As soon as Cameron started to fall, his new fast-reflexed friend kicked into action. He still had a hold of the piece of fabric, which now trailed out behind him, flapping madly in the wind. Holding tightly onto the end in his hand, he threw his body into a spin. The fabric spun around himself until the free flying end had moved to more accessible position. Cameron reached out a hand and grabbed on. Holding tightly, he pulled the end of it over his head. The air quickly filled the material, which unwrapped around him quite violently. Cameron spun around, the material spinning off of him and winding around his wrist. When it was fully deployed, it caught the air and slowed down Cameron’s descent with a jolt. A sudden flash of pain erupted in Cameron’s shoulder. He’d either torn a muscle of dislocated his shoulder. No time to worry about that now, he thought. That was the easy part.
He’d managed to slow his descent, but it wasn’t enough. He was still falling towards the ground at an unsafe velocity. To make matters worse, he’d started spinning uncontrollably. This was no parachute he was holding. The air was getting trapped under the material, Cameron’s weight below being the only thing stopping its escape. This caused the material to constantly tip the angle of it to allow the air to pass out, causing the lurching, swinging, spinning motion that now had Cameron in it’s grip. Cameron fought as hard as he could to retain his hold on his impromptu lifeline. He didn’t want the last thing to go through his mind before he died to be his spinal cord. A gust of wind caught the falling figure, blowing him towards one of the neighbouring buildings that lived in the tower’s shadow. Cameron grimaced as he slammed into the side of the building, almost causing him to lose his grip on the make shift parachute. But he held fast. He tried to push himself up against the building as much as possible, using the dragging motion to slow his descent even further. The rough edging of the building tore through his clothes and his skin, causing him to call out in pain. Looking down, he realised he still hadn’t slowed down enough. The roof of the building below him was coming up fast, and at the speed he was travelling, the impact would leave his legs as little more than beef mince. Off to the side, he saw the open area of the Mall itself, laying a good six or seven stories lower than the roof below him. That just might give him enough time to slow to a point where he wouldn’t be turned into a Jackson Pollock painting. He better do something fast, he thought, cause that roof was rushing up to meet him fast, and it didn’t look friendly.
Cameron brought his legs up and pushed himself as far away as from the building as he could. He spun around, the chute flipping him around again. He swung his body as far over as he possibly could, swinging and stretching, trying to make the chute go in the direction he wanted. The edge of the roof came up, and with last-ditch effort, he swung himself out and over the side. Falling further, he saw what looked like a flagpole jutting out the side of one of the buildings that was closer to ground level. Swinging his legs, he aimed the parachute at the pole as best he could. The apex of the chute manages to just snag the top of the pole. It caught, sending Cameron swinging into the ornate concrete side of the storefront. This time it was too much for him, and he lost his grip on one end of the material. Now only about 4 stories above the ground, he started to fall again. He crashed into the wood awning that jutted out from the top of the store, smashing through it. Just below that was a delivery van that had been parked out front of the store whose awning Cameron had just destroyed. The van was Cam’s final stop on his express flight down, hitting the roof broadside. Cameron had managed to slow his descent significantly, but the force of his fall still came with enough energy that it shattered all the windows of the Van and caved in the roof. When the dust cleared, Cameron lay in the roof’s indentation, battered, bloody and still.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
4. THE FALL
Like the rest of the crowd in Sydney’s Pitt Street Mall, Dan was transfixed by the events taking place above. He shielded his eyes with his hand, trying to get a better look, but it didn’t help much. The height they were at, compounded by the sunny day and the glare made getting a decent view of what was going on pretty much impossible. Quickly, Dan scanned the crowd. Many people had video cameras and still cameras pointed at the action, all on full zoom, and all on record. Later that night, the website YouTube would actually crash from people trying to both upload and watch footage of the event. Dan saw one man with a pair of binoculars standing a few feet away. He quickly ran over to him, trying to keep an eye on what was happening above.
“Can you see?” Dan asked, still trying to squint through the glare.
“Yeah. There’s two of them. A guy and what looks like a kid. The guys got a hold of the kid by the foot. It looks like he’s trying to. . .OH SHIT!!”
A pretty blonde lady in a business suit had overheard the commentary, and was now listening intently. “What happened!?”
“Whatever he’s got a hold of just slipped! It’s flapping in the wind now. He’s still got a hold of the kid but, . .. What’s he doing?”
Dan squinted and stared, trying to make out the shapes up above.
“What? What is it? What are they doing?”
The man with the binoculars was squinting, trying to make sense of the sight above him.
“It looks like he’s swinging the kid.” The man paused. A larger crowd had started to listen to the man’s play by play of the situation, and they collectively held their breath.
“He got the kid in!”
A small cheer erupted through the crowd. Dan smiled slightly to himself.
“All right. The guys swinging back now. Looks like he’s. . . OH GOD!”
The man dropped his binoculars from his eyes.
“He fell!”
Dan spun his attention from the man to the tower above him. He saw the red dot start to fall away from the tower. 20 years ago, Dan had made a decision that he had not once regretted. But right now, as he felt the same inability to act as those who stood around him, forced only to watch, a thought entered his head that he had never been there before. Right now, he wished he could take the choice back. Just as the gravity of that threatened to consume him, someone beside him yelled.
“Look!”
Dan looked skyward, unprepared for what he was now seeing.
“Can you see?” Dan asked, still trying to squint through the glare.
“Yeah. There’s two of them. A guy and what looks like a kid. The guys got a hold of the kid by the foot. It looks like he’s trying to. . .OH SHIT!!”
A pretty blonde lady in a business suit had overheard the commentary, and was now listening intently. “What happened!?”
