One Enchanted Summer

Chapter 6

CHAPTER

SIX

Grayson

It’s hot today. I’m sweating more than usual, and some of the guys have been complaining about the heat. I try to stay positive and be a good leader, but I’m definitely feeling it too. Performing in the summer in Florida is not for the faint of heart. You’d think a few of these people would complain a little less since they don’t have contracts, but the decision isn’t up to me, so I try to ignore them. Honestly, it’s the beginning of summer. It’s not going to get better; it might even get worse. We are on the fourth show of the day, and with only one left to go, I try to pump up the crew.

The performance goes smoothly and I am proud to see that everyone does their best while they are on stage. They might grump behind the scenes, but at least I see them putting in the work while the audience is watching. We make it to the teeterboard scene, and Mikey isn’t here today, so Mason is doing it with me. He’s a professional and has been on the show longer than me. I respect him a lot.

We reach the teeterboard and jump and pass the egg back and forth, and then as if in slow motion, I watch as Mason flips too far and misses his mark by just a little. He lands on the teeterboard wrong and I watch as his body crumples. I don’t know how I’m able to comprehend all of this while still flying in the air. It feels as if the world has stopped and I’m somehow suspended in mid-air. I catch myself on the way down and rush to Mason’s side. He’s laying on the ground unmoving.

“Mason!” I yell crouching beside him. His eyes are awake and they look towards me.

“I can’t move,” he says, his voice shaking. “I can’t move,” he repeats, scared. I can hear the crowd growing louder as people realize this isn’t part of the show. The rest of the crew is rushing towards us, and I spot our medic running with a spinal board. Employees start forcing the audience to leave, and I focus back on Mason.

“Move out of the way,” the medic yells. We all step back as they start to assess him.

“We need to call an ambulance,” I say.

“One is already on the way,” Julia replies.

A silence falls over us as we watch them carefully get Mason onto the stretcher. He doesn’t lose consciousness and they assure us that’s a good sign. The ambulance is there within minutes, and they load Mason quickly onto a stretcher. I hear our show medic inform the EMT that he thinks Mason may have broken his neck.

I don’t realize I’m shaking until Mason is out of sight and the rest of us are frozen in place watching where we last saw him. I know as the leader I need to say something but I have absolutely no idea what to say. Our boss, Nick, speaks up before I have to. “Everyone go home. We’re done for the day. Probably tomorrow too. I’ll text you any updates I get on Mason.”

No one says anything in response. I don’t think any of us know what to say. Mandy is quietly sobbing and Julia hugs her gently. Usually we joke around at the end of the day as we dress and go home but it’s silent. It feels like most of us are avoiding eye contact with each other.

When I finally reach my car, I close the door and take a deep breath as I feel the emotion tear through me. My body is shaking as I finally let out a sob. I can’t stop myself from replaying the image of Mason falling over and over again despite how hard I try not to. I cry for him. I cry for his family. Then selfishly, I cry at the fear that it very easily could have been me. Mason is just as professional, if not more, than me. He’s done the teeterboard thousands of times. It could have been me. I could be the one on the way to the hospital right now. That thought terrifies me. It’s never felt more real than in this moment.

Mason broke his neck but he’s alive. That’s the news I got later in the day. He had surgery and they aren’t sure about his physical capabilities yet. Nick officially canceled tomorrow’s performances too. He says they will be doing a thorough investigation of the accident. Who knows what that means? It’s not like they are going to find something. It was a freak accident that no one could have prevented. In some ways, that makes it even worse.

A few days later, Nick emails us, “The investigation has concluded, and nothing was found. We will resume our regular performance schedule, but everyone is required to come in two hours early for training. This is non-negotiable. We will be doing thorough training and treating each of you as if you’ve never done the show before. Thank you. See you Monday.”

Since I’m not working today, I decide to stop by the hospital and visit Mason. He’s been texting us updates and said he would be up for visitors. I wanted to go before but I was a little concerned I wouldn’t be able to keep my emotions in check. The last thing I want to do is break down crying and make him comfort me. He’s the one that needs consoling. Mason’s wife is perched on the edge of his bed when I knock and step inside the room. She smiles at me and then looks at Mason.

“I’m going to grab some food,” she says, excusing herself.

“She was just looking for an excuse to get away,” Mason jokes. He looks good. He’s wearing a neck brace, but the rest of him appears almost untouched.

“It’s weird, right? I almost look normal,” Mason says.

“I’m sorry,” I say, realizing I was staring. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he replies. “Actually, really good. Look what I found out this morning.” He lifts up his arm and waves his hand at me. Then I see movement at the end of the bed and notice he’s wiggling his toes.

“Wow!” I exclaim.

“I know. I was a little worried there; I was really holding out hope when they said it could be temporary paralysis. I’m just so grateful. It could have been so much worse.”

I can feel myself getting emotional at how positive he is. We were all complaining about how hot and sweaty we were that day, and yet, here’s Mason in the hospital talking about how grateful he is to be able to wiggle his toes.

“I’m so sorry,” I finally manage to say after swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Oh man, it wasn’t your fault. I honestly don’t know what happened but I definitely know it wasn’t your fault.”

I pull the chair next to his bed when I realize I’m still standing awkwardly. I look around the room and I’m glad his wife has been here with him. It’s so dull in here. I can’t imagine how lonely it must be to be stuck in bed for days.

“I saw Nick’s message. Back to day one training, huh? That’s rough,” Mason says.

“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to it. When I did my training it wasn’t summer. It’s going to be miserable,” I reply.

“Could be worse. You could be in here,” Mason says.

“Oh,” I stammer, “yeah, of course, I meant…”

“I’m kidding,” Mason interrupts me with a chuckle. “I’d rather be in here with the AC.”

I laugh but am still amazed at his optimism. “What’s your recovery going to look like?” I wonder.

“Don’t really know. It’s kind of a day by day thing at this point. But the mobility in my hands and feet are a good sign.”

“I really worried you might be paralyzed,” I say without thinking. Once I say it I realize how callous it sounds.

“Oh me too, man.” He smiles at me and I relax in relief. Mason has always been a cool guy, but seeing him being so optimistic while lying in a hospital bed is showing him in an even better light. It’s inspiring, I don’t know if I would have the same kind of attitude.

“Well it won’t be the same until you’re back,” I say.

“He’s not coming back,” a female voice says from behind me. I whirl around and see his wife standing in the doorway holding a bag of food.

“He’s not going back,” she repeats as she walks to the edge of Mason’s bed. I shouldn’t be surprised by her statement but somehow I am. It never crossed my mind that he might not be coming back. I guess that’s what being a stuntman for my life has done to me. I can't imagine anything else. I look at Mason and can feel the question written on my face. He frowns a little and I know his wife was telling the truth.

“She’s right,” he admits. “I don’t think I could go back. I’ve never been more scared in my life. I kept thinking if I had landed just a little differently I could’ve been paralyzed and never been able to chase around my future kids or jump on a trampoline with them. Or worse, I could’ve died and I would have never even had kids.”

His words affect me more than I expect. I understand what he’s saying on the surface, but the part that resonates with me is that I don’t have what he’s talking about. I’ve never had someone that made me scared to get hurt or worse. I’ve never had anyone I cared that much about. I’ve only ever had myself to think about.

“I respect that,” I reply to Mason and surprisingly I mean it. In fact, I’m actually envious of it.