I drove down the highway, my palms nervously moving around the edges of the steering wheel. I saw the sign for Exit 266 and turned off, slowed then stopped. Sure enough, a small sign ahead with an arrow pointed to the right. I drove half a mile and there it was on the right, a blue house with a big sign that said Bob’s Parachuting Company. I swallowed hard and turned into the dirt parking lot.
I stepped outside and looked around. It appeared to be deserted. I looked up into the sky. The rain had passed and you could still see a few clouds, even a very small rainbow off in the distance. I looked back at the house, wondering if the weather would cancel my maiden parachuting voyage.
I walked closer and saw a man was sitting on the porch. He appeared to be sleeping. I had the idea to go talk to him so moved closer. There were old rusty tools laying around the house and one even had a shriveled apple laying on top of it with a beetle crawling all around it. The whole place had a distinct air of abandonment and decay. Inside, I was feeling even more nervous but also a thread of hope… maybe I wouldn’t have to go after all.
I looked up at the sky again and noticed a slight, silvery sliver of moon still in the sky. Behind me I heard someone cough and I jumped. A nice woman of about 60 had appeared from somewhere.
“I’m sorry but Bob has retired,” she said. “We haven’t taken down the website yet either so I’m sorry if you were misled.”
I felt relief and sadness both. I turned back to Bob still snoozing on the porch, his building still safely padlocked shut. Maybe some other time I would try out parachuting, but not today. I got into my truck and drove off toward the highway.
