The Theme Park That Wasn’t

Jamie was thrilled and devastated at the same time. He was thrilled that this was the last week of school before summer vacation. He was devastated that he still had to wait a whole week for summer vacation. This was going to be the best vacation of his 12 years of life.

“I don’t even know why we have school this week,” he said, trying to get his parents to grant him permission to take the rest of the week off. “We took our last test today. All assignments have been turned in. I have straight A’s in all of my classes. I’ve even completed so much extra credit work that my teachers told me not to do any more. There’s no way I could mess up my grades by not coming in.” He paused for a second. “Oh! I already missed perfect attendance that week I had the flu. Nothing is lost by staying home the rest of the week.”

He made valid points, so his parents let him talk. They listened to everything he had to say. But in the end, the fact was that missing school was out of the question. If homeschooling had been available the week he was sick, he would have attended.

“You’re going to school,” his mother said. “That’s final.”

He had a lot more to say, but he knew that whenever his parents used the phrase That’s final, that’s exactly what it meant. Drop the subject. Do not bring it up again. The punishment for doing so would be great.

If either of his parents had spoken to their parents that way when they were young, a belt, a shoe, or a hand would have come flying with great speed and force. Jamie would have welcomed that punishment happily. He knew the family vacation to Viking Village—a brand-new theme park—was opening next week, and they had five-day premium tickets to the gate-opening ceremonies. These tickets granted access to many behind-the-scenes experiences that most customers would never see. They also had Line Jump passes to ensure they got on the rides first. He knew that if he did anything to upset his parents, he would end up spending that week with his grandparents.

Jamie enjoyed spending time with his grandparents, but this would not be fun. It would be seven full days of no TV, no video games, no internet. They would take his cell phone, his tablet, and all other electronics. These would be replaced with an old-fashioned flip phone and an e-reader. Nobody deserved that. So, the only thing he said was, “Yes, ma’am.” Anything else would have been disastrous.

The next day at school, all anyone could talk about was Viking Village.

“I heard they have a ride called the Abyss,” Bobby said. “It blasts you twenty stories high at a near 90-degree angle and then drops you twenty stories underground.”

“I heard they have a Sling-Shot ride that you need a parachute to ride,” said Mary. “They shoot you so far that you land a mile away.”

“I heard they have a ride called the Land Mower. It can chop your head off if you’re too tall,” said Mike.

“Did you hear about the Mach 10?” asked Taylor. “I heard it goes from zero to Mach 1 in less than a second. Then it builds up to Mach 10 over the next three seconds—and then comes to an abrupt stop.”

This conversation continued for all four of the remaining days of school. It didn’t matter whether the stories were true or not. These rides sounded pretty deadly if you asked me. But Jamie’s excitement couldn’t be any stronger. He had dreamed about Viking Village for the last six months, ever since he first heard about it. And now the day to leave was approaching.

On Sunday, the family loaded into the van: two parents and five kids. Jamie was the oldest. The eight-hour drive to the hotel was enough to drive anyone stone nuts. The crying baby and whining toddlers were almost too much for him to take. The only thing that saved him were thoughts of riding the Abyss or the Sling-Shot. However, those thoughts did not allow him to sleep that night.

When the morning came, he cleaned himself up, got dressed, and promptly fell asleep at the breakfast table. Nayla, his five-year-old sister, woke him up by smacking him with a sippy cup.

As soon as they started to drive away, the excitement returned. He was hardly able to sit still, bouncing up and down. His excitement spread to his brothers and sisters, and soon they were bouncing up and down too.

They arrived at the parking lot of a large building. He didn’t see any roller coasters sticking out above the building. He didn’t hear any screams. All of the noises and sights of your average theme park were missing.

“What is this?” Jamie asked.

“Viking Village,” his father said.

Jamie could see pictures of Vikings painted on the outside of the building, but nothing was as stunning as he had expected.

The inside of the building had a little more “wow” to it, but where was the Abyss? Where was the Sling-Shot? Where were the rides?

His father took him to a large room with a few roller coaster carts. “Take a seat,” the operator said as he handed him a pair of VR goggles. His ten-year-old brother, Gary, was with him. They all sat down, put the goggles on, and enjoyed a virtual ride.

They tried almost every ride on the first day. In the end, Jamie admitted that he did have fun, but it wasn’t what he wanted. The excitement was gone. He had nothing to look forward to for the next four days.

On the second day, though, something changed. He noticed Gary laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his seat during a VR battle. Nayla squealed with joy every time she got to swing a pretend axe like a Viking warrior. Even his parents, usually too tired for theme park activities, smiled and played along.

By the fourth day, Jamie realized something he hadn’t expected. The rides may not have been real, but the memories were. The Abyss and the Sling-Shot might have been cooler the way he imagined, but they couldn’t beat his little sister tugging his arm, begging, “Jamie, ride with me again!”

When the family packed up to leave, Jamie glanced back at the painted Vikings on the building. He still wished the roller coasters had been real, but he couldn’t help but smile. The best part of Viking Village hadn’t been the rides at all. It had been the people riding with him.