“Whatever he’s got a hold of just slipped! It’s flapping in the wind now. He’s still got a hold of the kid but, . .. What’s he doing?”
Dan squinted and stared, trying to make out the shapes up above.
“What? What is it? What are they doing?”
The man with the binoculars was squinting, trying to make sense of the sight above him.
“It looks like he’s swinging the kid.” The man paused. A larger crowd had started to listen to the man’s play by play of the situation, and they collectively held their breath.
“He got the kid in!”
A small cheer erupted through the crowd. Dan smiled slightly to himself.
“All right. The guys swinging back now. Looks like he’s. . . OH GOD!”
The man dropped his binoculars from his eyes.
“He fell!”
Dan spun his attention from the man to the tower above him. He saw the red dot start to fall away from the tower. 20 years ago, Dan had made a decision that he had not once regretted. But right now, as he felt the same inability to act as those who stood around him, forced only to watch, a thought entered his head that he had never been there before. Right now, he wished he could take the choice back. Just as the gravity of that threatened to consume him, someone beside him yelled.
“Look!”
Dan looked skyward, unprepared for what he was now seeing.
Friday, September 26, 2008
3. The Rescue
“RUN!”
Cameron was at full speed before he even had time to contemplate where the command had come from. It wasn’t so much a conscious thought, or even a word in his head for that matter. More a compulsion that had hit him with the ferocity of a icy gust of wind out of a still night. He suddenly just had to . . .
What? His direction was taking him straight at the annoying little brat near the window. The Kid! He had to get the kid away from the window! Why? Don’t ask! Just move! Cameron took another running step, then launched himself through the air towards the child. The movement was all instinct. There wasn’t enough time for any kind of thought processes. Just as Cameron left the ground, the boy’s final thud on the window jolted something free. Something clicked, something clanked. Something cracked and gave way, causing the entire glass plane to suddenly fall free from it’s mounting. A sudden, ferocious gust of wind, caused by the change in air pressure, helped suck the window out. The boy, who had been leaning all his weight on the window, tried desperately to regain his balance and change his momentum, but the rush of air exiting the window was too strong for him. He tumbled forward, losing his balance and fell, head first, out the window. Cameron, still in mid flight, stretched his arm out as far as possible. The boy was quickly disappearing over the ledge. Cameron reached out and grabbed. His hand just caught the boys ankle as he tumbled over the ledge.
Cameron's dramatic run and leap had the desired the effect. He got there just in time to catch the boy as he was about to take Olympic level high diving to a whole new level. Unfortunately, because his rescue attempt had been set in motion solely by instinct, he didn’t really have time to think about the possible consequences of his actions. For instance, he had managed to catch the boy successfully.
But who was going to catch him?
“Oh shit!”
With his free arm, Cameron desperately grabbed at something – anything – to try and slow himself down. He finally managed to grab a hold of the edge of the red covering material that was on top of the ledge the boy had been standing on. Cameron gripped on tightly, a small smile starting to form on his mouth. The smile faded immediately when a large ripping noise sounded as the material was tron from it’s fasteners.
“SHIIIIIIT!!!!!”
By this time, some of the other patrons had leapt into action. One, a particularly stocky builders/labourer named Melvin, had brought his two young kids up to the tower for the day, just to spend a little bit of family time together. He’d seen so little of them recently that he had worried that their opinion of him was starting to decline. After today, his kids opinion of their dad would never be in doubt again. Melvin dived forward and managed to grab hold of the tearing material. The other end of it had finally met a connection it couldn’t break. So Cameron and the kid’s plummet had been temporarily halted. Another tourist, a substitute teacher named John who had desires of being a writer, had gone running up to the window. After checking that Melvin had a solid grasp of the material, he leaned out the window. Hanging about 4 foot down from the window ledge was Cameron, clinging desperately onto the material with one hand, the small boy’s ankle with the other. The child wasn’t moving.
“Are you alight?” John yelled out, trying to get his voice heard above the rushing of the wind.
Despite the tense situation, Cameron’s response made him smile.
“I don’t like heights!”
“Is he OK?” John asked, gesturing towards the boy who was hanging like a rag doll in Cam's hand.
“He hit his head when we fell out. I think he’s knocked himself out”
“Just hang on! We’re going to try to pull you up!”
“I ain’t going anywhere!” John leaned back inside and turned to Melvin. Some of the other men in the crowd had run up and grabbed hold of the material, backing Melvin up.
"You got that?” John asked?
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Pushing through the crowd to the right, came Tory. She tried to get up to a window to see, but couldn’t get close enough. Off to the left, the boy’s mother was suddenly extremely concerned about her child’s welfare. Amazing how a simple thing like a potential plummet to your death can do that.
“Where’s my Baby! Where is he?” She screamed, hysterically. John had to almost physically stop her from diving out the window herself.
"He’s fine! The guy caught him”
“His names’ Cameron” Tory found herself calling from the sides. Almost completely distraught, she realised how silly it was that people be accurate with his name.
“Cameron then. You, big guy!”
“Melvin”
“ Melvin. You think you can start pulling them up?”
“No worries”
John leaned out the window. Cameron was still holding on for dear life.
“We’re going to start pulling you up!”
“Get me up close enough so I can pass you the kid!”
“We’ll get you both in!”
“GET THE KID FIRST!”
John turned back to Melvin
“GO!”
“HEAVE!!” Shouted Melvin. Him and the others dug in their feet and started pulling backwards. John turned back around and watched as Cameron slowly started to rise up.
