Talk of the Town (22 page)

Avery bounced up and down on my arm, trying to move my dead weight. Next thing I knew, I was headed through the ropes.

I’ll just go far enough until they tell me I’m too fat, and then I’ll put the little guy on with his brothers. . . .

“Hurry, it’s getting full!” Avery broke into a trot, and I had to step quick to keep up. A couple of teenagers slipped under the rope in front of us and cut in line, and Andy and Amos broke into a run, not wanting to lose their spot. They made it past the line-cutters and got the third to last car, the two teenagers plopped themselves in behind them, and a young couple took the final car. Next thing I knew, there stood Avery and me, watching the safety bars lock into place and the blue train click forward.

Andy looked around and realized Avery didn’t make it, but by then it was too late. “You get the red one, Aves!” he called, and then away he and Amos went.

Lord, have mercy,
I thought.
I can’t let this boy ride the roller coaster alone.

I started looking around for a friend or neighbor who’d be willing to share a car with Avery. The blue train made it up the hill and swooshed downward, and I heard Andy and Amos laugh and yell.

“Here comes ours!” Avery pointed as the red Lightning Snake swept by with a rattle and a crash, then whipped around and around the corkscrew inside the track.

I checked back down the line. There had to be somebody I knew. . . .

“Here it is! Here it is!” Avery tugged. “Come on, we get the front!”

I’m too fat. I’m too fat and too old.

“Come on! Come on!”

The red train glided into the unloading area, and right there in the third seat was Otis Charles. Pastor Harve was in the seat behind him with one of his little grandkids. If they’d let those two big lugs on the train, they’d put me on without so much as a by-your-leave.

I waved my hand and tried to catch O.C.’s attention. If I could get him to see me, he’d take Avery on the roller coaster.

The crowd was closing in, pushing us forward. I waved harder. “Otis Charles? Otis Charles?” O.C. looked around like he’d heard me, but then the blue train whooshed by and the sound was lost.

“Come on! Come on, let’s get the front!” Avery pleaded, bouncing and pulling my hand as the red train moved forward for loading. “Come on, Mrs. Doll!”

“Avery!” Before I knew what was happening, I’d turned around and snapped at Avery like he was one of my own sons.

He froze in place, his mouth hanging open and his big brown eyes going wide.

“Now hold on a minute, son. I can’t . . .”

Avery’s little face melted like frosting off a cake. I looked at that boy, and I wondered how many times he’d had promises made to him only to be taken back later. Standing there on that platform, he didn’t seem a bit surprised about the roller coaster. He looked like he’d expected things to fall through.

Imagene Doll, if you don’t get on that roller car with this boy, you might as well lie down in your grave right now. You might as well be dead already.

Giving Avery’s hand a squeeze, I squared my shoulders. “I can’t get on that roller coaster without sayin’ a prayer first.” I closed my eyes and verses whipped through my head in rapid-fire.
“I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest”
—I hoped that counted for roller coasters.
“My flesh and my heart faileth”
—which was true enough.
“The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me”
—or little boys.
“But strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age”
—I qualified for that, sure enough.

“There, now let’s go before somebody else gets our spot.” The two of us hurried forward and Avery pulled me into the very front car of the red train. A lady in the blue train screamed bloody murder as it swooshed by and whipped around a corner.

The Twenty-third Psalm came to mind.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . . Thy rod and thy staff . . . Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me . . .”

“Oh mercy!” I heard myself holler as the safety bar clicked down hard over my knees and the train jerked forward. It seemed like the bar should be up on my waist. Real tight, so I couldn’t fall out.

“Get ready to fly!” the attendant called, and I swiveled around to tell him to stop this crazy thing—our safety bar wasn’t near tight enough. But it was too late. The Lightning Snake let out a big hiss, and we were headed up the hill.

I shut my eyes as the car moved upward—
click, click, click, click
. It reminded me of the old elevator at Woolworths when I was a kid. That thing rattled and squeaked and jerked up and down like it’d fall any minute. My mama hated it. We kids thought it was the berries.

