Short Stories

Michael Fedo: The Carnival

   An attendant came over and strapped them both in.  The straps covered most of the body and were fastened very tightly.  Jerry found breathing difficult.

"That'll hold you, Shorty," the attendant said, as he finished with Jerry.  Jerry noticed that the attendant wore thick-soled boots and carried heavy gloves in his back pocket.

   The announcement was made, stating that the ride would last only ninety seconds.  It was everyone for himself.  The announcer then wished the riders good luck, and the motor started. 

   It rumbled and coughed, then gained momentum as it lifted the apparatus and its occupants into the air.  It picked up speed now, and the low rumble became a violent roar.

   Jerry felt his stomach know beneath the straps holding him.  He hoped he wasn't going to be sick.

   The roar was deafening.  Jerry screamed, but no sound seemed to come from his lips.  Lightning cracked all around him, coming so close he thought he could feel its intense heat.

   Then suddenly the roar subsided, and the huge metal wheel was gently eased onto its base.  The attendant unstrapped Jerry and the young man next to him.  The young man didn't move, and the two men came over to take him from the seat.

   Jerry bounded quickly down the ramp. "I did it! I made it on my first try!" he shrieked, half-stumbling back onto the midway.

   A uniformed statistician smiled at Jerry's exuberance, and continued with his work. In the "Departure" column on the paper in front of him, he added another check.

   Jerry wanted to shout his success; he wanted to run, but there was no room on the crowded midway.

   What's so tough about this anyway?  Jerry thought.  If you take a positive approach, you'll overcome it.

   He had easily met the challenge of this first ride—the one everybody had said would be the roughest.  Well, he had come through, almost without flinching.

   The taste of this kind of success was something he had not known before.  He felt so exhilarated that he giggled in spite of himself.

   He would try his luck again after he had some food.  He walked over to a refreshment stand and bought two hot dogs.  "I've just been on the Thunder Clapper," he told the concessionaire.

"That's living pretty dangerously," the man said.

"Is there any other way?"  Jerry asked lightly, paying for the food.

   He ate rapidly, anxious to get back into action.  Although he reveled in his achievement, he knew that he could really prove his mettle only by continuing to accept the challenge.  As soon as he had swallowed the last bite, he joined a red-haired boy about his own age in the line for the Whirl-Away.

   The other boy smiled and told Jerry that this was to be his first ride.

"This is nothing," Jerry told him, "I've just come off the Thunder-Clapper."

   The red haired boy's eyes widened with admiration. "I think this will be just as tough," he said, without conviction.

"I doubt it," Jerry scoffed. "But it'll probably help build your confidence."

   The thrill seekers were led to their places by the Whirl-Away attendance, and strapped into the spokes of the machine in upright standing positions.

   Again, there was an announcement over the public address system.  It was the usual drivel that Jerry hardly heard.

   Jerry was relaxed: a calm smile played over his lips.  He settled back, ready to enjoy this new experience to the fullest.

   The Whirl-Away began to vibrate, its engines whooshing like a great wind storm.  The structure throbbed and gained speed until the passengers near the rim were moving at about two hundred miles.

   Jerry was thinking of the stories he'd tell his classmates at school tomorrow.  How he took on the Thunder Clapper and the Whirl-Away, straight off.  "You take the meanest ones first," he would tell them.

   The Whirl-Away, spinning at an ever-increasing, rose three hundred feet off the ground.

   Jerry became aware of a dizzy sensation.  The then sense of motion ceased, and suddenly he was free of movement and sound.  He was in the air, hurtling headlong downward.  "It isn't fair!" he tried to shout.  "They said one in eight—one in eight!"

   Men from the pit moved into position with their black plastic bags.  But Jerry did not see them; nor was he conscious when he ceased to be—approaching the earth, meeting it face to face at almost the speed of sound.