“Somebody grab my belt!” John yelled, as he started to lean out of the window. Two others from the crowd had run forward and grabbed onto john. He leaned as far out the window as he dared. Below him, Cameron started to lift the boy across his body, towards John’s outstretched hand. Standing beside John, trying desperately to see out the window, Tory looked for any sight of her dangling boyfriend. So she was in just the right position to hear the material to her side rip.
“It’s ripping!” She screamed, desperately trying to find a hand hold on the deteriorating material. John quickly glanced at the tear, then turned back to Cameron.
“Hand me him! Quickly!”
Cameron lifted the boy up as high as he could. John stretched out, trying desperately to get ahold of the boy’s ankle. He almost had him, when a large chunk of material pulled free. Cameron dropped a few feet, stopping abruptly when the material pulled tight again.
Back inside, Tory and some others tried in vain to get a firm handhold onto the slipping material, but it pulled way tight. Tears were streaming down Tory’s face as she valiantly tried to stop it from slipping any further.
A sudden high pitched scream caught them all by surprise. The sudden jolt from the fall had snapped the boy out of his daze. He now seemed to realise the true nature of his predicament and panic had well and truly set in. Cameron held on tightly as the boy started to kick and thrash about.
“Calm down Kid! Stop kicking!” Unfortunately, the boy was far from being able to listen to reason. Inside, the boys mother was screaming from behind the crowd.
“They’re gonna fall! Pull them up, please! They’re gonna die!”
Melvin watched as the young mother fretted hysterically. He glanced over towards his own family, where his 7 year old son was watching with a look of both fear and awe on his small face. Glancing up again at the young mother, emoting in waves of fear and anger, a strange calm and a resolve came over Melvin.
“Not today!” he said, with a conviction that surprised even himself. Melvin wrapped the material around his arm, planted his feet and gritted his teeth. He looked over at John, who nodded at him.
“HEAVE!!” He yelled! They pulled as hard as they could, and Cameron started to lift again. This sudden movement however, sent the kid into a blind panic, and he began to thrash wildly.
“Stop Kicking!” Cameron screamed. But it was too late. The boys movements sent shudders through the length of the material, causing Tory’s end to shear off and slip. Now the full weight of both Cameron and the Boy was transferred to Melvin's side. The others who were helping lost there grip as Melvin was suddenly jerked forward. He stumbled forward a few steps before being able to right himself. He gripped tighter and strained backwards. John, almost falling out the window himself, grabbed ahold of the edge of the window and reached down. The sudden drop had started Cameron swinging, almost out of control. The high winds that were buffering them were’nt helping things in the slightest. Spining around, Cameron managed to get his feet to touch the building. He planted himself, looked up and made up his mind.
“Hang on kid. This is going to suck.”
Pushing himself back, he started swinging away from the window. Up above, Melvin strained with the material. Since it was so tightly wrapped around him, no one else could get a grip, so they were physically holding on to Melvin as best they could.
What’s he doing?” Melvin screamed, struggling to keep his grip.
Down below, Cameron swung the boy out behind him as far as he could. When gravity started to take them back the other way, Cameron swung the boy as hard as he could. Watching, John realised what it was Cameron was trying to achieve and got ready to play his part. Lifting with all his might, Cameron swung the boy up towards the window. When he reached the top of the arc, john grabbed at the boy. Catching him around one wrist, John pulled backwards with all his might. John, the boy and his two support people all tumbled back into a heap on the floor. John had wrapped his arms around the boy, in order to try and cradle him from the fall. He now hugged the boy with all his might, before releasing him to his crying yet relived mother.
Many years later, John would win an award for one of his books. In his acceptance speech, he cited this exact moment as the point where he realised he could achieve just about anything, and started his first novel the very next day. He also revealed the identity of the Mysterious dedication that had been in the front of all his books. A simple line that read “For CK and the Brat.”
After John had grabbed the boy off of him, Cameron started to swing back the other way. His plan was to try and get back up enough momentum so he could grab ahold of the window ledge. After that, with a bit of help, he was sure he could make it back in. Cameron reached the peak of his arc and started to propel himself forward. He glanced up and saw Tory’s face staring down at him. She had finally managed to get to the window after john had fallen backwards. ‘I’m really going to have to make it up to her for scaring her so badly’ Cameron thought. But as he looked up at her, he happened to notice – pretty much at the same time she did – that the material had been rubbing on a sharpened piece of the window ledge. And that this final swing was had weakened it to the point where it was no starting to give way.
Melvin suddenly pitched backwards, landing on top of a couple of his anchor people. He wondered why, suddenly, all of the tension had gone out of the material. It even took him a few moments to grasp exactly what had happened after he noticed the frayed and torn end of the material in his hand. John saw Melvin fall back, and expectantly turned to see Cameron at the window.
But instead, he saw Tory start to scream as she saw the love of her life start to plummet towards the street.
Cameron was at full speed before he even had time to contemplate where the command had come from. It wasn’t so much a conscious thought, or even a word in his head for that matter. More a compulsion that had hit him with the ferocity of a icy gust of wind out of a still night. He suddenly just had to . . .
What? His direction was taking him straight at the annoying little brat near the window. The Kid! He had to get the kid away from the window! Why? Don’t ask! Just move! Cameron took another running step, then launched himself through the air towards the child. The movement was all instinct. There wasn’t enough time for any kind of thought processes. Just as Cameron left the ground, the boy’s final thud on the window jolted something free. Something clicked, something clanked. Something cracked and gave way, causing the entire glass plane to suddenly fall free from it’s mounting. A sudden, ferocious gust of wind, caused by the change in air pressure, helped suck the window out. The boy, who had been leaning all his weight on the window, tried desperately to regain his balance and change his momentum, but the rush of air exiting the window was too strong for him. He tumbled forward, losing his balance and fell, head first, out the window. Cameron, still in mid flight, stretched his arm out as far as possible. The boy was quickly disappearing over the ledge. Cameron reached out and grabbed. His hand just caught the boys ankle as he tumbled over the ledge.
