by Amy Ephron
“That’s it, then,” said Aunt Evie, handing them each a twenty-pound note, which equaled more than twenty dollars. “I know it seems like a lot, but what if you get hungry, sometimes popcorn even costs two pounds! Ridiculous, if you ask me. Popcorn.” And then she said something so Aunt Evie and so old-fashioned that Tess and Max almost started laughing. “Try not to blow it on a game of chance. The stuffed animals are never worth it.”
Tess linked pinkies with Max and held them up, a public version of a pinkie swear. “Thanks, Aunt Evie,” said Tess. “We promise. The brontosaurus at one thirty.”
~ CHAPTER SIX ~
at the top of the ferris wheel
Aunt Evie was right. Popcorn: £2.00. And it was a really tiny bag, but it was fresh, right out of a popping machine, and it had real butter. Max got the popcorn and a shaved strawberry ice. Tess got a cotton candy, the pink fluffy sweetness that came out of nowhere and always seemed like it was magically made, except in England they didn’t call it cotton candy, they call it candyfloss, which the person she bought it from informed her about when she ordered cotton candy.
“You mean, candyfloss,” he said, pointing to the mass of pink fluffiness forming in the bin. He smiled at her when he said it. “Not meaning to correct you, Missy”—he called her Missy—“just wanting to make sure I give you the right thing. Ben,” he said, telling her his name, even though she hadn’t asked him for it.
“Candyfloss, then, Mr. Ben,” said Tess. “Yes, please.”
“Mr. Ben,” he said. “I like that. Candyfloss it is.” He was also the popcorn maker and Tess took note that smoking behind him was a grill on which were sausages and buns, which might be excellent later if they wanted an almost proper lunch.
Tess and Max stayed quite close to each other, not quite holding hands, even though there weren’t that many people at the carnival yet. They wanted to make sure they didn’t lose each other in the crowd or get distracted and not notice where the other person had wandered off to . . . They walked past a wagon with a sign that said SNAKE CHARMER on the door, with an elaborate drawing of a snake that had endless coils, and then another wagon with a sign that announced a tattooed lady.
The line for the Ferris wheel wasn’t that long. The baskets for the riders looked like chariots, elaborately painted red, with gold curlicues gilded onto the metal edging. The Ferris wheel itself was very tall.
“Imagine,” said Max, “what the view will be like from up there. I bet we’ll be able to see the sea.” It was so like Max to think of something like that. He had a way of looking on to the future, which Tess envied, as she tended sometimes to jump in and not worry about where she’d jumped until later. Or rather try to figure something out once they were in trouble rather than before.
Of course, Max was right, the view from the top was pretty fantastic. They could see all the way to the sea and out to the horizon. But the second time they reached the top, there was a big grating sound that seemed to rock the entire ride and the Ferris wheel came to an absolute stop. And there they were, inside a chariot, hanging up on the top with no idea if it was ever going to start again . . .
This is when Tess started to think forward.
She tried to imagine scaling down the middle of the elaborate chains, gears, and metal pipes that constructed the Ferris wheel. She might make it, but she didn’t know if Max would.
There was a bit of a wind, well, more than a bit really, and the chariot started to rock from right to left.
She started to imagine firemen coming to their rescue, red fire trucks pulling up with their sirens blaring and ladders . . . But it occurred to her that there probably wasn’t a ladder anywhere that would be high enough to reach the top . . .
Someone on the Ferris wheel started to scream, and then what sounded like a parent tried to quiet them.
Max was very pale.
“They’re not going to let fourteen kids and four adults fall out of a Ferris wheel,” said Tess, “trust me on that one.”
Max was impressed she’d counted that. Tess had done it on purpose. She thought if she used “Max logic” on Max that he wouldn’t be scared. But she was nervous he was going to get motion sickness as the chariot was seriously swinging back and forth.
“Don’t look down, Max,” she said. “Just look at me. And if that gets boring, look at the sea. Don’t look down! You told me that we’d have a magnificent view of the sea from up here, and boy, were you right! Look at that. You can even see sailing ships out there. Do you think there are whales in South Devon?”
