Stepping Towards the Ledge

It had been quite some time since Farah Dubois had done anything strictly for herself. Sure, she had taken family vacations and owned frivolous baubles; but it was always for the benefit of her children or husband. So the widow figured a roller coaster ride was perfect to start her new life.

The ticket counters were chirping away when she came up. They barely noticed the 79-year-old, but she didn’t mind so much. The two staff members looked to be in their mid-to-late thirties or forties, and she doubted she would know what to say. Instead, she handed them her five-dollar entry fee and a few dollars for ride tickets, exorbitant fees compared to the cost she knew as a young girl, and quietly waited to receive her tickets. After grabbing the fistful of colorful papers, she realized she might have purchased too much for her Herculean task. After all, she was on the older side, she didn’t need to ride more than one ride to signal her new life. Deciding she’d simply think of something later, Farah set off on her journey to find the right ride.

She had always enjoyed county fairs in her youth. It was the only time everyone in her family would draw together for something less dour than a funeral; even weddings were often at gun point.

The sickly stench of hot soggy onions and sugary fried batter kicked Farah out of her reminiscing and forced her back to scoping out the scene as she trudged into the main fairway. Searing white and yellow lights blared at her from the legion of food vendors and tent shops.

The further she walked, the stronger the more pleasant smells of candied apples and lemon shake-ups came. The lights were just as many, but more varied, dimmer and less intruding. Around her children and families played games. To Farah’s left, a bright-eyed six-year-old, that reminded her of a son she hadn’t heard from since the funeral, felt the exhilaration of winning a goldfish, his first pet. Up ahead, a young couple competed in a water gun game. The girl intentionally losing to save her date’s bruised ego, knowing he will let her pick the prize anyway. Here the vendors chortled and spoke warmly with their customers. She thought of herself. A lonely old widow, so shy she can’t even banter with ticket clerks. She didn’t belong here.

On the edge of the fairgrounds there were few lights save those on the rides themselves. Only a few vendors nestled themselves here. Despite its barebones, this final destination was crammed with people from all ages and appearances. Farah practically had to squeeze herself through to get to the line for the ride. The crowd was so packed, she could feel her bones crack and strain from the compressing walls of flesh.

Everyone was sweating like mad on the fairway’s edge. Pushing through the sea of man flab, she found the end of the line, protruding outside of the invisible border between the fair and the open fields surrounding it. Behind the roller coaster, Farah could see everything the fairgrounds was surrounded by. Off in the distance shined the once glamourous light of the city she had lived in. If she had the courage to ride this roller coaster, maybe she could finally go and do something other than sit at home feeling her faculties fade. Farah threw such fantasies out of her mind, first thing was first. She turned to the roller coaster.

From the outside she couldn’t perceive much, only the warm green glow of a light inside. It looked like someone cut a round room out of a house and placed it upon a pedestal. In neon green lettering stood the roller coaster’s name, “Gravitron.” A small booth facing the opening held the operator, a blonde girl in her twenties with a look of sober determination to be done with this day.

“I like your hair,” came a small, but loud, voice from behind Farah.

She turned to find a young girl, ten if she was a day, beaming excitedly at her. Her hair was fighting its way out of her pigtails, beads of happy sweat stained her glasses, and a small belt of tickets clenched firmly within her small sweat-drenched hands. Recalling a distant memory of a nurse that used to be her young daughter, Farah muttered a soft, “thank you” and took another step forward in the line. She felt her hair absent mindedly checking that, yes indeed, it was still in the usual bob cut she wore since her third date with Jeffery. He had said her hair was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

The girl kept right up dragging what appeared to be her mother. The mother seemed more interested in chatting up someone behind her than making sure her daughter didn’t speak to strangers. Accepting her quick answer as someone eager to listen, the girl spoke to Farah with barely contained enthusiasm.

“My name’s Bonita, but you can call me Nita, that’s what mom calls me. Have you been on this roller coaster yet?” she asked.

Farah gently shook her head. “I can’t say I have, Nita. I haven’t been on a roller coaster in quite some time.” The day’s walking starting to get to her legs.

“Well, I’ve been on this ride five times already, it’s really cool. You just spin and spin and spin; and you don’t have to wear any belt cause you go so fast you stay in place.” the girl continued as Farah contemplated the ride itself.