Cameron's dramatic run and leap had the desired the effect. He got there just in time to catch the boy as he was about to take Olympic level high diving to a whole new level. Unfortunately, because his rescue attempt had been set in motion solely by instinct, he didn’t really have time to think about the possible consequences of his actions. For instance, he had managed to catch the boy successfully.
But who was going to catch him?
“Oh shit!”
With his free arm, Cameron desperately grabbed at something – anything – to try and slow himself down. He finally managed to grab a hold of the edge of the red covering material that was on top of the ledge the boy had been standing on. Cameron gripped on tightly, a small smile starting to form on his mouth. The smile faded immediately when a large ripping noise sounded as the material was tron from it’s fasteners.
“SHIIIIIIT!!!!!”
By this time, some of the other patrons had leapt into action. One, a particularly stocky builders/labourer named Melvin, had brought his two young kids up to the tower for the day, just to spend a little bit of family time together. He’d seen so little of them recently that he had worried that their opinion of him was starting to decline. After today, his kids opinion of their dad would never be in doubt again. Melvin dived forward and managed to grab hold of the tearing material. The other end of it had finally met a connection it couldn’t break. So Cameron and the kid’s plummet had been temporarily halted. Another tourist, a substitute teacher named John who had desires of being a writer, had gone running up to the window. After checking that Melvin had a solid grasp of the material, he leaned out the window. Hanging about 4 foot down from the window ledge was Cameron, clinging desperately onto the material with one hand, the small boy’s ankle with the other. The child wasn’t moving.
“Are you alight?” John yelled out, trying to get his voice heard above the rushing of the wind.
Despite the tense situation, Cameron’s response made him smile.
“I don’t like heights!”
“Is he OK?” John asked, gesturing towards the boy who was hanging like a rag doll in Cam's hand.
“He hit his head when we fell out. I think he’s knocked himself out”
“Just hang on! We’re going to try to pull you up!”
“I ain’t going anywhere!” John leaned back inside and turned to Melvin. Some of the other men in the crowd had run up and grabbed hold of the material, backing Melvin up.
"You got that?” John asked?
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Pushing through the crowd to the right, came Tory. She tried to get up to a window to see, but couldn’t get close enough. Off to the left, the boy’s mother was suddenly extremely concerned about her child’s welfare. Amazing how a simple thing like a potential plummet to your death can do that.
“Where’s my Baby! Where is he?” She screamed, hysterically. John had to almost physically stop her from diving out the window herself.
"He’s fine! The guy caught him”
“His names’ Cameron” Tory found herself calling from the sides. Almost completely distraught, she realised how silly it was that people be accurate with his name.
“Cameron then. You, big guy!”
“Melvin”
“ Melvin. You think you can start pulling them up?”
“No worries”
John leaned out the window. Cameron was still holding on for dear life.
“We’re going to start pulling you up!”
“Get me up close enough so I can pass you the kid!”
“We’ll get you both in!”
“GET THE KID FIRST!”
John turned back to Melvin
“GO!”
“HEAVE!!” Shouted Melvin. Him and the others dug in their feet and started pulling backwards. John turned back around and watched as Cameron slowly started to rise up.
“Somebody grab my belt!” John yelled, as he started to lean out of the window. Two others from the crowd had run forward and grabbed onto john. He leaned as far out the window as he dared. Below him, Cameron started to lift the boy across his body, towards John’s outstretched hand. Standing beside John, trying desperately to see out the window, Tory looked for any sight of her dangling boyfriend. So she was in just the right position to hear the material to her side rip.
“It’s ripping!” She screamed, desperately trying to find a hand hold on the deteriorating material. John quickly glanced at the tear, then turned back to Cameron.
“Hand me him! Quickly!”
Cameron lifted the boy up as high as he could. John stretched out, trying desperately to get ahold of the boy’s ankle. He almost had him, when a large chunk of material pulled free. Cameron dropped a few feet, stopping abruptly when the material pulled tight again.
Back inside, Tory and some others tried in vain to get a firm handhold onto the slipping material, but it pulled way tight. Tears were streaming down Tory’s face as she valiantly tried to stop it from slipping any further.
A sudden high pitched scream caught them all by surprise. The sudden jolt from the fall had snapped the boy out of his daze. He now seemed to realise the true nature of his predicament and panic had well and truly set in. Cameron held on tightly as the boy started to kick and thrash about.
“Calm down Kid! Stop kicking!” Unfortunately, the boy was far from being able to listen to reason. Inside, the boys mother was screaming from behind the crowd.
“They’re gonna fall! Pull them up, please! They’re gonna die!”
Melvin watched as the young mother fretted hysterically. He glanced over towards his own family, where his 7 year old son was watching with a look of both fear and awe on his small face. Glancing up again at the young mother, emoting in waves of fear and anger, a strange calm and a resolve came over Melvin.
“Not today!” he said, with a conviction that surprised even himself. Melvin wrapped the material around his arm, planted his feet and gritted his teeth. He looked over at John, who nodded at him.
“HEAVE!!” He yelled! They pulled as hard as they could, and Cameron started to lift again. This sudden movement however, sent the kid into a blind panic, and he began to thrash wildly.
