History of the Trap: July Nightmares, Part 10

10

Wednesday, July 31st, 1974.  Or Year One Day 106, as some eventually called it. We were all out on the lawn again, behind the school, ready for another launch.  This one would propel a man past the barrier.

Mr. Cairn and his team had rigged a lightweight bike with makeshift rockets. a row of five protruding out the back.  A large ramp was built to guarantee upward acceleration.  The goal was to get it as high as the rocket experiment had done on that fateful day two weeks, the success of which had been washed away by the tunnel explosion that occurred later that same day. 

It bore some resemblance to the insane jumps of Evel Knievel, but without the garish costumes and carnivalesque hoopla.  We were anxious and hopeful, but we were not up to making it into a big show. 

Harry Cairn, the physics teacher in charge of the contest, wanted to be the jumper, refusing to delegate that to anyone else.  Randy Sherman, our occasional associate with Artie's gang, and Larry Weisman, freshman genius, insisted that it not be him as they needed someone as light as possible.  Mr. Cairn was not heavyset by any means, but he was not a small man, over six feet tall and in the 180 pound vicinity. 

Other volunteers were looked for.  Larry, who was shorter than me and fairly lightweight, quickly volunteered, but my Dad overruled it being a student or a woman.  That left three men willing to do it, one teacher and two janitors.  A name was pulled out of a hat and the smallest of the three was selected.  Hector Juarez, a very small man, who could have been a jockey, was excited to be the one picked.  He was a very friendly and polite man, popular with both students and faculty.  He was very close to the janitorial supervisor, Alberto Foreman.  They seemed to know each other outside of work, probably came from the same neighborhood in Loren, could even be related. 

I had overheard Alberto yesterday trying to talk Hector out of it, but there was no convincing him.  Hector was determined to do his part, and thought there was a real shot that he could be reunited with his wife and son.

Indeed, as Hector was in his last stage of preparation, just before he got on the rocket bike, he took out a picture of his wife and son, gently kissed it, and put it in his front pocket.

We applauded Hector as he got on the bike, but did not go crazy.  There was no band, screaming or cheerleaders. Just a respectful anticipation.

A parachute had been put on Hectors back.  One he got past the barrier, he was to deploy it, insuring him of the softest landing possible.

There were no experiments, no trial runs.  The fuel was very difficult to make, and after this run, it might be weeks before enough more could be made.

The goal was to see if we could get past the barrier that way.  The hope was that Hector could get us help from the other side.  We weren't sure how that would work exactly, but we had our dreams.  Maybe, for some reason, they didn't know what happened to us.  We were baffled by the fact that we had never seen anyone on the other side of the barrier, why no one seemed to be outside trying to free us.  You would think we would be surrounded by the National Guard or something.

Hector had a walkie talkie with him, as all the janitorial staff used to communicate with each other.  The phone lines were cut, or nonoperational, but that might not effect two-way radio communication.  Yes, it was true that we received no television or radio stations from outside, but we had high hopes.

Mr. Cairn hugged Hector, and then he and his crew backed away to where the extended fuse lay, about fifty feet back.  There were no speeches, no pomp, only the circumstance of Mr. Cairn bending down to the light the fuse.  He ran back another hundred yards as the fuse dwindled towards the rockets.  We held our collective breath.

The rockets rapidly lit up, and Hector on his bike rapidly soared up the ramp.  It continued to rise and rise, reaching the heights of the rocket two weeks.

The bike was at the barrier in a blink.  And as soon as it hit the barrier, it looked like he was going to make it.  But just at the barrier, Hector lit up like a Christmas tree.  He fried to a skeleton as quick as a blink.  By the time we gasped in horror, it was all over.

The bike continued to rocket on past the barrier, until it disappeared from our sight.  But it was a rider less vehicle. Hector's skeletal remains fell just outside the barrier.  We saw him plummet form the sky and fall behind some trees.

We were trapped.  Truly and hopelessly.  Our greatest minds had failed us.  Our month of nightmares was over, but months of despair and desperation were just beginning.

This concludes Chapter Six, July Nightmares.

Coming Soon!

Chapter Seven - August Blues