450
PARTISAN REVIEW
much. I unbuckled from the seat, and just as soon as [ did [ banged
against a wall. But I was holding on to the seat-strap web, and I kept
holding on
to
it, and worked my feet forward into the plane. I got
banged around a lot, swinging like a clapper in a bell, but [ caught onto
another web-strap - it must have been one of the ones for storage - and
pulled on toward where the chutes had been, and the hatch was.
The chute I had taped was still taped, the only one there, and I
pulled it loose, and, one hand after the other, holding to the strap with
one hand and buckling with the other, I snapped it to my chest, over
the emergency kit, everything going round and round faster and faster.
The hatch was only a few feet farther on, and [ scrambled and
twisted along to it, and pulled the two pins. The hatch stayed. And then
the only lucky thing of the night happened. The ship yawed like it had
been hit again, and swung me on the strap away from the hatch, so that
I could get my feet around. When the plane swung back the other way
it swung me, too, and I hit the hatch with both feet, with everything I
had.
It was gone. I could see the sky whirling, outside the hole in the
plane. The air would knock your teeth loose, but it was outside air. I
had my door to the open, and went out through it, and had the whole
thing, the whole sky.
The first thing was the cold, but, like I said, not the right cold. I
was tumbling - sometimes I saw stars and sometimes I didn't see any–
thing, anything but black - and the wind seemed
to
whip the air out of
my nose sideways. But I could see enough to tell that I had some alti–
tude, enough to open the chute, and I waited a little to figure the best
way to do it. You're supposed to be facing the ground, with your head
a little lower than your feet, when you pull the chute, so that when the
lines payout and the chute opens the risers will swing you under, and
you won't get that terrific grab up through the crotch, that might be
bad in a lot of ways. I spread out my arms to try to stabilize, and it was
as easy as something in a dream. It crossed my mind how out of control
the plane had been, there at the last, and how easy it was to control the
way I was falling, and for a second it seemed to me that a man ought to
be able to fly without an airplane.
But that was dangerous; I could have held on to the notion too
long. I felt for the handle, and took hold of it with my right hand,
though I hated
to
pull my arms back in; I was half-believing they were
wings. Dangerous, like I say. Then I put my left forearm across my face,
because with a chest-pack the risers whip right across your face when
they come out, and pulled.
Something stuck. I pulled again, and it still stuck. I pulled again,
hard as I could, and the handle came away; it felt like I had thrown