No safety harness was madness, she thought as the machine started up. The roller coaster just sat there for a moment before it began to spin, faster and faster. Before Farah’s eyes, the ride lifted up and tipped over as if to dump the passengers out like lemonade from a pitcher, all the while spinning ungodly fast. The screams coming from the machine were both joyous and shocked. All in all, it was too much and Farah turned to leave, nearly bumping into the little girl. She barely came up to Farah’s belly button, and was less than an eighth her age. Yet this bespectacled child held no fear for this mechanic monstrosity.

Her innocent courage shamed her. Had it really been so long since Farah took any kind of risk? A voice in her head advised that Nita was young and less prone to serious injury. You’re too old to do anything. Get used to it said the voice; but Farah was compelled to rebellion. Could she really hope to begin life anew if she couldn’t handle one little old ride? In that moment, Farah turned to face the music as she came up to the operator and handed her four tickets to her.

Stepping up the hollow metal stairs and into the roller coasters seating area, Farah’s heart pounded out through her ears. The Gravitron was different from the rest of the rides in two ways; the first being the seats. Simply put, there were none. Rather, Farah was led to a coffin of bars and padding, with a chain link clipped across the bar railing of each “seat” for a safety belt. Farah eased herself in and gingerly dragged the chain across and rested her arms on the link until the ride started. Secondly, the fiery green lights that usually shone on the outside of the other rides sat upon a pillar in the center of the room-like station they were all in.

She was relieved to see Nita drag her mother up to a pair of spots that were together. Family should be together. No sooner had she relaxed, the ride started. The Gravitron was slow only for a few turns, before revving up and making Farah feel her skin pull back. The fog green light bulbs on the central pillar transformed from glowing orbs into a solid ring of glowing fluorescence. Their strangely calming glow had turned into the mad dash of fireflies in a tumble dryer. Yet Farah felt no anxiety, in fact she felt a calm come over her. The machine swiftly picked up enough speed that the wind kept everyone in their coffin seats without any need of safety belts, for few of them could even move their limbs the gravitational pull was forcing them back with such ferocity.

Farah was soon thankful as the floor beneath her fell apart. The room lifted up in the air on its side, giving those that could turn their heads a peculiar view of the fairgrounds. The ancient steel around her groaned with each turn. Farah’s heartbeats had longed since left her ears and had been replaced by a sunken feeling in her abdomen. White noise and ringing filled her ears as she looked all around. There was nothing holding her up but the thing at her back; her feet did not dangle, but flew through the air. Her earrings dragged her ears behind her with the determination of a drunken mule. Her arms were welded to the rails she gripped. Her breath was shallow and held in as long as possible before petering out raggedly. Farah could almost swear she heard herself mumble prayers in tongues.

The whole world had disappeared into a blurred soup of green lights and darkness. The only things that remained absolute were the people in the ride with her; every one of them smiling through compressed skin and squinted eyes. Farah felt herself grinning as wide as possible given the circumstance.

As the ride slowed down and lowered itself once more, all the participants felt themselves morph into old shapes. While Nita’s hand loosened its grip on her mother’s hand; Farah’s body slowly pried itself off of its cot and returned to its hunched over frame that showed her age. But what the body had remembered, the mind had long forgotten. What seemed like bounding out to her, came out as an odd little hopping dance as the old lady tottered off the ride and into the midway once more. Feeling new air in her antique lungs, Farah reasoned she might hang around the fair after all and try a few games. Fishing into her pockets, she felt the leftover ride tickets. Why, she had enough to ride eight more times. She tottered back in line.

This time she was behind Nita and her mother; and Farah took the time to look about. Most of them were like her; single folk, friends, couples, and the occasional parent and child pairings. This was her Elysium, Farah decided. It was only a shame that she could not be here forever.

The second time Farah felt the same thrill but it was fleeting. Repetition made the joy last less. After getting off, Farah decided she did not want to ride again. This still presented the issue of what to do with all of her tickets; it seemed like a waste to just throw them all away. Just then, Farah saw Nita with her mother, and the old woman flagged them down.

“Excuse me miss, are you and your daughter planning on being here much longer?” inquired Farah.

“Uh, yeah? I guess, why?”

“I have a few more tickets I don’t need and I thought your daughter might appreciate them more.”

Without accepting an answer, Farah handed the mother the remaining tickets, save a few for Farah to have one more ride. Nita’s mother turned to her daughter.

“What do you say Nita?”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Nita said quickly, running back to the line, dragging her laughing mother behind.

As Farah walked off, absent-mindedly waving good-bye, pondering what was next. Of course there was no need to rush, she had all the time in the world.