“I looked this up,” said Max. Of course he had, thought Tess. “And it’s rare to see a humpback whale in Devon. It usually means they’re in distress. They’re supposed to stay further out in the Atlantic. In distress,” said Max who couldn’t help himself from adding this, “sort of like us.”
“We’re really not in distress,” said Tess in an effort to calm Max down as he seemed to get paler by the minute. “I mean, the Ferris wheel is a pretty stable object. It’s just stuck. It’s not like we’re on a roller coaster.”
Max had to admit she had a point. Being stuck on a roller coaster could definitely be dicier. It occurred to him that if a roller coaster got stuck, a rider could just keep on going, fly out of your seat, so to speak, and . . . he was definitely reassured that they weren’t on a roller coaster. It was sort of pretty, looking out at the ocean.
In the process of trying to calm Max down, Tess had made herself a little anxious.
She tried to imagine a helicopter flying overhead and an elaborate rescue operation where she and Max were gently lifted and secured to a long hanging rope or chain that was then . . . She couldn’t quite figure out what would happen then, if they’d come in for a soft landing or be pulled into the helicopter, or dangled for a while from the rope and then softly dropped into the sea, where a second coast guard rescue team would save them . . . She wondered what they called them in England, if they were called the Coast Guard?
“Take a sip of water, Max,” said Tess. She was glad they’d brought their water bottles on the ride with them. She took a sip of water herself. The sun was beating down intensely. Max’s cheeks were turning red, sunburned. Max thought he looked silly in a baseball cap and refused to wear them in public. Tess thought about offering to loan him hers, but she knew that he’d say “no” to that.
There was a terrible scratching noise as if the gears of the Ferris wheel were grating together but locked somehow and unable to move. Another scratching, almost scraping noise. A metallic thud. Uh oh. Then someone screamed.
She heard a woman gasp in fear. And then a deep breath as if the woman was trying to mask her cry.
Tess looked over to her right. One of the chariot’s doors had opened and a little boy was half hanging out of his seat.
That was where the scream was coming from.
Everyone on the Ferris wheel was looking at that chariot and Tess heard another woman across from them gasp when she saw the little boy barely holding on. The woman muttered, “Sorry,” under her breath as she realized it wasn’t very helpful of her to have gasped, either.
The door of the chariot shut for a moment and the little boy righted himself. But then the wind kicked up, a big gust almost out of nowhere, and the door swung wide open again. The little boy was half-terrified. And the wind seemed to be winning. The little boy was half out of the chariot again and really having trouble hanging on. His mother leaned over to catch him, but then she was in danger of falling, too, and had to right herself before she got a grasp on him.
The little boy wasn’t that far away from her, Tess reasoned, just one chariot over. She weighed the options for a second and in the snap of an instant made up her mind. Tess said to Max, “Just promise me you won’t look down. Close the door after I leave and when I’m on my way back, please open it.”
As if Max would do anything else.
He nodde
d and knew better than to argue with her. If this was going to work, Tess needed to believe in herself.
The little boy tried to scream again but it was as if the scream was caught in his throat, or he was so afraid, his voice had been chilled into silence. “It’s okay,” said Tess. “Just hold on.”
She gingerly opened her chariot’s door. Max held it open for her, being careful to hold on himself to an inside bar.
Tess knew she could do this. The arms of the Ferris wheel were quite wide really, almost big enough to walk on if they had been on the ground.
The problem was they weren’t on the ground, they were approximately sixty-five feet above the ground, and Tess knew that she shouldn’t look down either. Crawling would be the best way. She tried a flat-out crawl on her knees, but after only one step, or a half crawl, she realized she was in danger of flipping upside down and then what would she do? Hold on with her hands and hope that someone came to rescue her? Jump down to the next tier, next metal bar, but then she’d have to crawl up that, which was at a 90° angle?