“Stop Kicking!” Cameron screamed. But it was too late. The boys movements sent shudders through the length of the material, causing Tory’s end to shear off and slip. Now the full weight of both Cameron and the Boy was transferred to Melvin's side. The others who were helping lost there grip as Melvin was suddenly jerked forward. He stumbled forward a few steps before being able to right himself. He gripped tighter and strained backwards. John, almost falling out the window himself, grabbed ahold of the edge of the window and reached down. The sudden drop had started Cameron swinging, almost out of control. The high winds that were buffering them were’nt helping things in the slightest. Spining around, Cameron managed to get his feet to touch the building. He planted himself, looked up and made up his mind.
“Hang on kid. This is going to suck.”
Pushing himself back, he started swinging away from the window. Up above, Melvin strained with the material. Since it was so tightly wrapped around him, no one else could get a grip, so they were physically holding on to Melvin as best they could.
What’s he doing?” Melvin screamed, struggling to keep his grip.
Down below, Cameron swung the boy out behind him as far as he could. When gravity started to take them back the other way, Cameron swung the boy as hard as he could. Watching, John realised what it was Cameron was trying to achieve and got ready to play his part. Lifting with all his might, Cameron swung the boy up towards the window. When he reached the top of the arc, john grabbed at the boy. Catching him around one wrist, John pulled backwards with all his might. John, the boy and his two support people all tumbled back into a heap on the floor. John had wrapped his arms around the boy, in order to try and cradle him from the fall. He now hugged the boy with all his might, before releasing him to his crying yet relived mother.
Many years later, John would win an award for one of his books. In his acceptance speech, he cited this exact moment as the point where he realised he could achieve just about anything, and started his first novel the very next day. He also revealed the identity of the Mysterious dedication that had been in the front of all his books. A simple line that read “For CK and the Brat.”
After John had grabbed the boy off of him, Cameron started to swing back the other way. His plan was to try and get back up enough momentum so he could grab ahold of the window ledge. After that, with a bit of help, he was sure he could make it back in. Cameron reached the peak of his arc and started to propel himself forward. He glanced up and saw Tory’s face staring down at him. She had finally managed to get to the window after john had fallen backwards. ‘I’m really going to have to make it up to her for scaring her so badly’ Cameron thought. But as he looked up at her, he happened to notice – pretty much at the same time she did – that the material had been rubbing on a sharpened piece of the window ledge. And that this final swing was had weakened it to the point where it was no starting to give way.
Melvin suddenly pitched backwards, landing on top of a couple of his anchor people. He wondered why, suddenly, all of the tension had gone out of the material. It even took him a few moments to grasp exactly what had happened after he noticed the frayed and torn end of the material in his hand. John saw Melvin fall back, and expectantly turned to see Cameron at the window.
But instead, he saw Tory start to scream as she saw the love of her life start to plummet towards the street.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
2. The Observation Deck
“Oh, okay. I’m stepping back now.” Cameron said, as he took several steps back from the window. His girlfriend, Tory, turned to check on him.
“You all right?” she asked?
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just the vertigo kicking in.”
Tory smiled. “Why you wanted to come up here when heights do this to you is beyond me.”
“Because the view is incredible,” Cameron said as he sat down on a nearby bench. “As long as you don’t look down.”
“Wimp”
“I love you too”
Cameron leant back and took a deep breath. His little bout of dizziness was starting to pass. Clinical Vertigo, his doctor had called it. A combination of a few different elements, including low blood pressure, that resulted in his head spinning and his knees getting rubbery every time he was presented with a high place. It wasn’t that he didn’t like heights, or was even scared of them. His body, every now and then, just couldn’t take them.
He looked over at the beautiful girl standing in the window, enjoying the view. Tory. Her real name was Victoria, but he’d only ever know her by the shortened version of her name. At 5 foot 3 tall, she was quite the contrast to his 6 foot 4 frame. But they fit well together. Their friend Sharleen, who had introduced the pair, had gone as far as to say they complemented each other. Today was the first time in a while that they had the chance to spend any time with each other. With her studies, the erratic nature of his job, her living in towards the beach and him stuck out in the suburbs, finding any sort of quality time with each other was rare. That’s why he had suggested this trip to the top of the world. If he had her, Cameron thought, he wanted to make the most of it.
He caught himself smiling as he watched her. Tory had shown up in his life at a most unexpected time. He’d recently ended a long-term relationship before they met, which had embittered him against women a bit. Actually, it was the latest in a long run of bad relationships. 10 years of women in his life that had, for whatever reason, left him feeling less like a boyfriend, partner or friend and more like an expendable, replaceable pet. You know it’s not a good thing when your ex girlfriends are only ever referred to with such clever nick names as “the Ice Queen”, “The Parasite” and “The Succubus”. That’s why Tory such a surprise. To re-use and old Cliché, she was everything he never knew he always wanted. Funny, sweet, smart, creative, talented and extraordinarily opinionated. She called a spade a spade and didn’t care if others called it a shovel. She was inspiring and frustrating all in the one breath, which made Cameron feel more alert and alive than he had in years. Most importantly though, was that she liked Cameron for who he was, not what she thought he should be. Cameron had never met anyone like her before; much less a woman, and she continually surprised and delighted him. To say he adored her was a huge understatement. He loved Tory in a way he had never felt before. He loved her nearly as much . . .
. . . as he was starting to hate that kid.
Over to his left, running around like an unchained ferret in need of an overdose of Ridilin, was a six or seven year old boy. He had just somehow managed to knock over an information display, sending brochures and pamphlets everywhere, and was now evading capture at the hands of some very annoyed security guards. The boy’s parents, far off to the side, had either, through sheer necessity, developed a seeming deaf and blindness to their child’s activities, or plain old didn’t give a damn. Looking at them, Cameron guessed the latter. They stood stationary, paying no attention, as their little hell spawn started to climb up onto the ledge that separated the viewing windows from the floor. Watching the child, he was reminded of a similar incident that had happened years ago.
