Never Eighteen

by Megan Bostic

  Peggy automatically grabs a plate, places four cookies on it, and pours two glasses of milk, just as she does every time I visit. Kaylee and I sit down at the counter.

  "So, Austin, how are you doing?" she asks. She places her elbows on the counter and leans in as if I'm the most interesting person on the face of the earth.

  "Some days are good. Some aren't. Today is okay. How about you?"

  "Some days are good. Some aren't. Today is better now that you're here," she says. "I'm getting old, you know. Gravity and pain are taking me over."

  "You're not that old. You can't be a day over forty," I tease, knowing full well that she's at least sixty-five.

  "Oh, Austin, you little charmer, you. You sure know how to make an old lady feel young again. You look good," she says as she eyes me up and down. "Doesn't he look good?" she asks Helen, who has just trailed us into the kitchen.

  "Oh, yeah, real good," Helen says, though she barely looks at me. I can tell she's lying.

  "Such a handsome young man," Peggy compliments.

  "Thanks," I say. I feel my face redden, even though I know that's just something old ladies say.

  "Tell me what's going on with you. What are you two up to today?"

  "I have some things I need to take care of these next couple of days. Kaylee's agreed to drive me around."

  Peggy nods and wears an expression that I've been witness to too much lately. Profound sadness. I've seen it at home, in the hallways at school, when I hang out with friends. I can't get used to it. And sometimes? It just plain pisses me off.

  Kaylee and I eat the cookies while Peggy tells stories of her latest vacation to Rome. There's never a quiet moment when Peggy's around, which is fine with me. I love listening to her talk, hearing her stories about old times and distant places. My weekly visits with her are a nice distraction.

  When the cookies are gone and the story ends, I say, "We have a lot to do. We really gotta go."

  She walks us to the door, and while she gives me another crushing hug, I say, "Will you do me a favor?"

  She backs off, yet still clings to my shoulders. "Well, of course. Anything for you."

  "Will you call your daughter?"

  "I don't know about that, Austin," she answers.

  "I need you to. Please?"

  She stares at me a minute, then says, "Yes, of course."

  "Thanks, Peggy. See you soon?"

  "Of course you will." She looks in my eyes and adds, "And would it kill you to call me Grandma?"

  I smirk. "No, of course not. Goodbye, Grandma," I say. It's kind of funny, yet I find myself feeling sentimental, close to tears.

  She releases me from her grasp, smiles, and says, "I love you, Austin."

  I return the smile. "I love you too, Grandma." She watches us out the door, off the porch, down the steps, all the way into Kaylee's car. She waves as we drive away.

  "You okay? You look kind of soft and mushy," Kaylee asks.

  I laugh away any sentiment I felt. "Shut up and drive."

  "I'm kind of driving aimlessly at the moment. Where to now?"

  "The fair."

  "The fair? We're going to the fair?"

  "Yeah, just for a little while. I have a couple of things I want to do there."

  "Do I get to get out of the car again?" she asks.

  "Of course."

  "Well, I wouldn't want to presume," she says in a snobby voice.

  "Kaylee, I need you there. I'm going to need some moral support."

  "Moral support, huh? Okay, I'm in," she says. She turns left and heads to the freeway.

  The Puyallup Fair comes just once a year a couple weeks after school starts. It's one of the most attended events in all of Pierce County, Washington. Rides, food, rodeo, exhibits, and concerts—you could spend an entire week there. However, I have only one reason for going to the fair this year: to face my fears.

  Chapter Seven

  There we stand, looking toward the sky, up to the grand tower above us. "You sure you want to do this?" Kaylee asks.

  "Uh, yeah. I think. I mean, yes, definitely," I say, looking up at the most frightening thing at the Puyallup Fair, the Extreme Scream, the ultimate experience in speed and height, the latter of which I'm terrified.

  The line is long, as always. This ride alone costs ten bucks, a small price to pay to face your greatest fear, get past it, move forward. Twenty stories high, thrusting at three Gs on the way up, negative one on the way down, this ride has haunted me for years. Friends have stood in this very line every year, teasing me, begging me to ride with them. Me, I'm always too scared to join them. Not this year, not anymore.