I felt along the safety bar and closed my hand over Avery’s. One way or another, I would hold us both in this car until we were safe on solid ground again.
Lord, give me strength. Help me keep us both—

“What are you doin’, Mrs. Doll?” I opened one eye, and Avery was watching me with the darnedest look on his face.

“Praying, Avery. I’m praying some more.” I glanced over my other shoulder and the folks on the ground looked like chickens in a yard. We’d almost made it to the top of the hill, and from where I was sitting, it seemed like there wasn’t a thing holding us up. I couldn’t see the track or the trestle or anything. Down below, the blue car was going through the corkscrew and coming in for a landing. I wished Avery and I had gotten on that car, and it would all be over by now.

“How come?” Avery asked, and I turned back to him.

“Because I’m scared, Avery. I’m scared to death, and when you’re scared the thing to do is pra-aaaaay!” Off we went over the edge. Tears whipped into my eyes on the way down, and I promised God if I survived this, I’d never gossip, skip Sunday school, doze off during a sermon, overeat, put more than a nip of rum in my eggnog, think a mean thought, or get on another roller coaster as long as I lived.

No sooner were we at the bottom than we whipped up again, and sideways around a corner. After that it was up, down, around, sideways, around, up, down, around, and around, and around. All the while, I was screaming as loud as I could. Sometime during the ride, I left off praying, and the screaming turned to something between a holler and a war whoop. I felt like I was a kid again, bareback on my old pony, Whirley, galloping as fast as we could along the cow trail that went up and down the earthen terraces in our south pasture. Each time Whirley topped a hump, his feet cleared the ground for a minute as he leapt down the other side. My rear end left his back as we flew through the air, and for a piece of a second, I was hanging on just by my fingers in his mane. It was the closest I’d ever come to flying.

The roller coaster was the next best thing. As we topped the last hill, I threw my head back and imagined I was that little brownlegged girl, my hair streaming out behind me as Whirley took flight.

The minute our train came in for a landing, I gathered up the boys and said, “That was the most fun I’ve had since I was little. Let’s do it again.” All three boys were game, and we rode the roller coaster two more times, right in a row. I couldn’t believe I’d walked past the roller coaster for fifty years, and just now, nearly seventy years old, I finally gave it a try. It made me wonder what else I might’ve missed just because I was afraid.

When we got off for the third time, it crossed my mind that I did break my promise to God about not getting on a roller coaster again if I survived the first ride. I figured He would forgive me, though. I had a feeling He was the one who wanted me to take those boys on the roller coaster to begin with. Funny thing was, when I brought us all into the fair and bought the ride tickets, I thought
I
was doing a good thing for the boys. As it turned out, the boys did a good thing for me.

As we left the Lightning Snake behind, I could still feel the ground moving under my feet. The boys and I staggered a bit by the gate, laughing about how we couldn’t get our balance, and when I turned around, darned if Betty Prine wasn’t sitting on a bench in front of the fun house, watching me with her lips squeezed together, blinking like a bug-eyed goldfish. One of her grandkids tried to wave at her from the Lightning Snake line, but she didn’t even notice. She was too busy curling up her nose at me.

“Hallooo, Betty!” I smiled real big and waved at her, because at that moment, even Betty Prine couldn’t ruin my fun. I was as happy as a pig in poop. “You enjoyin’ the fair tonight?” From the looks of her, the answer was no. Betty Prine never looked like she enjoyed anything. My mama used to say if you frown on the outside long enough, eventually you’ll grow a frown on the inside, too. I heard on
Oprah
where they use that Botox on people’s faces so they can’t frown, and that gets them over being depressed. Betty Prine needed a gallon jug of that stuff.

Avery tugged my hand and hinted that it’d be neat to go in the fun house. Andy scolded him for asking, and Avery looked down at his shoes.

“That’s a fine idea, Avery,” I told him. “I don’t see why not. I haven’t been in a fun house in years.”

Avery brightened up, and the three of us marched right over to the ticket booth by Betty Prine’s bench. “Come on in the fun house with us, Betty,” I said, and Avery, bless his heart, gave her a hopeful look. What a sweet boy.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Betty tipped her nose in the air, pretending she didn’t see Avery at all. “Imagene Doll,
what
in
heaven’s name
do you think you’re doing?”

