Unfortunately I had given the bloke on the phone my credit card details and a sizeable deposit had already been extracted.There was no turning back.A few days later I showed up for my first lesson and joined another couple of blokes who both seemed a lot younger, fitter and harder than me but I sucked in my gut and acted tough.The tutor turned out to be a fellow of about my age and he seemed to know what he was doing. After taking us through a detailed description of what a parachute was and did he explained what our course would consist of and what he expected of us. It didn't seem too bad. How naïve I was.Three times a week for two week I arrived home stiff and sore and aching in places that I didn't know actually existed on me. Our tutor had a very penetrating and grating voice and he seemed to like the sound of it. I fucking didn't and after the first two lessons I was beginning to hate him with a fervour that I hadn't felt for years.His favourite philosophy that he drove into us. Much as I wanted to, I didn't wake Mom to get me something to eat. I felt proud of myself.I made my way to the top of the stairs and grabbed hold of the banister. Two hands. I felt good walking down the stairs. I lifted my right arm off and walked as if I was a normal person. I would put my right foot out and down to the next step. Then the left would go to the same step. All the way down. I vowed to take them two at a time within a week.I got down to the bottom and sat down to catch my breath. Boy, I can't even walk down my own stairs without getting tired. Time to get out of bed and get some exercise.I went into the kitchen and checked it out for snacks. There was one piece of Mom's chocolate cake left. She makes the best cake. Nope. What goes in has to come out. No cake yet.I opened up the refrigerator. One thing about Dad being out of the house, he wasn't going to yell at me for keeping the door open and cooling the whole god damn house.There was a bowl of hard boiled eggs. No.
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