  Kaylee grabs my shaking hand and lays her head on my arm in comfort. My heart races, from both the anticipation of the ride and Kaylee's warmth beside me. She smells like cherry, not the real fruit cherry smell, but that processed cherry scent you find in shampoo, and lip balm, and Life Savers. I'd like to kiss her lips right now and see if they taste like cherry too, but I'm so nervous already, the thought makes me want to throw up.

  The line moves so slowly, as if mocking me, trying to get me to give up, to leave. Not gonna happen. I watch as the riders before me shoot up into the air, hair flying, screaming, and know I'll be screaming like a girl when it's my turn.

  We finally get to the front of the line. I set my camera to video and ask a woman who reminds me of my mother if she'll film our ride. She agrees. Kaylee and I remove our shoes and put them in the cubbyholes, find two empty seats next to each other, and strap ourselves in. Kaylee grabs my hand again, assuring me that I won't die, right here, on the Extreme Scream. The ride attendants come by and check everyone's harnesses, belts, and buckles to make sure they're secure. Like that's going to help if my seat flies up and off the tracks, shoots into the air, out over the ride, and then plummets down onto the pavement beneath, killing me instantly. I try to push that thought from my mind.

  The countdown begins ... ten, nine, eight ... Kaylee lets go of my hand and grabs on to her harness. I give her my best "What the hell?" look and she giggles. Seven, six, five ... I'm now aware of the need to hold on for dear life, so I too grab my harness with a death grip ... four, three, two ... I close my eyes, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in. One ... we shoot up the tower at what feels like the speed of light. I feel helpless, dangling, with no control of my limbs. Just as I thought, I scream like a little girl, flailing, and praying to God I don't piss my pants. The ride stops as suddenly as it started, at the top of the tower. I open my eyes, take in the view of the fairgrounds below me, trying desperately not to freak out. When we plunge back down, my stomach drops to my knees and my mouth goes dry. Up and down again, up and down, slowing with each phase, until the ride finally ends and we are safely back on the earth. I'm finally able to let out my breath. I want to lie face-down and hug the ground, thank it for being so solid, and still.

  When my feet hit the earth, my knees buckle and I nearly collapse. Kaylee and one of the attendants grab me and hold me up.

  "You okay, man?" the attendant asks. He looks just like a fair attendant should, big, bald, missing some teeth, a clichéd tattoo on his gigantic bicep— MOM in a red heart. I'm sure if he were to bend over, we'd get a view of his butt crack as well. He reeks of cigarettes and whiskey, disconcerting for someone who has just put his life in this man's hands. The stench makes me nauseous. I run to a nearby garbage can and puke, a horrible waste of cookies.

  Kaylee looks at me and can't help but laugh at my expense. I wipe my mouth and laugh with her.

  "Is it everything you thought it would be?" she asks.

  "And more," I answer.

  I grab my camera from the woman and we walk around for a bit, check out the exhibits and the animals to let my stomach settle. When I'm ready I say, "Let's get lunch."

  "Lunch?" She chuckles. "You sure? Are you ready?"

  "Yeah, I'm starved; I just lost my breakfast and cookies all in one shot." She laughs again. I love making her laugh. Her dimples show, her che
eks turn red. Just a second of her laughter can get me through my darkest day. We head toward the food vendors.

  "What will it be?" Kaylee asks. "Earthquake Burger? Krusty Pup? Or do you want to go straight to dessert with an elephant ear, deep-fried Twinkie, or a scone? Name your grease-ridden-fatty-heart-attack-waiting-to-happen food of choice."

  "I want that," I say, pointing to the Barbecue Pete's booth.

  "Sounds good to me. I loves me some barbecue," she says.

  We head over to the booth, built to resemble an Old West saloon. Kaylee orders some chicken and corn on the cob. She steps aside to let me order.

  "I'd like some buffalo chicken wings, that chipotle coleslaw, an order of fries ... oh, and the largest Coke you've got."

  "Are you crazy?" Kaylee says laughing. "You hate hot!"

  "I want to see how much I can take. I want to feel the burn. You only live once, you know." Kaylee looks at me with sad eyes. We grab our food and head to an open table.