“Goin’ in the fun house,” I answered, just as pleasant as you please. I was proud of how nice the words sounded. That’d really get Betty’s goat. “After that, we might go on the roller coaster again, or maybe that crazy thing where you ride up in a chair and then drop on a big rubber band.”

Betty’s eyes got smaller and smaller—narrow, like a rat’s. “Have you
looked
at yourself, Imagene?” She flipped a hand toward me as I finished paying for another book of tickets. “Going around in public like that. People will think you’ve
lost
your
mind
.”

I leaned over and took a glance in the mirror on the fun house sign. The wind had pulled the curl from my hair and stood it up straight at a height of about four inches, all the way around my head. I had lipstick trails around my mouth, and somehow I’d picked up a smudge of grease from the roller coaster. It had stained my shirt and there was a dollop on my cheek. “Well, will you look at that?” I said. “Boys, ain’t that a funny mirror? Let’s go see what else is inside.”

Betty glared fireballs at me as I herded the boys toward the fun house. The best thing was I didn’t care one whit.
The folks who mind don’t matter, and the folks who matter don’t mind
—I saw that on a T-shirt someplace on the midway. Maybe I’d buy one for Betty.

“Don’t think everyone doesn’t
know
what you’re doing, Imagene Doll,” Betty hollered after me. “You and Donetta Bradford using those poor boys to try to get on Amber Anderson’s hometown show. You ought to be . . .”

The fun house music drowned out the rest, and Betty Prine was gone by the time we came out. As we strolled up the midway, I spotted Amanda-Lee and Carter trying to throw Ping-Pong balls into a goldfish bowl to win a goldfish. The balls were bouncing everywhere, and finally one landed in a dish, and Amanda-Lee came away with a fish in a Ziploc bag. Carter tried to take it from her and she sidestepped away, laughing. Holding the fish at arm’s length, she told him to win his own fish—this one was hers fair and square. He argued that it was
his
ticket that bought the Ping-Pong balls, but she said it didn’t matter—it was her toss that landed in the bowl.

I stood there and watched the two of them for a minute, reliving the first time Jack and I ever walked down a midway, him a young soldier and me just a girl in my first year of college, on a trip to Galveston Island with my chums. I first met Jack down on the beach. He invited me to a winter carnival that was set up by the shore, and that was all it took. It didn’t matter that I’d just started college or that he had two more years in the navy. He won a Kewpie doll for me, and I fell in love. Every time we were within ten feet of each other, there was lightning in the air.

When Amanda-Lee danced away from Carter, she had that look in her eye and so did he. The space between them was filled with enough electricity to light up the entire midway.

After the gold fish booth, Amanda-Lee and I ended up in the restroom together. I was headed out and she was going in. I’d stopped at the mirror to try to do something with my hair. She had a flush in her cheeks and a glow in her pretty brown eyes.

“Well, hey there, Amanda-Lee,” I said. “You having a good time at the fair?”

She stopped and looked at herself in the mirror, smoothed a few wild curls of coppery hair back into place, then tried to get a towel out of the dispenser with one hand.

“Here, I’ll hold your fish,” I offered, and she handed me the bag with the little orange and black spotted fish inside. “Ain’t he a cute little fella?”

Amanda laughed. She had a sweet laugh. “I wondered if you ladies might want him for the beauty shop. I doubt they’ll let me take him on the plane.” She frowned at the fish, like she really didn’t want to leave him behind. “He’d probably starve to death at my apartment, anyway. I’m never home.”

“That’s kind of sad, not to be home enough to feed a fish.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said something so personal, but I was getting to feel an affection for Amanda-Lee, like she was one of my daughters-in-law, brand-new in the family. Strange how with some people, you just feel like you know them right off.

“Yeah, I guess it is, in a way.” Just for a second she had a somber look, but then she shrugged it off. “One of these days, things will slow down a little.”

She smiled, and I smiled back. “I rode the roller coaster. Three times, actually. I’m almost seventy years old, and it was one of the best things I ever did. I wish I hadn’t put it off for so long.”

Amanda-Lee took her goldfish and raised him into the air like we were toasting with fine champagne. “Here’s to life in the moment.”