Song of the Death Defyer

The life of a death defier is a traditional one. Like his father before him he learned his craft. But for a trade, it was fun as a child, because in the early days when he started there were always a few buddies around, excited to watch him practice. And by the time he was a teenager he was drawing a home crowd thrilled at every performance. He had something, they thought, maybe even better than his father, and was soon hailed as the brave hometown hero. The joy of the crowd was his reward for his performances, which were rare and took a lot of courage, for though there was skill, it was still very much a risk of life over death.

That risk could surely be proven by the many before him that had died or suffered career ending injuries. And so to honor them and to continue his brave march forward, he kept increasing the number of stories he would jump from, for he was a leaper, standing on the roof and jumping, even sailing down to the ground. It was all in the diffusion of energy out of his body at impact, first in the ankles and knees, how you “hit” the landing. As the energy worked up and out of his body, it has to be said this was a level of energy that was enough to kill a normal person. Such a skill took years to master. 

And then there was the satisfying coda, the punch line waited for, the delicious desert after the main meal. At the end of a majestic landing, everyone waited for what started as a little flutter from his mouth and fingertips held upwardly and eventually crescendo’d as the last vestiges of lethal energy flowed out in pure sound waves across a spectrum and expressed his experience sailing and landing into an otherworldly sound more like a whale than a human and came to be known as the death defyer’s song. Each leaper and even each jump was different, expressing the whole experience uniquely.

And though it took years, master it he did. Maybe he was born with good DNA or maybe coming from a long line of death defiers in his village, the one’s who’d managed to live long enough to procreate, he’d actually benefited from an evolution of better tendons and muscles and bones as well as the mental skills and capacity to control fear that gave him an edge. Death defiers never got depressed, for they could channel their fears. 

With such local renown, it wasn’t long before agents came scouting and he was signed to a long term contract to perform in the big city from a new and very tall building, definitely more than the five stories that was his current highest leap. So off he went, after at least three going away parties given by his family, his friends and his fellows in the local guild. 

The big city was fascinating. So much activity. A place of excellence because each of the best of their field had come there. When he first saw the building, you might think he had a moment of fear at how many stories taller it was than he’d ever performed before. But no, he actually felt a thrill of the challenge. He couldn’t have even tried this in his hometown, for no buildings were this tall, he’d been limited by circumstance. But here in the big city, everything was possible and a man could further his skills to their mastery. 

Plus, for the first time in his life, except for some birthday parties and one retirement celebration, he was to be paid for his art. The performers guild here was fantastic, there were so many others plying their trade and they looked out for each other and had a home for older retirees. 

For his inaugural leap, the company put on a big promotional event, they wanted to welcome him with a bang, and maximize their investment of course. So with balloons and ribbons and a smallish but still decent sized band, the death defying jumper was introduced and began his long ascent to the top via the outer metal steps they’d built so everyone could see him go up, increasing the drama and tension. 

As he rose, he thought, Wow I’m going to get into great shape doing this every hour all day long. I wonder if it will always draw such crowds? He realized a lifetime of passion had led him to this day and when he looked down for the first time, he felt as if the energy of the crowd would even lift him up to fly rather than fall. Well, maybe that’s going a little too far, but at least they would slow his descent and cushion his landing. 

And so with great fanfare, wearing his super-hero-esque costume, with the company logo stamped on the cape, off he leapt, artfully soaring downward every part of his body ready to work in unison upon impact to channel all that energy through and out, and to do so with beauty. As all hoped, even if they feared, he hit the landing perfectly, and to great applause for a lovely song heard by some for the first time, he looked out and felt tremendous satisfaction that he could handle a building this tall. All his employers sighed a sigh of relief, yes, he came as advertised, he could do it and he would draw many to their project. Success was in the air. 

And he didn’t even have to do it a second time that day, there were celebrations welcoming him and a special dinner, the local press of course covered everything and much hay was made. 

He also knew it was necessary, and had been written into the contract, that he needed time for his body to get used to this height. He needed to heal a bit each time and build up his strength. So he rested for two days before beginning his regular schedule which slowly ramped up the performances in frequency as his body grew stronger. And during this time, as his fame grew, the crowds ballooned as many sent letters in the post to their friends with the schedule and plans to come together. 

