This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

“How’s the Falls?” asked Mike. He and Janet entered a queue line. The sign above them said the Blue Tornado. The air was full of the smell of caramel popcorn and cotton candy stands where the machines had been running too long.

“Don’t ask,” she said.

“That bad?”

“It’s just… the caves are fine. The falls are pumping as they should. It looks beautiful, like always.”

“Your cave features are better than Ruby Falls.”

“At least those are real.”

“Yours isn’t?”

“You’re kidding. You know the elevator is fake, right? Tell me you aren’t that dense, Mike.”

“Okay. You know, though, I always feel like the presentation at Blueberry Falls was much better than anyone else’s, especially yours.”

“Stop it.”

They turned a corner in the queue, which was lined on the left and the right with metal bars that were painted red.

“I always thought they ought to paint these blue, maybe yellow or something, but never red,” said Mike.

“I mean, it’s the Blue Tornado, right?”

“I know. There was trouble with it earlier in the week.”

“I never heard that. What happened?”

“Well, I heard it was having a hard time launching twice, and then I heard one group got stuck half upside down in the corkscrew. Can you believe that?”

“I can’t believe I hadn’t heard about it, that’s all. The Blue Thunder…”

“Tornado.”

“It’s practically built on top of Blueberry Falls.”

“Yeah.”

“Stuck in the corkscrew, though. That’s got to be tough.”

“They were there for forty-five minutes, hanging there by their shoulder straps, looking at the concrete floor. They had to turn on the lights.”

“Oh, that breaks the whole look.”

“I know.”

They found the rest of the line. Stepping behind a few folks, still a couple of bends away from the loading zone. There was a little trash here and there. Someone in line ahead of them was dropping candy wrappers. The two ahead of them were soaked, probably off of one of the water rides, but mainly they smelled like sweat and too much sunscreen.

“How’d they get them down?” said Janet.

“They got in there behind it with a car that was working, took the breaks off the first one, and nudged it in.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“Mike, you’re full of it.”

“I know, but you still love me.”

“Mike.”

“What? You’ve got another guy you aren’t telling me about?”

He was smiling, but Janet could tell.

“Not seeing anyone right now. Not like that.”

“I keep telling you that you could do better than me, anyway. Tour guide and a burger flipper. You’re going to get out of this theme park one day.”

“What, and you’re not?” She punched him on the shoulder. “Just because your dad runs the front office doesn’t mean…”

“That I will? It does.”

“You were always better than me in school.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“I thought…”

“High school was a joke. Besides, you don’t see me in college, do you? I’m still here running the food stand, and I do most of the cooking on the busy nights, too.”

“Yeah, your Fridays and Saturdays are toast, aren’t they?”

“Pretty much.”

They stepped up again. The two sweaty folks tried to whip each other with little rags they were using to mop up their sweat.

The lights flickered,

“What was that?”

“Geez, Janet. The lights.”

“No, stupid, why?”

“Ah, that is a better question.”

It did it again.

People were sitting on the hand bars ahead of them, goofing off, and jumping down. It looked to Janet like a whole train-full gap ahead of them in life had just moved. They followed as the others brought up the slack.

“Seriously Janet. What do you want to do after wonderland here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you run off to college?”

“Money. It’s all money.”

“Not going to get it here.”

“You know it.”

She turned the corner. They were in the home stretch now, and she and Mike could see the loading platform. A bunch of people got off. They pushed at shoulder harnesses made of steel and rubber that cone down over your neck, shoulders, and chest, and clambered out, headed for the exit towards the gift shop.

“You always exit at the gift shop,” said Mike.

“Always.”

“I think it’s the only way any of these things make a dime, do they?”

“Heck, I never figured out how anybody can afford to build a coaster like this.”

“You ought to design coasters.”

“You know I’ve thought about that.”

They got to the end where the line roped back.

 “Next train, Janet,” said the operator.

“Thanks, Jeff,” she said.

“Jeff?”

“So I ride it during every lunch break, okay?”

“Right.”

Jeff waved, then winked to Janet after securing folks into seats and starting the coaster rolling. It tumbled around a corner, got lined up, and pointed towards a bog circular hole that took it into the building properly. Here they were undercover, just as the queue was, but this coaster was all indoors. After a brief countdown and lots of screaming, the coaster screamed into the building at incredible speed and, once inside and into its first loop.

Once the noise died down, she looked at Mike. “Animals.”

“What?”

“I want to help animals. I was thinking about transferring to the zoo side and getting in with the vets.”

“You want that?”

“I don’t know. You think your sad friend could help us get in over there?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

The next train pulled in, and a separate group of people disembarked.

“I guess they are doing two trains today.”

“I want you to ask him for me. For me.”

She kissed him on the cheek, lightly enough, then took his hand and dragged him to the first car, and shoved him in.

She jumped in next to him, pulled the seatbelt tight, and then pulled the shoulder harness down about hers.

