Doesn’t make him a doctor.”

“But you are a doctor. A famous one. I saw you coming out of the OR a few minutes ago. People were cheering and clapping.”

“So?”

“Doctors are required to help people. You took an oath.”

“I also took an oath not to cheat on my wife, but here I am, standing on a ledge, forty stories up, hoping to see your panties.”

“You’re not wearing a ring.”

“Sadly, I’m divorced.”

“There’s a shock.”

“Look down.”

“Look down? Are you insane? That’s the last thing you should tell a jumper!”

“Why?”

“I could get dizzy and fall.”

I close the space between us. “You came out here to jump. Does it really matter if you fall?”

She takes a couple of shaky steps away from me, but I’m much more comfortable out here than she is. For each step she manages, I take two.

“What’s your name?” I say.

“None of your business.”

“You’ve got a nice body. Are you a dancer?”

“Fuck you!”

“You’re actually quite pretty. You’re what, twenty-eight? You should be in the suburbs, ruining some poor bastard’s life.” I point to her dress. “Show me your panties.”

“Get away from me, you degenerate bastard!”

“You can show me now, or I can see them on the pavement in a few minutes. Your choice.”

She looks down, nearly loses her balance. Looks back at me, sees I’m three feet away. She screams, takes several quick steps.

I say, “I’ve tried to kill myself a hundred times on this very ledge, and backed out every time. You should thank me.”

“Thank you for pushing me off a building? You’re crazier than I am!”

“Stand still,” I say. “Close your eyes. Pretend you’re a kid again, standing at the edge of a swimming pool, learning to dive. Lean out over the edge, let your body take you right into the air. It’s going to feel exhilarating.”

“Shut up, you crazy bastard!”

“See what you’re doing? You’re chickening out, like I always do. We’ve both got it in us to jump, we just need a push. Or if you prefer, we can hold hands and jump together.”

She studies my face, sees I’m serious.

Her eyes go wide; then she turns and sprints away from me.

I’ve never done any ledge sprinting, but I gamely chase her to the corner of the building, turn, chase her to the next corner; which is half a city block. She’s younger than me by a dozen years, and I’m feeling it. I’m winded, ready to quit.

But then I think about how this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time, not to mention on a ledge, so I suck it up and charge forward. My renewed effort allows me to keep pace with her, though I’m unable to gain ground. When I turn the fourth corner, we’re back where we started, except that she climbs back through the window, then closes it, then locks it.

She’s safe inside; I’m still on the ledge. She’s grinning at me, making monkey faces. Still hopeful, I point at her dress, but all she shows me is her middle finger.

I sigh, walk to the spot where I met her, then sit on the ledge and watch the city move beneath me.

2.

I KNOW WHAT you’re thinking.