And so it went for the first months, an increasing number of performances, an ebb and flow of crowds, with more on the flow than the ebb. 

In fact, so successful was his presence to the building, that other merchants began to increase their recruitment of other types of performers. This had always been their culture, but now it went to a new level. And before long it was a bit of a joyous circus around him as street jugglers and spin in the air’ers, and fall off smaller buildings but do a flip on the way down’ers (with maybe a fake little fascimile of a leapers song at the end for humorous effect), and funny clowns doing silly gags all congregated in the square on the little triangular park in the middle that all their buildings surrounded. No one ever explained why it was called a square when it was very clearly a triangle, but that added to the charm. 

The guild, stocked to the brim with all these new members was very happy, and it wasn’t long before they recognized his role in their prosperity and elected him president. And because his performing skill required the very definition of courage, a defiance of death itself, he had a bit of an edge that they all respected, kind of like the head lion that was a little stronger than the rest of the pride, and this was made even more attractive since he was such a gentle and down to earth guy. And the song, well that was like a lion’s roar, very distinctive and special in the animal kingdom. And since “down to earth” was actually his talent, that fit very well. And in particular, for the few who’d actually heard other leapers songs, this leapers song was so appealing and kind of welcoming almost, which made him more approachable.

And so life was good, and now that he was jumping “every hour at the top of the hour from the top of the building”, as the posters liked to say, he settled into the long rhythmic march of time. His building became very profitable, and its owners expanded to other investments. The local circus on the square atmosphere continued on and settled into a kind of normalcy. People still came, but the excitement of the new slowly wore off and rather than crowds it was more like a steady stream of passerby’s. And this was Ok for him, he had fallen into a steady rhythm, his body well strengthened to handle the impacts, and he spent time decorating his home and having guild members over for dinners. And time marched on. 

Besides the performers of course there were the barkers who tried to draw the crowds and there were the many small stands selling souvenirs or food, or fun trinkets the children loved. So there was a good steady number of people always there, and this helped the festive atmosphere to be maintained even if the crowds attending his jumps were less. 

So he kept doing his amazing leaps, until one day as he landed and recovered, a parent and a small child were engaged with each other and only looked up after they’d heard some sound, after the whole landing! They hadn’t even watched him jump. And just beyond was a gaggle of teen girls giggling and teasing each other as they crossed the street oblivious to the death defying performance he had just given. They didn’t even see me? He couldn’t believe it, this had never happened. He was always the center of attention at the top of each hour as he flew down from the heavens, as normal people could never do. 

The song unheard…or worse, just some background noise.

In the beginning this was rare, but it began to happen with increasing frequency as the stream of onlookers ebbed more than it flowed. The joie de vivre of the circus had kind of flattened into a humming commercial production, done more for the money than for the passion. They’d become Las Vegas, a daily party that never ends…and when it’s every day it’s not that special anymore. He got to where he wouldn’t even look down before he jumped, it wasn’t good for his mental preparation, but as he got up from his “hit” stance, the song fully discharged and his brain cleared from the momentary fuzziness of impact he would look up a lonely leaper and then cast his eyes down. The days of always being welcomed with the warm buzz of applause and the cheers of the crowd had been replaced by the sound of maybe one or two people clapping or anonymously yelling “yeah” from a distance, sweet in its individuality but sore in its lack of glory. 

Time marched on, and he had bills to pay and guild responsibilities so he had to march on too. The sidewalks became more splotched with old pieces of gum and the streets less clean and some less than stellar businesses had opened drawing a less than stellar clientele. The circus became more of a circus, and not the good kind. And he himself was aging and really feeling it in his bones, but by now he was a part owner of the building and still the star and defacto mayor of the triangle, so he had to soldier on, but wisely he slowly decreased the number of jumps per day. 

He even stopped looking up for a response, sometimes not even one person had watched and no clap or shouts rang out. And in this glum state of affairs the show that must go on carried on.  

Into this stale fetid air one day a fresh new breeze blew in. A flower shop opened replacing one of the less stellar blights on the square’s collective character. And the next day, as he was rising in recovery from his jump, the shop owner, a kind person, first giggled at his flutter and then was eyes wide open at his song. Staring into his eyes with amazement she gave him a small bouquet and said “Wow, that was amazing, especially the last part, how did you do that”? He smiled and a friendship was born. 

