’t see much. Beach Blast shoots this early to avoid the heat and the harsh light.” He gestured toward the ocean. “That morning haze out there serves us very well. Once you’re on your way up, it’ll look like you got caught in an updraft or a chute malfunction.”
Roc blanched at this, and Uncle continued, seeing him faltering. “It’s cool. Worst case, you land, do the show … look, the MTV shooters are hand-held and are used to zooming in on beach volleyball butts.” Uncle put his hand on Roc’s shoulder. “Not to denigrate that, of course.” Roc smiled thinly.
“You look great, man. No worries. Once you get close enough to be recognized from the ground, they’ll start playing the track for ‘Swan Dive,’ anticipating your landing, and the kids will start to sing along. That’ll be the cue for Eddie to haul you in. I’ve hired a couple of extra shooters to make sure we get the whole thing in case the network guys are asleep. I’m going to cab it to Malibu to meet Marie and Stan and the rest of the crew, and I’ll see you here as soon as I can get back. All right?”
Roc nodded and blinked away the dust from his eyes during Uncle’s instructions, feeling like everything was moving dreamlike, just beyond his touch. He mumbled, “Thanks, man.” Uncle patted him on the back and gave Eddie, who was waiting beside the car, a thumbs up.
Inside the chopper, the roar was tremendous, and Roc immediately put on his headset. “Ladies and gentlemen, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position, and that your seatbelts are securely fastened at all times during takeoff.” Nick turned and grinned at Roc and Eddie, continuing in a melodious voice. “We know you have an option, and we thank you for choosing Air Play, the Rock of the Sky.” It struck Roc as perhaps not the most reassuring of company slogans. Nick’s spiel reminded him of the ridiculous intros that Eddie used to insist on in the studio when they were cutting tunes in the old days, and he smiled at the memory.
Nick ran over the parachute equipment one more time, and Roc was glad he did. A lot of it sounded as if he’d never heard it before. A few minutes later, they were circling about a half a mile south of the MTV Beach Blast location, waiting for the signal from Uncle, who was on a two-way radio. When the moment came, Roc felt the top of his helmet and ran his shaking hands down the straps on his parachute. His throat was incredibly dry, and tears from the wind blurred his eyes as he tried to find the beach through the surrounding clouds. He wondered briefly how Nick could tell where anything was and how he would know exactly when to tell Roc to jump. Just at that moment, he heard Nick’s voice in his headset. “Okay, flyboy, are you ready for your close-up? You’ll be clear before the chute pops, but don’t worry, it will.”
Eddie had his arm around Roc and was saying something that Roc couldn’t make out, and the next thing he knew he was in the sky in freefall. Moments later, he felt the chute open, and an invisible hand seemed to jerk his body back into place. Instantly he could make out the water and the beach and tiny figures below. He felt a rush of excitement and a strange sense of joy and freedom as he got used to his perspective on the planet. He was short of breath, but it seemed as if the terror of anticipation had been replaced by an unbelievable exhilaration.
The scene below was coming into focus, and he could see the volleyball nets and the little stage where MTV was expecting him to land. He saw camera people moving into position and an excited looking scrum of beach babes and hunks gathering near the stage with its Beach Blast banner flapping in the wind. To one side of the set, he could make out Uncle’s shining dome and beside him Marie — and was that Julie? He felt a smile pressed onto a face that no longer felt like his own as he drifted slowly toward the target. Now he could make out the faces and hear the track for “Swan Dive” booming out of the speakers mounted behind the stage. At that instant he felt himself being yanked again, and his head tipped forward involuntarily. His body jerked back and forth hard before he felt the upward tug of the winch from the chopper. He tried to steady himself and accidentally pulled on one of the lift controls, sending himself wildly to one side. He stretched his arms out to his sides to try to right himself, and he tilted backwards so that he was looking up into his parachute, which seemed to be losing its shape. He could just make out the light blue cable that was attached to him and felt another wild jerk upwards. He straightened out long enough to see the expressions of the people below turning from cheers to surprise as he rapidly ascended. He saw camera operators scrambling to get shots of his departure and Chad Sparx pointing up at him. The rest became a blur as Roc was pulled back into the chopper above the clouds, and he didn’t really have a sense of the drama until watching later on TV. Eddie was madly hauling in the parachute as the hoist took care of Roc’s body, dancing like a marionette below. When he was pulled into the chopper, he felt a disarming dizziness, and all he could do was crawl shivering to the open door and dry heave into the clouds below.