Page 33 of The Space Between Heartbeats
“Did you know that honey never goes bad? They found pots of it in some ancient Egyptian tombs that were still edible after thousands of years.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just squeeze his hand, afraid to make any sudden moves.
“And octopuses have three hearts. It’s pretty cool, actually. Two pump blood to the gills, one pumps it to the rest of the body. The heart that sends blood to the body stops beating when the octopus swims. That’s why they’d rather crawl. Swimming exhausts them.”
His neck must be as tired as mine from holding his head upright this long. It falls forward, chin against the restraint. I let mine do the same, and that dizzy feeling comes back, as all my blood rushes into it.
He continues but his voice cracks again. I know he’s talking for me, through the pain, through the exhaustion, and I can’t do anything but squeeze his hand. “And sharks have been around longer than trees. By like, millions of years.”
The facts keep coming, one after another, meaningless trivia that has nothing to do with anything but I understand why he’s doing this. Facts are safe. They’re about things that happened millions of years ago or in the depths of the ocean or on other planets—anywhere but here, anywhere but now.
“The Eiffel Tower can be fifteen centimeters taller during the summer,” he continues, and I can hear him starting to run out of steam. “Because of thermal expansion. The metal heats up and expands.”
But he keeps holding it together, reciting trivia with our hands intertwined. It’s this strange limbo, but it’s working. Time passes, and I focus on breathing, and we both pretend we’re not falling apart while we know Owen’s mangled body is under those tarps.
The ten minutes feel like hours and seconds all at once. Ellen stays visible below us, occasionally looking up to check on us, speaking calmly into her radio. The crane adjusts position. More emergency vehicles arrive, painting the darkening sky in red and blue. And finally,finally, Ellen calls up to us. “Okay, get ready, you two.”
This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, so why is my heart racing?
“It’s going to be okay,” Knox says, somehow feeling my tension.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Ellen says, still suspended in her harness a few feet away. She points down below us. “See that aerial lift coming up? That’s my partner, Mike. He’s got the rescue platform…the bucket. He’s going to position it right next to you and get as close as possible. Then he’ll secure safety harnesses on both of you and help you step across into the platform. You’ll all ride down together.”
I follow her pointing finger until I see the fire truck below with its massive arm moving upward. There’s a bucket at the end with a firefighter inside. It’s rising toward us, getting closer and closer.
“I’m staying right here to coordinate,” Ellen continues. “Mike’s done this a hundred times. You’re in good hands. Just do exactly what he tells you.”
The bucket rises steadily, and as it gets closer, I can see the firefighter inside more clearly. He’s a big guy, probably in his forties, with a weathered face and kind eyes. The bucket looks small for all of us. I start to panic as he positions it close to our car, but there’s still a gap, enough space that something could go wrong.
“Hey, folks,” he calls out. “I’m Mike. I’m going to get you out of here. What are your names?”
We tell him, and he continues.
“First thing, I need to put safety harnesses on both of you while you’re still in your seats. These are backups in case anything goes wrong during the transfer. Okay?”
We both nod.
Mike maneuvers the bucket slightly closer and reaches across the gap. “Sawyer, right? I’m going to start with you. Just stay very still.”
He works quickly, somehow strapping the harness around my torso while I’m still locked in the restraint. He clips it to a line attached to the bucket’s railing. “This is your safety line. If you slip during the transfer, this catches you. You will not fall. Understand?”
I nod, swallowing hard.
He does the same for Knox, and it’s surreal to see someone so calm in this situation.
“Good,” Mike says. “Now, I need to be straight with you. The structure is very unstable. We need to do this quickly but carefully. Sawyer, you’re going first.”
“Not without him,” I cry, gripping Knox’s hand with everything I have left. “I can’t let go.”
“It’ll be alright, Miss. Nothing will happen to him. You have my word.”
Knox unfurls his hand from mine. “You have to go. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay.” I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, but I nod anyway. “Okay.”
Mike positions the bucket even closer, but slightly below us. “Listen carefully, Sawyer. When I release your restraint, gravity’s going to pull you forward. Your body’s going to want to fall toward me. That’s okay, that’s what we want. I’m going to catch you and pull you into the bucket. All you need to do is not fight me. Don’t try to stand, don’t try to help. Just let me pull you across. Alright?”
“I—What?” There’s too many words. I can’t take them all in. “I can’t just?—”