No, the only possibility she saw was lying down, flat as a board, and then carefully inching, inching—one knee, one arm, and a deep push forward from her center, as if she was propelling herself with her own breath—inching her way across the bar. Lying down absolutely flat and scrunching, inch-by-inch, until she reached the second chariot. As quickly as she could.
It was as if she was in a bubble and all sound stopped. And the only thing she could see was the Ferris wheel bar below her and the chariot ahead. Absolute silence. She reached to her front pocket. Something was digging into her. It must have been the needle. She managed to pat her pocket very gently and adjust it and then place her hand quickly back on the metal bar. As she did this, the light seemed to brighten as if there was a spotlight on her, guiding her way. Then a sparkle, as if there were stars. She looked up. She was certain it was daytime, but there was a cluster of stars above her. Well, more than a cluster, really, more like a blanket of stars sparkling and guiding her way.
By the twelfth crunch she was almost to the boy. “It’s okay,” she called out to him. “Hold on. Keep your eyes on mine. Can you do that? I’ll be right there.”
That wasn’t really true—she had about eight more moves to go and it wasn’t that safe to do them quickly.
His mom called out, “His name’s Colin.”
“Hey Colin, I’m Tess,” she said as she kept on scrunching. No time to lose. Straight and steady. Keeping her eyes directly on him, but glancing down just to the bar to make sure she was still totally in balance . . .
Four . . . three . . . two . . . one. She was almost at a place where she could reach him.
“Can you follow directions, Colin?” she asked him. “Can you promise me that?”
Colin nodded.
“Okay, we’ll do a pinkie swear on that when we’re back on the ground. Okay? Deal?”
Colin nodded again and took a deep breath. He was half out of the chariot, but holding onto an inside bar.
“It’s okay,” she said to him. “It’s going to be a little tricky. Don’t let go of the bar you’re holding on to. Got it?”
He nodded and inhaled again. “But with your other hand you’re going to take my hand but be really careful not to pull me. Got it? Don’t pull me. Or we both could go tumbling the wrong way.”
Max from his perch in the other chariot was very glad she’d said this. He’d thought this exact thing himself. He’d concentrated very hard to try to send her a psychic message, as he was scared Colin might pull her over and they’d both go tumbling down . . .
The chariot that Colin was in was a tiny bit below the bar that Tess was resting on, so she reached down to him.
Colin reached for her hand as Tess reached a little farther down for his, trying very hard not to look down, which was almost impossible. They both missed. As if their hands just flew around and missed each other in the air. Someone wasn’t aiming right. Tess realized she had to swing her arm down very gently or she might throw herself off balance.
“Wait, Colin. Let me put my arm out first.” Tess wondered how long she could balance on her knees just holding on with one hand, but she pushed the thought away and held her hand out directly.
“Reach for me,” directed Tess. “Reach for me like you’re going to touch the sky. But try not to move anything else.”
With extreme concentration for a six-year-old, as that was all Colin was, he reached his arm and hand up to hers and as their fingers touched, she felt the sky lighten, as if it was daylight after all. She held tightly to his hand. “Don’t squeeze me back,” she said. “Just let me do this. Now, I’m going to put my hand on your back.” She was lying flat again, one knee up, deep breath in, so that she had more strength to push with. And in one forceful move, she pushed Colin back into the chariot and his mother’s arms. Colin’s mom’s eyes filled with tears, tears of joy. His mother quietly mouthed the words thank you to Tess.
But they weren’t done yet. A gust of wind kicked up again and the chariot door swung open and shut and open again. Tess angrily and forcefully pushed the door back. But the door slammed and flew wide open again on its own. Tess tried it one more time, a little more gently this time, and Colin’s mom caught the door, and held it, and Colin remarkably efficiently and triumphantly resecured the lock, sliding the silver bar back in. For emphasis, his mom refastened his seat belt, which shut with a defiant snap. And then she refastened hers.