When he was around 15, 16 years old, Cameron was helping out his mother with the weekly grocery shopping. A young boy – who could have been the same kid, if it hadn’t been 15 or so years ago – was running wildly through the isles. About the only attempt at discipline his young mother had attempted was an occasional “Stop that” or – much to Cameron’s amusement – “Is this acceptable behaviour?” It had proved all too much when the small boy, for no apparent reason, had kicked Cameron in the shin. Grabbing the boy, he marched up to the young mother, told her what had happened and asked her to control her child. Her response still seemed incredulous to Cameron, even to this day.
“My son has a free upbringing. We want him to learn through experience, not punishment.”
Cameron had stared at the women in disbelief for a moment. Then, reaching into the woman’s shopping trolley, he removed a tub of yogurt. Removing the lid, he turned to the boy, and proceeded to dump the entire contents on the child’s head. Upon facing the young mother again, he smiled sweetly and stated, very simply and directly:
“I had a free upbringing as well”
Cameron was snapped out of his brief moment of nostalgia by the current calamity before him, who was now banging on the window and calling out insults to the people below.
Where was a tub of yogurt when you needed one?
Tory sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around one of his.
“Let it go”
“What?”
“I can see that look on your face. Whatever you’re planning, forget about it.”
“It’s just . . . rude”
“I know”
Tory grabbed Cameron’s hand and held it. Looking at him, she realised that his mind was becoming more and more set on a course of action. Even though they hadn’t been together for very long, she knew him well enough to know that when he got like this, there really wasn’t a lot she could do to dissuade him. Cameron took a deep breath in and made a small groaning sound under his breath as he let it out. He was fighting it for her sake, she realised. As much as she appreciated it, she knew it wasn’t going to last. Cameron had a pretty developed sense of right and wrong. Whenever something came up that wasn’t right, or fair as he believed it, it got to him. And it wasn’t the fact that the kid was annoying that was making him this way. That’s what kids do, after all. What was getting under her boyfriends skin was that the parents didn’t have enough respect or courtesy to realise the child’s antics were annoying the other people around them. That was Cameron’s gripe.
The boy thudded his hands on the glass again. The noise of it made Cameron flinch slightly.
“Hey! Stupid People!” He cried out, banging on the glass again.
Cameron looked over at the boy’s parents. His mother briefly glanced at the child and, maybe deciding that he wasn’t getting into enough trouble to be worth bothering about, maybe just not caring what he got up to, returned to her conversation. The woman seemed completely oblivious to the filthy looks her son’s antics were earning her.
THOOM went the glass as the bot thudded on it again. Cameron took a very deep breath in.
‘Here we go’, thought Tory. THOOM!
“Wait here a second, Sweety” Cameron said, rising to his feet.
Tory Knew it was pointless to stop him, but she tried anyway.
“Cam!”
“I’m just going to get him away from the window. Back in a sec.”
Tory rested her head in her hand and watched him start to walk towards the child. He wouldn’t hurt the kid. She at least knew that much. Maybe put the fear of God into him, but he’d never hurt him. Or anyone for that matter. Cam spoke big and acted all tough, but if he ever truly hurt anyone, either physically or emotionally, he’d be absolutely devastated. The guy was a big softy at heart. The bot had no more to fear from Cameron than he did Santa Claus.
Which is why it struck her as such a surprise when Cameron broke into a sprint and took a flying leap towards the kid.
“You all right?” she asked?
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just the vertigo kicking in.”
Tory smiled. “Why you wanted to come up here when heights do this to you is beyond me.”
“Because the view is incredible,” Cameron said as he sat down on a nearby bench. “As long as you don’t look down.”
“Wimp”
“I love you too”
Cameron leant back and took a deep breath. His little bout of dizziness was starting to pass. Clinical Vertigo, his doctor had called it. A combination of a few different elements, including low blood pressure, that resulted in his head spinning and his knees getting rubbery every time he was presented with a high place. It wasn’t that he didn’t like heights, or was even scared of them. His body, every now and then, just couldn’t take them.
He looked over at the beautiful girl standing in the window, enjoying the view. Tory. Her real name was Victoria, but he’d only ever know her by the shortened version of her name. At 5 foot 3 tall, she was quite the contrast to his 6 foot 4 frame. But they fit well together. Their friend Sharleen, who had introduced the pair, had gone as far as to say they complemented each other. Today was the first time in a while that they had the chance to spend any time with each other. With her studies, the erratic nature of his job, her living in towards the beach and him stuck out in the suburbs, finding any sort of quality time with each other was rare. That’s why he had suggested this trip to the top of the world. If he had her, Cameron thought, he wanted to make the most of it.
He caught himself smiling as he watched her. Tory had shown up in his life at a most unexpected time. He’d recently ended a long-term relationship before they met, which had embittered him against women a bit. Actually, it was the latest in a long run of bad relationships. 10 years of women in his life that had, for whatever reason, left him feeling less like a boyfriend, partner or friend and more like an expendable, replaceable pet. You know it’s not a good thing when your ex girlfriends are only ever referred to with such clever nick names as “the Ice Queen”, “The Parasite” and “The Succubus”. That’s why Tory such a surprise. To re-use and old Cliché, she was everything he never knew he always wanted. Funny, sweet, smart, creative, talented and extraordinarily opinionated. She called a spade a spade and didn’t care if others called it a shovel. She was inspiring and frustrating all in the one breath, which made Cameron feel more alert and alive than he had in years. Most importantly though, was that she liked Cameron for who he was, not what she thought he should be. Cameron had never met anyone like her before; much less a woman, and she continually surprised and delighted him. To say he adored her was a huge understatement. He loved Tory in a way he had never felt before. He loved her nearly as much . . .