  She digs right in to her chicken, but I hesitate, a bit apprehensive about the heat I'm getting ready to stick in my mouth. Do I want to begin with the hottest item on my plate, which I imagine is the buffalo chicken, or should I start with the coleslaw and ease my way into the hot? The Coke and fries are strictly for balance.

  "What are you waiting for? Let the pain begin," she says, corn kernels flying out of her mouth.

  "I think I'll start with the chicken," I say.

  "Your funeral," she says. She looks into my face; I smile, instantly easing her discomfort. She smiles back sweetly.

  "Here, you have to film it." I hold out the Cyber-shot to her. She wipes her hands, then aims the camera.

  I pick up a piece of the chicken, study it carefully, take a lick of the sauce with the very tip of my tongue, grimace, and put it back down on my plate. "This is not going to be easy," I joke.

  "You wuss. Just do it." She giggles as she says it.

  "Okay. Here it goes." I pick the chicken back up and quickly tear off a piece of the well-soaked, saucy meat. I chew quickly, the heat radiating quickly from my tongue to the sides and top of my mouth to the back of my throat. My face heats up and I could swear my eyeballs are sweating. I swallow, fanning my hand in front of my mouth until I get ahold of my Coke. I take a huge swig.

  "You should see your face, Austin. It's classic," Kaylee says.

  "Holy shit, that was hot!" I yell, earning disapproving looks from all the parents within earshot.

  I take a few deep breaths, and after my mouth cools down a bit, I reach for my fork and dig in to the coleslaw.

  "Are you crazy?" Kaylee asks. "You're still going to try that even after the chicken?"

  "I'm on a mission—what can I say?" I look at the fork briefly, inhale deeply, and shove it into my mouth. I chew, once again as quickly as possible. I couldn't have been more wrong. The slaw is about four times hotter than the chicken. Heat travels from my head down through my internal organs and out to my limbs. Surely flames will shoot out my fingers and toes at any second. My lips as well as the inside of my mouth are in a painful blaze. I wouldn't be surprised if the whites of my eyes glowed red. I down the rest of my soda and push the hot items toward Kaylee.

  "They're all yours," I say as I pull the fries toward me and shove one in my mouth.

  Kaylee, a bottomless pit, has already eaten her chicken and corn, yet eats my wings and slaw without incident. She then helps me with my fries, licks her lips, and lets out a big burp.

  "Nice rip," I compliment.

  "Thanks."

  "A couple more rides, then we head out?" I ask.

  "Sure."

  There are only two I want to go on, the first being the roller coaster. When you go to the fair, it's blasphemous not to hit the roller coaster at least once. It's my favorite ride. I love the way the wind hits your face, and the anxiousness you feel as you climb the hills, the way your stomach plummets into your bowels on the way down. It makes you feel young, alive, free. It's easy to lose yourself, to forget, on the roller coaster.

  My other choice is the haunted house. I don't scare easily, but I know Kaylee does. It's not the visuals that make a haunted house. True, it's scary when things jump out at you, but not half as scary without the sound effects—the moaning, the screaming, the creaking. That's the difference between scary and terrifying.

  We climb into our car and pull the lock down. It jerks to life, heads down the track, and through the double doors. It's dark, so dark we can't even see each other. An ugly mummified face shoots out at us. I feel Kaylee's body twitch as she screams. I can't help but laugh.

  "Austin!" she screams, and slugs me in the arm.

  Face after hideous, chilling, menacing face comes at us, and Kaylee's body shudders and jolts with each one. I put my arm around her and pull her in. She lays her head down on my shoulder and takes my other hand in hers on my lap. I feel my body start to react to her; my heart feels as though it will tear through my chest. I turn toward her; she's so close, I can hear her breathe. I kiss the top of her head. She shifts beside me. Through the green, blue, and black lights, I see her turn her face up toward mine. I bend in for that kiss I've waited so long for. Just as our lips are about to join, our car bursts through the doors at the end of the ride, an ambush of bright sun blinding us.

  We quickly jump back from and stare at each other for a moment. Then Kaylee bursts out laughing. I follow suit, though I'm really dying inside. Being so close to that kiss ... it's heartbreaking. I guess sometimes people will do things in the dark that maybe they won't in the light.