This was fine, except a crowd had gathered beneath them. Tess was trying to use all her concentration to stay level on the bar, now lying absolutely flat, holding on with both arms. She heard screaming from the ground. She looked down for a moment, forgetting the rule, the absolute rule: Don’t look down. And the world around her began to spin.
She held tightly to the bar and shut her eyes. When she opened them the world had righted and she squinched back carefully, sort of the way a caterpillar would move across the ground, but as quickly as she could.
The moment she was in reach, Max swung the door open, and as if she was a trained gymnast, she hoisted herself back into the chariot without missing a beat. She swore she heard screaming again from the ground but this time she didn’t look down.
Max caught the door and mercifully closed the latch. Tess carefully put her seat belt back on. And the two of them did a triumphant pinkie swear because they couldn’t help it.
There was another terrible screech and Max wondered what would happen if the Ferris wheel went into free fall, sort of spun around all by itself as if it had no gears at all. He had the sense not to mention this thought to Tess, who sometimes had an even bigger imagination than he had.
And then, just as he and Tess were actually getting worried, there was a sound of an engine starting, another grating noise, deep and severe—Tess almost thought she saw sparks—and the Ferris wheel began to turn again.
But only for a second. And then it stopped. After a minute, it turned again, but only for a second. And then it stopped again. Then it began to turn again.
When Tess looked down—she couldn’t help it, she had to see what was going on—she realized, with some relief, that it was turning like that on purpose so that each chariot could pull in and stop on the landing pad, and the riders could get off.
She and Max were almost the last chariot down. Tess felt herself breathe deeply as someone opened the chariot door. She practically pushed Max out of the chariot in front of her and then got out herself. She had a strange triumphant feeling when she stepped out onto the landing, as if a spotlight was on her, which she didn’t quite make up, as someone was snapping pictures of her with a flash on, even though it was daylight. She looked up to confirm that. There weren’t any stars in the sky. And she wondered if she’d imagined that, that blanket of stars in the sky. Colin and his mom were waiting for them on the landing. His mom had tears streaming down her face. She hugged
Tess as she thanked her. During the promised pinkie swear, Tess insisted on a promise from Colin to be more careful in the future, which was accompanied by another flash of lights. Tess realized a crowd had gathered, including Ben, the grill master/popcorn maker/candyfloss man, who said simply as she passed, “I’m very happy to see you again, Missy.”
Tess had to admit, she was sort of happy to see him, too.
~ CHAPTER SEVEN ~
almost back on solid ground
Max was dizzy. Tess found him a fresh lemonade, which was excellent for settling stomachs. She got herself a lemonade, too. She wouldn’t say she was dizzy, but her heart was beating fairly quickly. She sat down with Max on a funny bench, well, not quite a bench, more like concrete stools shaped and painted like mushrooms.
The clown they’d seen the day before was wearing a full clown costume now and performing in the crowd. He pulled a bright red ball out from behind a baby’s ear, quite startling the baby’s older sister, who couldn’t have been more than two herself. Then he pulled a yellow flower out from the two-year-old’s ear and when he handed it to her, she started laughing and clapping her hands and dropped the flower and started crying, which was sort of complicated and funny to watch. Except it got worse, because then he pulled a red balloon out from behind her other ear and gave her the string and she stopped crying for a second but then let go and, well, Tess wanted to give him a talking-to about being a nice clown.
But then the clown did the strangest thing. He was wearing very big clown shoes, at least twice the size of a normal person’s foot or so it seemed, and he started rocking back and forth on them and then jumped almost sixteen feet into the air and caught the string and rescued the balloon.
The clown seemed to hang there for a minute, almost as though the balloon itself could carry his weight, but that didn’t make any sense. And then he bounced down and ceremoniously bowed to the little girl. But that wasn’t all. He completely surprised her when he magically fashioned it into a balloon animal. It looked like a red panther to Tess, with a little bit of striping from a black balloon that he pulled out from behind his own ear. And then he took the red-and-black panther and tied it to the little girl’s wrist with a swath of pink ribbon (that also came out of nowhere) just to make sure that it wouldn’t fly away!