. . . as he was starting to hate that kid.
Over to his left, running around like an unchained ferret in need of an overdose of Ridilin, was a six or seven year old boy. He had just somehow managed to knock over an information display, sending brochures and pamphlets everywhere, and was now evading capture at the hands of some very annoyed security guards. The boy’s parents, far off to the side, had either, through sheer necessity, developed a seeming deaf and blindness to their child’s activities, or plain old didn’t give a damn. Looking at them, Cameron guessed the latter. They stood stationary, paying no attention, as their little hell spawn started to climb up onto the ledge that separated the viewing windows from the floor. Watching the child, he was reminded of a similar incident that had happened years ago.
When he was around 15, 16 years old, Cameron was helping out his mother with the weekly grocery shopping. A young boy – who could have been the same kid, if it hadn’t been 15 or so years ago – was running wildly through the isles. About the only attempt at discipline his young mother had attempted was an occasional “Stop that” or – much to Cameron’s amusement – “Is this acceptable behaviour?” It had proved all too much when the small boy, for no apparent reason, had kicked Cameron in the shin. Grabbing the boy, he marched up to the young mother, told her what had happened and asked her to control her child. Her response still seemed incredulous to Cameron, even to this day.
“My son has a free upbringing. We want him to learn through experience, not punishment.”
Cameron had stared at the women in disbelief for a moment. Then, reaching into the woman’s shopping trolley, he removed a tub of yogurt. Removing the lid, he turned to the boy, and proceeded to dump the entire contents on the child’s head. Upon facing the young mother again, he smiled sweetly and stated, very simply and directly:
“I had a free upbringing as well”
Cameron was snapped out of his brief moment of nostalgia by the current calamity before him, who was now banging on the window and calling out insults to the people below.
Where was a tub of yogurt when you needed one?
Tory sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around one of his.
“Let it go”
“What?”
“I can see that look on your face. Whatever you’re planning, forget about it.”
“It’s just . . . rude”
“I know”
Tory grabbed Cameron’s hand and held it. Looking at him, she realised that his mind was becoming more and more set on a course of action. Even though they hadn’t been together for very long, she knew him well enough to know that when he got like this, there really wasn’t a lot she could do to dissuade him. Cameron took a deep breath in and made a small groaning sound under his breath as he let it out. He was fighting it for her sake, she realised. As much as she appreciated it, she knew it wasn’t going to last. Cameron had a pretty developed sense of right and wrong. Whenever something came up that wasn’t right, or fair as he believed it, it got to him. And it wasn’t the fact that the kid was annoying that was making him this way. That’s what kids do, after all. What was getting under her boyfriends skin was that the parents didn’t have enough respect or courtesy to realise the child’s antics were annoying the other people around them. That was Cameron’s gripe.
The boy thudded his hands on the glass again. The noise of it made Cameron flinch slightly.
“Hey! Stupid People!” He cried out, banging on the glass again.
Cameron looked over at the boy’s parents. His mother briefly glanced at the child and, maybe deciding that he wasn’t getting into enough trouble to be worth bothering about, maybe just not caring what he got up to, returned to her conversation. The woman seemed completely oblivious to the filthy looks her son’s antics were earning her.
THOOM went the glass as the bot thudded on it again. Cameron took a very deep breath in.
‘Here we go’, thought Tory. THOOM!
“Wait here a second, Sweety” Cameron said, rising to his feet.
Tory Knew it was pointless to stop him, but she tried anyway.
“Cam!”
“I’m just going to get him away from the window. Back in a sec.”
Tory rested her head in her hand and watched him start to walk towards the child. He wouldn’t hurt the kid. She at least knew that much. Maybe put the fear of God into him, but he’d never hurt him. Or anyone for that matter. Cam spoke big and acted all tough, but if he ever truly hurt anyone, either physically or emotionally, he’d be absolutely devastated. The guy was a big softy at heart. The bot had no more to fear from Cameron than he did Santa Claus.
Which is why it struck her as such a surprise when Cameron broke into a sprint and took a flying leap towards the kid.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
1. The begining of The Begining
“Why am I here?”
This wasn’t the first time Dan Pride had asked himself this question. Over the last couple of hours, as he sat slightly patiently in the Pitt street mall in Sydney, the thought had come into his head more than once.
Dan had been living in Sydney for about the last twenty years. He liked the place. Not as stressful as London, not as dirty as New York. It was a big city that didn’t feel like a big city. Dan’s work had taken him over half of the planet. His other pursuits had taken him to the other half. He’d lived, or stayed, in most of the major cities in the us and Europe, lived in hotels from Birmingham to Budapest. He’d camped out, stayed over, shacked up, settled down and squatted in more places than the average Street directory had names for. So his slightly biased opinions about his home town at least had a level of research behind them.
Leaning back into the shady spot he had picked out for himself, Dan looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful sunny day in Sydney. 23 degrees and slight breeze. He took a brief slug from the drink he had with him as he watched all of the busy people go by. He once again marvelled at the Human race’s ability to keep itself busy. One young man , wearing a blue suit and tie, raced past Dan, talking heatedly into the mobile phone plastered to his ear. A look of stress was penetrated deep into his brow, and his cheeks were flushed with both exhaustion and anger. Dan watched him go, smiling.