Jeff came by a moment later. “Hi Janet,” he said and checked their restraints. “Mike.”

“Dude,” said Mike.

“Be over for some sliders and fries later.”

Jeff went back to his station and started going through his countdown.

“I think he likes you,” she said.

“Get out.”

They rolled around the corner and in front of the launch zone. It was a circular cut into the building where the dark coaster was. The surrounding circle appeared in concentric orange, blue and yellow paint and a digital sign across the top said three… two… one… then the coaster launched on a magnetic track that took them from zero to forty-five miles an hour in four seconds.

They screamed as it dragged the train, rocketing, into the building and then right into a loop.

Everything was lit with black lights, glowing greens, pale blues, and unearthly oranges streaked all around them. Up a hill, and over it, Janet found a little airtime. They took a corner and into the second loop.

The second loop took them low, then up to the tallest hill in the place. They crested the hill and faced what everyone called the beast, but wasn’t really, it was just what the fluorescent paint looked like. Janet talked about it with friends all the time.

By her side, mine was talking, but she couldn’t hear him. All she could hear was the rock music being piped into the speakers by her ears. Then the wind started up.

Flashing lights crackled. Lightning images flashed on the walls. Wind machines picked up, to make this part in the dark feel faster than it was. Then they were rolling through a series of bunny hops that led into the corkscrew.

“Here it comes,” said Mike, but she didn’t hear him. She was looking too hard at a metal bridge. She only knew where it was because she’d seen this coaster with the lights on several times. Something was on the bridge. A shadow, a person, a something.

They went through the corkscrew, and while you’re going through the corkscrew, there’s no time for thinking. They rolled and rolled and rolled and then they were back out, blinded by the daylight.

The shoulder bars released, Janet popped their seat belt, and they pushed their way out. Jeff was there. He extended a hand and helped Janet and Mike.

“Pleasant ride?”

“The best,” said Mike.

“Janet?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“You okay?” said Jeff.

“You know it.”

She turned to Mike. “Burger?”

“No way!”

“Jeff?”

“Hey, still working!”

“Hey!”

“I’m teasing you, Shut up, Captain Tacos?”

She gave mike a high-five.

“Captain Tacos, yeah.”

“See y’all later,”

They waved and went down the ramp out of the ride, passing right by the burger station. It was a mini diner in chrome, with mostly indoor seating and some benches in front.

They headed up the hill to Captain Tacos. It was little more than a walk-up window, with some seating nearby in the sun, but it had the world-famous fried fish tacos, and Janet could eat there every day of her life and never tire of it.

They climbed the hill and came around where Smitty was sitting there cleaning something. He had a long red beard, and an eye patch, a black bandanna on his head.

Janet came up with Mike.

“Mike, what are you doing up here?” said Smitty.

“I gotta eat something else once in a while,”

“Okay, oh, it’s you, Janet. Need both eyes for a woman like you.”

He lifted his eye patch. Both his eyes were fine, crystal blue.

“I want…”

“Fish tacos?”

“You know it.”

“I got your fish tacos.”

“Order up,” said someone from the back, setting them on the counter.

“Here you go.”

She made a move to pay, but Smitty waved them off. “I got this one.”

“Thanks, Smitty.”

She picked hers up. Mike got his.

He lifted a finger, “just remember, world-famous.”

“Always.”

“See you later.” He waved them off.

They took their plates to a nearby bench that was shaped like a giant octopus. They took their seats in giant fiberglass tentacles.

“I hate this bench.”

“Shut up. I like it.”

“Animals, eh? That’s what you want?”

In the distance, an elephant trumpeted.

“I think so. I love taking care of them. Do you have any pets?”

“I got a dog, you?”

“What kind?”

“Sort of brown and black.”

“No, I mean breed.”

“Oh what? I think he’s a dachshund, maybe a mutt.”

“That’s what I mean.”

“You have pets?”

“Three tabby cats, two gray and one red, a corn snake, and a big Rottweiler. “

“Geez, a snake?”

“It’s the dog that’ll bite you. The corn snake is nothing. Easy care.”

“And you think you can keep up with an elephant? You know the first task, right? I knew Ryan before, he quit.”

“Went to college.”

“Whatever. It’s poop patrol.”

“I know.”

“Can you deal with that?”

“Are you afraid it won’t wash off?”

She laughed at him before he could say anything else.

“Yes.”

She laughed at him again, then started working on her tacos. They were fresh, never greasy, crisp yet tender. Every bite was good.

“I’m sorry,” he said as they were finishing up and throwing their trash away. “College isn’t stupid. Neither is following what you want to do. Just because I can’t…”

“Don’t worry about it, and if you want to, you can, no matter what your dad says about it or the burger place.”

“Not me, I…”

“Nothing. If you want it, you can do it.”

“Janet, did you see anything weird on the roller coaster?”

“No?”

“Never mind.”