  We continue, though it's hard for me to concentrate, but it's Kaylee's turn to pick rides. She likes the spinning ones, so after enjoying (or not) rides such as the Matterhorn, the Zipper, the Enterprise, and the Octopus, I'm done. I have to put my foot down at the Ferris wheel.

  "You ready to go?" I ask. I've had enough "fun" at the fair. "If you are." We head out of the fairgrounds and back to Candy, who is patiently waiting in the straw-covered parking lot to take us to our next stop.

  Chapter Eight

  "Next destination?" Kaylee asks.

  "Allie."

  "Jesus, Austin."

  "Kaylee, can you please just try to understand?"

  She stares into my eyes with ... I don't know what: maybe sympathy, maybe insight. She's so beautiful. I think again about our almost-kiss, what I wouldn't give to do it all over. If I had only put my arm around her earlier. Sometimes my stupidity amazes even me. I'd try again, but when she laughed, it was as if it were all some terrible joke. Maybe I misread her, though. Maybe I'll try again later. Yes, later, I promise myself. She puts the key in the ignition, lets out a large sigh, and starts the car.

  She doesn't speak all the way to Allie's house; I wonder what she's thinking. She probably thinks I'm nuts to try to do all of this in a day, or the weekend, however long it takes. Deep down I know she gets it. She gets my need to fix things that have broken along the way, to mend fences. Maybe if we all just tried to put the pieces back together as soon as they fell out of place, the puzzles in our lives would feel more like an accomplishment than a chore.

  Kaylee pulls up to the curb in front of Allie's house. I turn to get out of the car, but Kaylee stops me. "Are you sure about this one?" she asks.

  "I'm sure."

  "She's not the same, you know. She's not the Allie we used to know."

  "Yes, she is. Deep down, I think she is. I want to try to bring that Allie out again."

  "What if you can't, Austin? You can't help everyone."

  "At least I'll know I tried."

  "I sure hope you know what you're doing," she says.

  "I don't. But I know what I'm trying to do. Is that good enough?"

  "I don't know, Austin. Just go. Go about your business. I'll be sitting here in the car, alone, if you need me."

  I exit the car, head up the walk to the front door, and ring the bell. Allie answers. She's definitely not the Allie I used to know. That Allie was cute, lively, fun, and
a bit fat. This Allie is dark, depressed, gaunt, and thin. Too thin.

  "Austin, dude, what are you doing here?" she says. She reeks of pot.

  "I wanted to see you."

  "See me? Why? I mean, no offense, but we haven't exactly been best buds for a while."

  "That was your choice," I remind her.

  "So it was." She nods. "Who's in the car?" She motions toward Candy.

  "Kaylee."

  "Are you guys like boyfriend-girlfriend now?"

  "No, just friends."

  She eyes Kaylee out in the car as if trying to see something more than I've told her. She always did have a keen intuition, a knack for reading people. She looks back to me, gives a knowing look, nods, and says, "Why is she waiting in the car?"

  "Because I asked her to."

  She looks at me suspiciously now. I think maybe she'll turn me away. Instead she says, "Come in.

  "I'd offer you something to drink or eat, but the cupboards are pretty bare. Mom doesn't shop worth a shit anymore, and, well, you know my dad's never home. You want to sit?"

  "Sure." I take a seat on the couch. She sits down next to me. I survey the room carefully. It looks the same—the country décor, the pig collection in the corner—but there's something different about it, something not quite right. The air. I don't mean oxygen; I mean atmosphere. It's suffocating, as if at any moment I'll be gasping for breath. I shake it off, get down to the reason I'm here.

  "So, how've you been, Allie?"

  She stares at me blankly, as if I've not said anything at all. An awkward silence hangs between us. She finally speaks. "You know how I've been, Austin. I've been shit." She reaches over to the side table and grabs a little plastic bag. She takes a pill from the bag and begins to scrape the outer coating off with her fingernail. "So, what's up, Austin? Why are you here? What's with the visit?"

  I'm mesmerized by her actions. She wraps the scraped pill in a piece of paper and places it on the coffee table in front of us. Grabbing a lighter, she pounds it on the paper over and over. "Austin?"