I look down in horror, but feel my lungs catch themselves in my chest at the sight of Julia’s other hand shooting out.  Gina lands squarely in her palm, which quickly closes around her to prevent her from falling.  That couldn’t have been comfortable, and I’m sure Gina’s heart is racing like mad, but at least she’s safe.

                I, on the other hand, still face a drop of approximately 15 stories.  Excellent.

                As I continue to hang on, and look over at Julia’s unchanged, stoic face, I try to work it through logically.  I know that when I fall in the next few seconds, there is a 99% likelihood that I’ll be caught in the firm palm of Julia before being cradled by her fingers, completely safe from the drop.  That’s a fact, and I know there’s really no chance of falling.

                And yet, dangling here, I know that I’m being expected to drop and just let Julia catch me.  But I literally can’t will myself to voluntarily let go and drop the ten feet or so (relatively) before being caught, because really all I see is the equivalent of skydiving without a parachute.

                “Let go, Jack,” whispers Julia finally, still watching me contently, as if watching paint dry.

                “Uh-uh-okay!” I say, and try to let go, but I can’t.  My mind won’t allow it.

                “Just do it, Jack.  It’s okay.  I’ll catch you,” she says.  I look down.  With the hang holding Gina, she uses a finger to prop open her jean jacket pocket, and plops Gina right into it, freeing up her hand for me.  But she doesn’t flatten it, palm side up, so I can land nicely in it.  She still wants me to look down at the drop and just go.  “I’ll catch you, Jack.  You’re all right.  I won’t let you get hurt.  Just do it.  Let go.”

                And I finally do; I want to puke as I look down, but I don’t even fall for a millisecond before I’m in Julia’s hand cage, her fingers closing up as soon as I’m safely on board.  She raises her hand up to her face.

                “See, not so bad, is it?” she says, finally smiling again as she opens her hand a little so she can see me.  I go into a kneeling position, still a little dizzy.  I almost fall, but manage to grab onto her pinky for support.

                “Yeah, I guess you’re right!” I say optimistically.  Don’t need anything putting a damper on the mood for our date.

                “Good, I’m glad.  I wasn’t sure if you were going to let go there for a second, but… you did, because you’re a good little boy.  And good little boys like you get rewarded, so that’s why I caught you.  That make sense?” she says.  I shudder, wondering if she’s kidding about deciding whether to catch me if I let go voluntarily or not.

                “Yeah, it does!” I say.  She nods.

                “Good.  Do you want to take a break for a second?” she answers, closing her fingers back up around me. 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.  Hmm… oh, I know!” she says.  I am lowered down to above waist level, at the pocket opposite the side Gina’s in.  She uses her pinky to lift the flap, then tips her hand at a slight diagonal angle.  I roll straight in off her fingers, landing with a little thud in the denim pouch, my body slamming into the fabric lined form of her side.  As I reorient myself, I try to stand but realize quickly this is impossible, so I just sit.  I actually have a decent amount of space, despite the claustrophobic atmosphere.  My heart skips a beat as I see the outer part of the pocket caving in for a moment, until I see the distinct, pillar-like shape of four forms pressing in on it.  It caves in until her fingers feel me.  They pat twice gently on me before receding.

With the flap of the pocket closed, I actually can’t hear anything.  Hell, I can barely see anything besides the blue denim-tinted light streaming through the microscopic holes of the fabric.  It feels like another 10 minutes of being in here, though, before there’s a lot of shuffling up and down.  Eventually, a massive, muscular form starts coming up under my butt, then lowering again and allowing the pocket to hang.  It’s Julia’s leg; she’s squatting down to pick up and put away the town.  I breathe a sigh of relief.  We made it through another one.

Eventually the flap opens and the fingers slide down the side of the pocket, looking for me.  Her fingertips tap a spot just above my head before moving down and tapping again, bumping me in the chest.  Having found me, her fingers reposition and I’m taken up into a soft fist.  It’s odd to imagine the sheer terror that would have filled my mind at this sight two short years ago, but now I just sort of see it and expect it.  Like oxygen flowing in the air.

Bath time is soon after.  Julia seems to rush us a little more than usual.  With that done, Julia places us on the table for transport back inside the doll house.

“I hope you all had fun during play time, but now it’s time for dinner and then bed immediately afterward.  So here you go…” she says, placing a single ravioli inside the doll house opening.  “Now, I’ll say good night to…” she says, her eyes sweeping over me, “ …most of you, and I hope you all have a good sleep.”

She places everyone back inside, me last.  With me back in her palm, she reaches into her skirt pocket with the other hand and retrieves something: a folded up pile of clothes, pinched between two of her fingers.  She brings them near me.

“Here you go, Jack.  Just something special for tonight so you’ll look your best,” she says, winking and smiling at me.  I take them, and her fingers release the pressure on them.

“Thanks!” I say, trying to sound excited.

“You’re welcome!  Now, get dressed.  I’ll be back in an hour, little guy,” she coos, giving me a squeeze.  She deposits me in the cup and down I go.