Николас Спаркс - The Choice

He paused, looking directly at her.

“But I’m different now than I was then. Just like I was different at the end of the trip than I’d been at the beginning. And I’ll be different tomorrow than I am today. And what that means is that I can never replicate that trip. Even if I went to the same places and met the same people, it wouldn’t be the same. My experience wouldn’t be the same. To me, that’s what traveling should be about. Meeting people, learning to not only appreciate a different culture, but really enjoy it like a local, following whatever impulse strikes you. So how could I recommend a trip to someone else, if I don’t even know what to expect? My advice would be to make a list of places on some index cards, shuffle them, and pick any five at random. Then just . . . go and see what happens. If you have the right mind-set, it doesn’t matter where you end up or how much money you brought. It’ll be something you’ll remember forever.”

Gabby was silent as she digested this. “Wow,” she finally said.

“What?”

“You make it sound so . . . romantic.”

In the ensuing quiet, Stephanie began to slow the boat and Travis sat up straighter. When his sister glanced at him, he nodded and stood up. Stephanie lowered the throttle, allowing the boat to slow even further.

“We’re ready,” he said, and moved to a storage box. Pulling out the parachute, he asked, “Are you up for a new experience?”

Gabby swallowed. “I can’t wait.”

Nine

Once the parachute was filled and harnesses strapped on, Joe and Megan lifted off first, followed by Allison and Laird, then Matt and Liz. One by one, the couples sat on the platform and were lifted into the air, the tow rope unwinding until they were a hundred feet up. From Gabby’s spot on the boat, they looked small and inconsequential as they drifted over the water. Travis, who’d taken the wheel from Stephanie, kept the boat at a steady speed, making large, wide turns, then finally brought the boat to a gradual halt, allowing the riders to drift toward the sea. Just as their feet grazed the water, he’d gun the throttle, and the chute would rush skyward like a kite being pulled by a boy running in the park.

Everyone was chattering as they reached the platform, talking about the fish or dolphins they’d seen, but Gabby nonetheless felt herself growing nervous as her turn approached. Stephanie, splayed out in her bikini, was working on her tan and nursing a beer in the front of the boat. She raised the beer in salute.

“Here’s getting to know you, kid.”

Travis tossed aside his baseball cap. “C’mon,” he said to Gabby, “I’ll help you with your harness.”

After stepping off the platform, Liz handed over the life preserver.

“It’s so much fun,” she said. “You’re going to love it.”

Travis led Gabby to the platform. After hopping up, he bent over, offering a hand. She could feel the warmth in it as he helped her up. The harness lay crumpled, and he pointed toward two open loops.

“Step in those and pull it up. I’ll tighten it for you.”

She held her body steady against the tugs of the canvas straps. “That’s it?”

“Almost. When you sit on the platform, keep the wide strap under your thighs. You don’t want it under your . . . backside, because that doesn’t support your weight as well. And you might want to take off your shirt, unless you don’t mind getting it wet.”

She slipped off her shirt, trying not to feel nervous.

If Travis noticed her self-consciousness, he gave no sign. Instead, he hooked up the straps of her harness to the bar, then his own, then motioned for her to sit.

“It’s under your thighs, right?” Travis asked. When she nodded, he smiled. “Just relax and enjoy, okay?”

A second later, Joe pushed the throttle, the chute filled, and Gabby and Travis were lifted from the deck. In the boat, she felt everyone’s eyes on them as they rose diagonally toward the sky. Gabby gripped the canvas straps so hard that her knuckles turned white while the boat grew smaller. In time, the tow rope to the boat captured her attention like a hypnotic decoy. It quickly felt as if she were a whole lot higher than anyone else had been, and she was about to say something when she felt Travis touch her shoulder.

“Look over there!” he said, pointing. “There’s a ray! Can you see it?”

She saw it, black and sleek, moving beneath the surface like a slow-motion butterfly.

“And a pod of dolphins! Over there! Near the banks!”

As she marveled at the sight, her nervousness started to subside. Instead, she began to soak in the view of everything below—the town, the families sprawled on the beaches, the boats, the water. As she relaxed, she found herself thinking that she could probably spend an hour up here without ever growing tired of it. It was extraordinary to drift along at this elevation, coasting effortlessly on a wind current, as if she were a bird. Despite the heat, the breeze kept her cool, and as she rocked her feet back and forth, she felt the harness sway.

“Are you willing to be dipped?” he asked. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Let’s do it,” she agreed. To her ears, her voice sounded strangely confident.

Travis engaged Joe in a quick series of hand signals, and beneath her, the whine of the boat suddenly diminished. The parachute began to descend. Staring at the rapidly approaching water, she scanned the surface to make sure nothing was lurking below.

The parachute dipped lower and lower, and though she lifted her legs, she felt cold water splash on her lower body. Just when she thought she was going to have to start treading water, the boat accelerated and they shot skyward again. Gabby felt adrenaline surge through her body and didn’t bother trying to hide her grin.

Travis nudged her. “See? It wasn’t bad at all.”

“Can we do that again?” she asked.

Travis and Gabby rode for another quarter hour, dipping two or three more times; once they were brought back to the boat, each couple rode once more. By then, the sun was high in the sky and the kids were getting fussy. Travis steered the boat toward the cove at Cape Lookout. The water grew shallow, and Travis stopped the boat; Joe tossed the anchor overboard, removed his shirt, and followed the anchor into the water. The water was waist-deep, and with practiced ease, Matt handed him a cooler. Matt took off his shirt and jumped in; Joe handed him a cooler, then followed him into the water while Travis took his place. When Travis jumped in, he carried a small, portable grill and bag of charcoal briquettes. Simultaneously, the mothers hopped in the water and took hold of the kids. In minutes, only Stephanie and Gabby remained on board. Gabby stood in the back of the boat, thinking she should have helped, while Stephanie, seemingly oblivious to the commotion, lay sprawled on the seats at the front of the boat, continuing to collect the sun.

“I’m on vacation, so I feel no need to volunteer my services,” Stephanie announced, her body as still as the boat itself. “And they’re so good at it, I feel no guilt about being a slacker.”

“You’re not a slacker.”

“Of course I am. Everyone should be a slacker now and then. As Confucius once said, ‘He who does nothing is the one who does nothing.’”

Gabby pondered the words, then furrowed her brow. “Did Confucius really say that?”

Sunglasses in place, Stephanie managed the tiniest of shrugs. “No, but who cares? The point is, they had it handled, and most likely they found some sort of self-satisfaction in their industriousness. Who am I to deprive them of that?”

Gabby put her hands on her hips. “Or maybe you just wanted to be lazy.”

Stephanie grinned. “Like Jesus said, ‘Blessed are the lazy who lie in boats, for they shall inherit a suntan.’”