Always ready with a clap every hour on the hour and a little woo hoo! The death defyer would look over and smile at his friend across the way. Then they would get lunch together while he learned all about flowers which he found he had a real knack for but it took a friend to open his soul to it.

Soon it was time for one of his regular visits to his home village, where he had been the home town hero for so many years, encouraging all their dreams of a performance career, and so he brought his florist friend with him. There in the village she learned of his past and of the wonderful traditional culture of performers that had developed there and which still blossomed and grew like the flowers in her shop. 

And a friendship love grew between them as each introduced their passions to the other. As he described how he was able to redirect the energy of impact all through his body so that it wasn’t too strong in any one area, the florist felt her mind open up to how her flowers developed and ways they might be helped to direct their energy better. Maybe a good light shake now and then, a little flutter, like the breeze does naturally.

The lover of flowers couldn’t help but feel a sadness that soon became a growing concern about the non event the jumpers’ performances had become. Standing atop the building and looking down, the grand dismount and the soaring downward gloriously and the landing with such majesty and skill, and all with no one looking and just another notch on the daily log of jumps. How might this slowly erode him? She knew of his ability to flow his energy well, but there was another energy, that of the triangle called a square and its energy had drooped like a wilting plant or a sad clown. And of course many had to live there every day so it affected them all. 

So she concocted a plan to gain more flow, to increase the audience for the death defyer so more could hear his song…she quietly went around and spoke with all the other vendors and business people in the square to make sure they all paid attention and clapped every hour top of the hour…And why? Because it’s mutually beneficial to all our businesses, as well as being good to our mayor. She taught them how to pay attention to the song and appreciate how it varied every time, and they all agreed after seeing the wisdom. 

And when customers came to the flower shop there was an extra offer for them…how would you like to get an extra few flowers for free? Then stay a bit longer and when the defiant jumper lands, clap and shout and give him these flowers I’ve prepared like a hero arrived home, and believe me the song will be an even greater reward than the extra flowers. So she gave a few flowers for them and a few for him and they did. 

First, it was a little girl, holding one big Magnolia. How she lifted his heart when she ran up and squealed with delight, gave him the flower and a kiss on the cheek. Next hour, a boy with his father and then his father, the grandfather, in a wheel chair remarking with experience on the quality of the song. And if there wasn’t someone giving him a flower, then it was a chorus of claps from across the quad…this was all the reward he had ever wanted, and it breathed new life into everything he did. 

And what do you know, it was like a seed planted that grows into a beautiful garden, one fruitful plant which then propagates the rest. This artificial little stimulus concocted by his florist friend not only breathed new life into his performances, it made people curious and began to draw natural crowds again, a new generation thrilled to see his death defying leaps from the roof to the ground in the triangle called a square. 

Time continued to march on, as it does and it was clear his bodies ability to redirect the punishing impacts was coming to an end, and the wealthy and happy death defyer, once again on the top of his game, scheduled his last grand leap, which had already been only once a day for some time, with the rarity stimulating the crowds. 

And so festooned with flowers that slowly released as he sailed downwards through the air, taking in the crowd as he soared, seeing a reel of memories in his mind of his long career, the ground approached and he nailed his last landing amidst a shower of petals still falling down upon him from above.

But no flutter and no song.

He stepped to the front before one of the greatest crowds ever assembled in that city. He spoke of why he’d chosen to use flowers and everyone could smell the fragrance in the air and marveled to hear the story of his dear flower loving friend who’d seeded the triangle square and all its people with life and thriving by her simple act of care. By loving one she’d given to the well being of all. And as he reached the peak of his story, suddenly from deep within a low rumble rose and shook his entire body as it ran the gamut of notes ever higher up the scale, his lips fluttering first before the full sound emerged and expanded from an oboe to a flute and then the most beautiful sonorous chord of multiple sounds blew out of his mouth held high in a melody with his finger tips vibrating, reaching up to the sky, as if a lifetime of small moments of energy that had slowly built up inside was being cathartically released with a musical complexity to match the life lived and the crowd gasped as the great leaper fell to the ground defiant no more.

The End.