We got out of the car and stepped into a chilling breeze. There were not many cars in the parking lot, which I supposed boded well for wait times. Walking down a jack-o-lantern lined path, we bought our tickets from a rather lackluster grim reaper.
"Have a haunting time," he yawned, passing me the tickets through the window. "May all your nightmares come true."
"That ray of sunshine was actually the Apathetic Harvester," I whispered to Robin. "The Grim Reaper's unassuming younger brother."
Robin threw her head back and laughed a genuine belly laugh.
"Have a haunting time," Jon whispered sinisterly into my ear.
"What do you think he meant by that?" Nina asked, joining up with us inside the gate. Somebody really needed to check the warning labels on those perm fumes.
"Where to first?" Jon asked, looking around at the low-budget horrors around us.
To our left stood a crooked scarecrow with a less-than-menacing face. Its eyes flickered red every time somebody passed and after every third person, it would cackle menacingly. Except that the batteries needed replacing, so the laugh quickly faded to a gurgle.
Dilapidated bats hung from trees along the path. Their wings were threadbare with age and they looked more musty than they did spooky. It was a comical introduction to Fear Festival.
"I think we should start with the fun house." Robin pointed to the two-story building to our right.
A not-so-horrifying gatekeeper ushered us inside a dimly lit room lined with mirrored walls. Fake candles flickered in endless reflections and smoke-machine fog rolled over the floor. As we inched through the mirrored room, it gradually grew darker. Soon, we were in total darkness, save for the flickering of the fake candles.
Except for our footsteps and breathing, no sounds could be heard. As we pressed forward through the darkness, a constant grinding and creaking drifted toward us. Robin's hand found mine and she held tight, obviously getting scared.
Just as I found the end of the mirrors, a large figure cloaked in black lunged at me.
I don't know who shrieked louder—her or me—but I dragged Robin behind me taking off at a run. I stopped shortly after, my heart pounding. I was breathing hard, not from exhaustion but from terror. How had that caught me so off-guard?
Jon and Nina caught up to us, Jon laughing hard at my reaction. Admittedly, it had been funny.
Once we had collected ourselves, we climbed the stairs toward the grinding and creaking. Ahead of us hung an old wooden bridge. On the other side was one of those tunnels that spins and makes it difficult to walk through.
I crossed the bridge first, nervous and thinking how absurd it was to be nervous; this place had to pass all kinds of inspections. Right?
Robin crossed next, followed by Nina. Jon slowly made his way across, sweat beading on his forehead.
"You okay, baby?" Nina called with genuine concern. She had probably never seen Jon vulnerable. Few people had seen anything but the invulnerable Jon.
"Yeah. I'm coming," He called back, strained.
"Is he okay?" Robin asked, her fingers still laced in mine.
"Yeah," I smiled, having forgotten. "Jon's just afraid of heights. Seeing the floor down there is really freaking him out."
It seemed like a lifetime passed, but tiptoe by tiptoe, Jon finally made it across. This time, he was the one who had to catch his breath. But I didn't laugh.
"Acrophobia, the fear of heights, only affects between two and five percent of people on the planet." I comforted Jon. "And most of them are women."
"Not helping," Jon laughed, finally, punching me in the arm.
So we headed onward, slipping our way through the spinning tunnel—the source of the grinding noise.
We crossed into a room with black walls. As we entered, the lights went out and a strobe light began flashing quickly. The effect was disorienting; everything looked like a stop-motion film in the rapid blinking.
As I reached the exit door, I heard a loud pop followed by Nina's shrill shriek. Laughter—cynical laughter—followed and I turned to see the scariest clown I had ever seen. It had appeared out of nowhere.
Instinctively, I ran, diving head first into the metal slide that extended back to the ground floor. Falling onto my head out of the slide, I laughed harder than I ever had.
Robin, Nina, and Jon followed and we lay in a heap for a while, laughing and panting. For a place with a crooked scarecrow and decaying bats, this place had really delivered.
"We're going to try out the rollercoaster," Jon announced, at last. Fear dropped in my stomach like a stone. I had never been on a rollercoaster. But crane number 174 was Ride a rollercoaster. So I shrugged and followed Jon to the blacked out Rolling Screamer.
The line was surprisingly long, considering the pitiful amount of cars in the parking lot. Unfortunately, that just made my dread-filled wait that much longer.
At a snail's pace, we inched our way forward, jack-o-lanterns flickering along the path, their permanent grins silently judging me.
"Calm down," Robin took my hand. "You're shaking. Nobody has ever died because of the Rolling Screamer." She smiled at me.
"Yeah, man, don't be such a girl." Jon nodded, being met by matching glares from Nina and Robin. "I mean. Uh. You know what I mean."
After an eternity of terror—which probably wasn't an entire five minutes—it was our turn to board a car and be shot into total, gut-twisting darkness. The bar clicked into place and I sat totally rigid, sweat trickling down my face. And possibly tears. I honestly couldn't tell if I was crying and I was glad it was dark so Robin couldn't see me. I couldn't release my death grip on the lap bar.
The car jerked to a start and machinery began clinking as we started to ascend a high rise. We reached the top of the climb and, for a moment, I could see the beautiful skyline of the city in the distance. I was in awe for a moment; it felt like I was on top of the world.
And then the world dropped out from under me. A yelp, a whimper, and finally a scream escaped my throat as we plummeted toward the ground. I heard Jon and Robin laughing in pure joy as Nina and I yelled for our lives.
We took a sharp turn, jarring my body to the left, and then again to the right. Children behind me were laughing excitedly as I held so tightly to the lap bar I was afraid I'd have blisters.
All of a sudden, everything went dark; the stars and moon and skyline disappeared as our car entered a tunnel. Two tight barrel rolls and another scream later, we emerged, the amusement park glowing neon below us.
"We're almost done," Robin said, comfortably. I had to struggle to hear over the sound of the wind roaring in our ears. We were in the front of the row of coaster cars; I was getting an amazing view of things. Unfortunately, that meant I also got a view of the giant loop just before we entered it.
We shot through the loop, slowing at the top. We seemed to hover, suspended upside-down for much longer than I would have liked. Finally, an eternity later, we propelled forward and docked back at the loading zone.
I got off the ride panting and pale. I honestly wanted to cry, my legs felt like jelly. But I stood strong, supporting myself with the guardrail as I climbed down the stairs. As I climbed and panted and fought tears, I felt a giant grin spreading across my face. I had burned through so many of my cranes that night.
And it had been so organic, so natural. I'd had the time of my life and only one thing could have made it better.
I wrapped my hands around Robin's waist and pulled her close to me. Her eyes sparkled in the flashing neon of the amusement park attractions and the scent of her shampoo--coconuts and vanilla--filled the air around me. I breathed in deeply, the world disappearing until it was just Robin and me existing in our own universe.
A breath caught in her throat as I leaned in to kiss the girl of my dreams. I brushed her hair back, my thumb stopping to rest on her cheek and my fingers on the back of her neck. As our lips met, electricity coursed through my body. Her arms rested on my body, one on my shoulder and one on my waist. Where our bodies met, fire surged.
Time stood still. All sound vanished and butterflies turned into fireworks. Everything cheesy movies and country songs said was true. A good first kiss felt exactly like they all described.
Finally, we tore ourselves apart and stared into each other's eyes. I didn't know what to say, so I smiled goofily. I don't think she knew what to say, either. So we just sat and stared at each other, giggling and grinning like the fools-in-love that we were.