Free Jumping by Jane Peranteau Page B

rolling over to a stop, against a side wall. I had landed in a three-sided rock room. It took me a minute to realize I'd actually come to a stop—the sense of falling stayed with me internally for a minute, as my organs settled into an upright orientation. I wanted to hold onto ‘stop’ for a while, to believe in the ultimate goal of gravity again, which isn't falling but landing, as Newton's apple did. I felt intensely awake and aware, wondering what would happen next, knowing I had been stopped for a reason.
    I looked up just as a young man, out of breath, wearing what looked like a white space suit, without helmet, loomed into view over me. He had a great shock of kinky hair that was reddish in color, skin with the hue and sheen of dark, well-oiled walnut, and eyes that glowed gold. He had small gold hoops in his nose and ears, and they glowed, too. He greeted me enthusiastically, infectiously, reaching down to take my hands and pull me to my feet.
    I gave him my hands without thinking, as I stared into his face. It's a beautiful, happy, open face, with a wonderfully wide smile. He knows me—really knows me—and is genuinely happy to see me. I notice I can see him in the dimness and think it's because he's radiating a gentle light. Then I think maybe there's a light behind me, illuminating us both, and I turn to look before I realize it's my light, a light radiating from me. I attributed it to being in his presence, which somehow upped the energy ante, making it possible for me to glow. I associate the light, the glow, with the feeling I'm feeling. I like him, really like him. I feel as if I've missed him, a lot, so much it hurts. I find that, without knowing why, I'm glad to see him, and I'm greeting him enthusiastically, too. Tears are on my face, though I can't even say who he is.
    I felt the whole story of me, as I knew it, shifting and changing, and I knew I needed this story, this bigger story, to understand the purpose and meaning of my life. Anything else would just be a footnote or, worse, a fiction. And I suddenly realize I love this strange spaceman. I've never felt closer to anyone—not Reggie, not my mother, not Miles, not anyone.
    The Void is something more than a pathway to somewhere else. It's a place of meetings, gatherings, like this one. A place you can meet your larger story, through people like this shining man. I'm overcome. Who'd have thought, when looking into the darkness of the Void, you could meet your own light in it?
    I ask him, as I continue to hold onto his hands, who he is, where he came from, where we are. I'm so glad to see him. He continues to smile, moves away, crouching down to start a small fire, and says, “Well, you must have sent out the call.”
    “What call?” I ask, surprised.
    He gestures to me to come over and sit down by him; he has the fire going, in a low spot in the rock floor. He smiles at me and laughs. I laugh, too. It just feels good to laugh. He begins to answer my questions, looking sideways at me, as he produces a pan to boil water in and the water to go in it, from a thermos attached to his pocket. He seems to be watching me, to see if anything resonates with me.
    “I'm Guy,” he says, looking to see if I already knew that, but I didn't, despite how well I know I know him. I'm so happy to be with him that I cling to his every word.
    “We've had a team connected to Station 1 for as long as any of us can remember. Not that that's saying much, because time doesn't exist for us here . Not the way it does for you there . We just know that we come together here in this no-place place whenever any one of us gets a call. The call usually just appears in our knowing, and we direct our attention here, and everything else follows.”
    He notes my confusion and says, “You'll just have to take my word for that.” He smiles again, and I feel lit from inside by his smile. “Sometimes the call goes out to the whole team, sometimes to just one or two of us. But we