Idle Thoughts
1,464 words

Lisa Philips was afraid of heights. It was the one thing she didn’t inherit. Her corn silk hair came from her mother. The deep brown eyes and oval face came from her father. Grandma Elsie donated the long legs that were counterbalanced by Uncle Norm’s enormous feet. But acrophobia wasn’t found anywhere in the family tree.
Her parents told her it stemmed from a family trip to the Grand Canyon when she was just over a year old. Her father wanted to give her a better view, so he held her up and leaned over the railing. Apparently she had enjoyed it at first, even giggling with her precious infant laugh. But her father had lingered in space a few moments too long and Lisa had suddenly started to scream like the devil had just pinched her leg. She was inconsolable until they buckled her safely into the car. It was from this day that as a child she wouldn’t go anywhere near the edge… of anything. Not the curb of the street, not the edge of the steps, she didn’t even jump on the bed.
Fortunately for Lisa, she had very supportive parents. They taught her to face her fears, to conquer them. They would go camping in the mountains, take long hikes along narrow ridges, ride on roller coasters and Ferris wheels. ‘There is nothing to fear, but fear itself’ became Lisa’s personal mantra.
On one such occasion near her eighth birthday, while viewing the particularly majestic vista of a 500 foot ravine, Lisa had a disturbing thought. What if I fell? The thought surprised her, coming as if from nowhere. And then her mother took her by the hand and they turned around and walked back down the trail.
In Junior High she met Billy Grover at the Spring Fair and they rode the Ferris Wheel together. Lisa had never been so scared. Then, just as they peaked the circle and began to come down again, the wheel stopped. Lisa thought she could see the whole city from that basket. And then she thought, What if I jumped? The clasp on this bar is so flimsy; everyone would think it was an accident if I just slipped it open. I wouldn’t even have to lean very far. Billy chose just that moment to finally face his own fears and awkwardly grab her hand. Lisa started, closed her eyes, and held onto that hand with all her might. Billy decided he must be smoother than he thought.
Two months after Lisa got her license, her best friend Sherrie convinced her they should skip class and drive up to ‘The Point’. She insisted that if they did, then when a boy finally took one of them up there they would ‘not look all stupid and stuff.’
Lisa carefully maneuvered her dad’s old Nissan up the winding road. Halfway up, she came to a hairpin turn and thought, What if I just kept driving? Her hands tightened on the wheel and she shot a look at Sherrie out of the corner of her eye, afraid her friend might have somehow heard. Sherrie was still talking in her normal rapid-fire speech. Lisa tried to ignore the thought, to dismiss it. But at the next turn, and the next, and the next, it returned, accompanied by others. I wonder how far out the car go would before it started to fall? Would it feel like flying? By the time Lisa got to the top and parked she was breathing erratically. Even Sherrie could tell something was up. She raised one eyebrow in the look that told Lisa she expected her to ‘share’.
“Do you ever have, like totally crazy thoughts?” Lisa asked, her voice almost hopeful.
Sherrie laughed, “You tell me I’m crazy like fifty times a day, Lisa.”
“No, I mean like really crazy,” Lisa persisted, “I mean like what if while we’re here we decide to pull a Thelma and Louise?”
“Are you serious?” Sherrie laughed. Then she looked concerned, “Are you okay?”
“No, I mean, yeah I’m fine.” Lisa said shaking her head, “It’s just that sometimes these, like crazy ideas pop into my head. Like driving up here with all those turns, I thought, ‘What if I just kept going?’” Lisa stopped talking and watched Sherrie, fully expecting her to flip out.
“You mean like standing at the edge of a balcony and thinking about falling?” Sherrie asked.
“Yes!” Lisa cried in relief, “Exactly like that! I’m not, like the only one?”
“Duh, Lisa! Everyone has crazy stuff like that go through their heads sometimes. My mom calls them ‘idle thoughts’. It’s not like you’d ever really drive off a cliff.” She gave Lisa another meaningful look.
“Of course not!” she insisted.
“Good ‘cause otherwise, I’m totally the one driving home,” Sherrie responded emphatically. Both girls laughed and the conversation was soon forgotten, though Lisa wasn’t sure about the ‘sometimes’ part of her ‘idle thoughts’.
During the summer after high school graduation, the gang got together and decided to have one last ‘totally wicked time’ before they all split up for college. It was decided an overnight camping trip, complete with backpacking and repelling was the best idea. When she got too close to the edge hiking up and down the ravine, Lisa’s blood ran cold, and her palms got sweaty. But she was so used to doing things that brought out this response in her that she didn’t pay it any more attention than the shortness of breath she got from the altitude. When she was suspended 250 feet in the air, repelling straight down and thought, What if I just let go?, she was so accustomed to her ‘idle thoughts’ that she was not only unafraid of them, but allowed them to run free. How far would I fall before the others knew what was happening? Would they be able to stop me? Would it feel more like flying than falling from this high up?
By the time she got to college, the more something scared her, the more she felt obligated to try it. Which is probably why, when her boyfriend Charlie suggested they go skydiving to celebrate her twenty-first birthday, she was all for it. It turned into a big event, with all her friends and family turning up to watch.
In the airplane, she was terrified. When they opened the door, she nearly wet her pants. Charlie went first and made it look so easy. Standing in the open doorway, as the wind whipped at her face and she watched him fall, she had to ask the instructor to push her out of the plane.
And then she was flying. She had never felt such exhilaration or such abject terror in all her life. It was the best and worst of everything. I wonder how long I can really fall before I absolutely have to pull the cord? She closed her eyes and the Earth was no longer hurtling towards her. Perhaps I’ll just keep falling, right through the Earth and out the other side.
She didn’t.
Chaos erupted from the crowd on the ground. Women were screaming, men were shouting, people rushed forward then froze realizing it was too late to do anything. Getting closer would only burn a more detailed image of gore into their minds. No one could believe the mess of blood, bones, clothes and less identifiable bits was really their dear, brave Lisa.
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“Alright, you win,” Clara sneered, rolling her invisible eyes. “Though it hardly counts. I mean really, Sebastian, twenty years?”
“The bet only specified type of death, not how long I took,” he replied contemptuously. “Suicide is Suicide. Besides, this one took some work, some finesse. It was really a fantastic challenge.”
“Yes, so you’ve been saying for the last decade,” she replied, waving her nonexistent hand dismissively, “I’m just glad she finally got what she deserved. The nerve of that little nit, distracting her father while I was whispering in his ear.” Clara’s voice suddenly became brighter, “But it was a spectacular show, in the end. And now it’s my turn. Wasn’t Mrs. Philips video taping the whole marvelous thing?” She began floating in the direction of the distraught observers.
“Mrs. Philips? Really, Clara, you have no imagination. She’s most likely halfway gone already,” Sebastian said drifting along side her, his bodiless voice laced with contempt.
“Suicide is Suicide,” Clara mimicked.
“Now Mr. Philips, he’s a rock. If anything he’s going to be even stronger now because he has to keep his wife together. And of course, he denied you once already,” taunted Sebastian. “That’s one mind you’ll never be able to sway.”
“Care to make a bet?” Clara laughed malevolently, her silent voice echoing into the open sky.