probably just freak Mary out.
I’m on my own.
But maybe the fire guys have one of those trampoline-type nets from the circus to catch us when we fall.
“Careful!” I say because Mary is about to bang her head on a crossbeam because she’d have to turn around to see it.
She stops. Glares at me. I can see white flecks of dried spittle in the corners of her crooked smile. Her glasses are so thick they’re magnifying lenses that turn her brown eyes into giant hamburger patties.
“I can fly!” She looks over the edge. We’re way high up. Down below, there’s nothing but a crazy crisscross of wood.
Mary grabs one of the chaser-lightbulbs that line the railing. Squeezes it. Crushes the glass globe like it’s an eggshell.
She giggles when it shatters. I see blood in her palm.
She reaches for the next lightbulb down the line.
“Hey,” I say, “remember Ken Erb?”
Mary tilts her head sideways like a sparrow contemplating sunflower seeds. “Ken Erb?”
“He always had those bird kites. Remember? He’d bring ’em to Oak Beach. You were there. I remember. With your brothers. Watching Ken fly his kites.”
Mary smiles. “Pretty colors.”
“Yeah. And the white dove. Remember the white dove? How about the eagle? Oh, man, the eagle was awesome!”
Mary nods.
“You wanna go see ’em? You wanna go see Ken’s kites?”
Another nod.
“Okay. Here. Take hold of my hand.”
She takes it. Smiles.
“We’re going down to Oak Beach to see Ken’s kites, okay?”
“Okay.”
“But first we have to get back in the roller coaster.”
“Can we get ice cream, too?”
“Sure.” I grip her hand. It’s sticky where it’s bloody. “What’s your favorite ice cream, Mary?”
“Chocolate. With sprinkles.”
Now I’m the one walking backward. “Cool. I like sprinkles, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus, you’re a fucking pussy.” Her voice is straight out of
Okay. That caught me off guard. But Mary is still holding my hand, we’re almost back to the roller coaster car, and neither one of us is dead.
She can call me anything she wants.
The controller at his computer console down in the operations trailer was able to manipulate the track brakes in such a way that he can safely roll the coaster down to the unloading shed.
It’s like a funeral train now. Carrying the corpse of Mrs. Jackie O’Malley and twenty-nine mourners. Since there were no empty seats, Ceepak and I decide to walk down the tracks.
Okay, we could’ve climbed down that fifty-foot-long ladder to the fire truck, but I kind of voted against that option. I hate climbing a ladder to clean leaves out of a gutter.
“You handled that quite well, Danny,” Ceepak says over his shoulder as we tiptoe down a hill on the walkboard.
“Thanks. I was scared.”
“You didn’t show it.”
“Well, inside, I was freaking out.”
“Me, too.”
I laugh. “No way.”
“Trust me,” he says. “My adrenaline was pumping when Ms. O’Malley headed up that hill. I was afraid we might have two deaths to deal with this morning.”
Wow. Who knew? The big guy is human. He just knows how to hide it.
By the time we make it down to the bottom, the medics are already zipping up Mrs. O’Malley’s body bag.
A nurse of some sort-she’s dressed in those cartoon cat-and-dog scrubs pediatric nurses wear so kids don’t bawl their eyes out when they see a needle-is bracing Mary O’Malley by the elbow. Must be her full-time caregiver except for when Mary is asked to pose in happy family portraits for PR purposes.
“Well done, men,” says Mayor Sinclair, striding over to me and Ceepak. “You two handled a very difficult situation extraordinarily well. I’ll be sure to put in a good word with Chief Baines.”
He winks. Ceepak nods.
The mayor folds a stick of gum into his mouth. “We’ll close down the ride for a week. Have the grand reopening next weekend when all this is behind us.”
He flips a hand toward the roller coaster cars.
By “all this” I guess he means Mrs. O’Malley dying.
“And,” says the mayor, lowering his voice, “let’s not talk to the media today. Fortunately, most of the folks in line were locals. This thing will blow over pretty quickly. Shouldn’t impact our summer season.”
The mayor smiles. Waiting for Ceepak and me to say, “Sir, yes, sir,” or lick his boots or something.
We just stand there. Kind of grim-faced.
Somebody died this morning.
“Okay. Glad we had this chat.” The mayor surveys the small crowd clustered near the exit ramp. “Cliff? Skeeter? Hey, buddy, got a second?”
He rushes over to the DJ, who twirls around and jabs a microphone in his face.
“Mayor Sinclair. You were up there with me on the roller coaster. How did it feel to be stranded like that?”
The mayor swats at the mic as if it were an annoying little gnat.
“Turn that goddamn thing off!”
Five seconds later, on the big outdoor speakers, I hear an echo of the mayor’s words, only the “goddamn” is gone. Thank goodness for the five-second delay. Something Cliff and I could’ve used back in high school when we ran our DJ business and I dropped an F-bomb at a birthday party when an amplifier unexpectedly shocked me. It was the kid’s sixth. We were supposed to be spinning discs so he and his buddies could dance the Hokey Pokey and play musical chairs. We had not been hired to give adult vocabulary lessons.
“We should head back to the house,” says Ceepak. “Write this up.”
He’s right. There’s no longer any need for crowd control. That long line? It’s gone. The ride is shut down. Those kids wore high heels and duct-taped sandals to their shoes in vain.
We wait for the paramedics to carry Mrs. O’Malley’s body down the exit ramp to the waiting ambulance. It looks like Mr. O’Malley will ride in the back with his wife.
I see Skippy take Mary’s other elbow as he helps the nurse escort her to a parked SUV for the ride home.
“Don’t worry-I’ll handle things here,” I hear Kevin O’Malley tell his dad as the paramedics close up the barn doors on the back of their vehicle.
Ceepak and I march down the exit ramp.
“Hola, babe!”
When we hit the boardwalk, we see Sean O’Malley swilling a beer out of a brown paper bag as a hot Hispanic chick in a skimpy black bikini sashays over to join him. Sean, who has the tightly bloated look of somebody who drinks beer for breakfast, tosses his empty can into a trash barrel and wraps his arm around his