“Calm down, sunshine,” he thought. “The world will keep spinning.”
Dan took another drink from his bottle. It made him laugh how much energy we wasted, worrying about such little things. And, although he could remember a point in his life where he too used to have those concerns, he honestly could not remember how it felt. Too many events, to much experience in his life had taught him that the day to day routines that seem to monopolise the lives of the people around him, are the events that we should treasure the most. If they had seen what he had seen. . .
He stopped himself before he started thinking about it. Those days were over. It was his choice, his decision. And although he had enjoyed the life, enjoyed a lot of the things he had accomplished, it had gotten to a point where it was too much. So he got out. Simple as that. To tell the truth, he didn’t even think about it that much any more. Today was a rarity. Actually, today was strange for several reasons. Him sitting here, waiting for - well, whatever it was was the strangest.
“Why am I here?”
This question to himself earlier wasn’t just a random thought. He honestly didn’t know. After waking up this morning, he found himself almost on auto-pilot. He had planned to try and break the back of that new novel he was working on. But instead, he found himself putting on his walking shoes, heading outside and catching the next train into the city. When he arrived in town, the same compulsion had lead him here, to Pitt street, where he had spent the good part of the day. Something told him that he needed to be here, today. So here was where he waited.
That was the problem with abstract hunches. They were soft on details.
Dan sighed. Leaning back, he looked up at the huge tower above him. Sydney’s Centerpoint was one of the most unique buildings in the city’s skyline. The building consisted of a main pylon with a series of observation decks at the top. Huge metal cables weaved from the ground to the bottom of the observation levels. On top was a large, white metal pylon pointing up at the sky. And, unbeknown to most, right at the top, in bright red permanent marker, is written three words.
MM was here.
Dan smiled to himself. All the things he could have done, and he chose that. The memory made him smile, but then made him frown. Where is this bout of nostalgia coming from, he wondered. Dan hadn’t thought about this – any of this – in years. Now all the old memories were flooding back in an unstoppable tide. Names he hadn’t thought of, faces he’d forgotten, Friends, foes and events that he had done his best to put behind him washed over him. A feeling of loss that almost made him cry had accompanied the memories. Why? He thought. Why now?
And that’s when he heard the scream.
This wasn’t the first time Dan Pride had asked himself this question. Over the last couple of hours, as he sat slightly patiently in the Pitt street mall in Sydney, the thought had come into his head more than once.
Dan had been living in Sydney for about the last twenty years. He liked the place. Not as stressful as London, not as dirty as New York. It was a big city that didn’t feel like a big city. Dan’s work had taken him over half of the planet. His other pursuits had taken him to the other half. He’d lived, or stayed, in most of the major cities in the us and Europe, lived in hotels from Birmingham to Budapest. He’d camped out, stayed over, shacked up, settled down and squatted in more places than the average Street directory had names for. So his slightly biased opinions about his home town at least had a level of research behind them.
Leaning back into the shady spot he had picked out for himself, Dan looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful sunny day in Sydney. 23 degrees and slight breeze. He took a brief slug from the drink he had with him as he watched all of the busy people go by. He once again marvelled at the Human race’s ability to keep itself busy. One young man , wearing a blue suit and tie, raced past Dan, talking heatedly into the mobile phone plastered to his ear. A look of stress was penetrated deep into his brow, and his cheeks were flushed with both exhaustion and anger. Dan watched him go, smiling.
“Calm down, sunshine,” he thought. “The world will keep spinning.”
Dan took another drink from his bottle. It made him laugh how much energy we wasted, worrying about such little things. And, although he could remember a point in his life where he too used to have those concerns, he honestly could not remember how it felt. Too many events, to much experience in his life had taught him that the day to day routines that seem to monopolise the lives of the people around him, are the events that we should treasure the most. If they had seen what he had seen. . .
He stopped himself before he started thinking about it. Those days were over. It was his choice, his decision. And although he had enjoyed the life, enjoyed a lot of the things he had accomplished, it had gotten to a point where it was too much. So he got out. Simple as that. To tell the truth, he didn’t even think about it that much any more. Today was a rarity. Actually, today was strange for several reasons. Him sitting here, waiting for - well, whatever it was was the strangest.
“Why am I here?”
This question to himself earlier wasn’t just a random thought. He honestly didn’t know. After waking up this morning, he found himself almost on auto-pilot. He had planned to try and break the back of that new novel he was working on. But instead, he found himself putting on his walking shoes, heading outside and catching the next train into the city. When he arrived in town, the same compulsion had lead him here, to Pitt street, where he had spent the good part of the day. Something told him that he needed to be here, today. So here was where he waited.
That was the problem with abstract hunches. They were soft on details.
Dan sighed. Leaning back, he looked up at the huge tower above him. Sydney’s Centerpoint was one of the most unique buildings in the city’s skyline. The building consisted of a main pylon with a series of observation decks at the top. Huge metal cables weaved from the ground to the bottom of the observation levels. On top was a large, white metal pylon pointing up at the sky. And, unbeknown to most, right at the top, in bright red permanent marker, is written three words.
MM was here.
Dan smiled to himself. All the things he could have done, and he chose that. The memory made him smile, but then made him frown. Where is this bout of nostalgia coming from, he wondered. Dan hadn’t thought about this – any of this – in years. Now all the old memories were flooding back in an unstoppable tide. Names he hadn’t thought of, faces he’d forgotten, Friends, foes and events that he had done his best to put behind him washed over him. A feeling of loss that almost made him cry had accompanied the memories. Why? He thought. Why now?
And that’s when he heard the scream.
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