by Ryan Field
Sarah replied, “Not tonight, honey, and I'm not his girlfriend.” She popped a chunk of bubble gum into her mouth and continued walking.
Chance looked over the clown's polka-dotted shoulder. It was still light out and the park wasn't very crowded that night, but he saw two men standing next to a park bench at the edge of the lake, off in the distance. One wore a red baseball cap and white short pants, the other wore jeans and a navy blue polo shirt and looked as if he'd just stepped out of a Calvin Klein advertisement.
"Do you see him yet?” Sarah asked.
"No,” he said. Then he adjusted his eyes and blinked a few times. “Ah, well..."
Brody was the Calvin Klein advertisement, his short dark hair neatly styled with a small turned-up wave at his forehead. His large hands were shoved in his pockets. He was smiling and nodding; he looked even more handsome than he'd looked in the market. When they started walking toward him, Sarah a few steps ahead, Brody turned in their direction and smiled, and Chance's knees started to feel weak again. Brody pulled his hands out of his pockets and said something to the guy with the red baseball cap, then he turned and walked toward Chance and Sarah. “You made it,” Brody said, “I was starting to worry you wouldn't show up."
"Hi, I'm Sarah. I work with Chance.” She pulled her halter top up higher with her thumbs and index fingers. “I'm sorry. I'm the one who made him late."
Chance said, “Hi, Brody."
It would have been silly and awkward and overly formal to shake hands. But Brody reached into his back pocket and pulled out a roll of tickets he'd purchased for the rides. “I haven't been here in a long time,” he said, “and I want to go on every ride in the park tonight."
"Ah, well, I don't know about that,” Chance said. He shoved his hands into his own pockets and lowered his head. “They say the roller coaster hasn't been repaired since l975, and it's just an accident waiting to happen."
Sarah put her hands on her hips and said to Brody, “Don't listen to him. He's afraid of rides. But I'll go on them with you.” She loved fast rides, anything that soared down a steep hill, turned her upside down, and shook her around. The higher the ride went, the wider she smiled.
Brody grinned at him. “Maybe there are a few you can go on."
When he raised his head and his eyes met Brody's, he experienced a peculiar jolt in the pit of his stomach, and then his body started to loosen and his hands fell limp at his side. “I'll go on a few,” he said, “But not the roller coaster, and nothing that goes too high."
The roller coaster was near the entrance of the park, so Sarah and Brody went on that first. Sarah ran to the first car in the row, pulling Brody by the arm, while Chance stood patiently waiting for them, clutching her purse. His stomach pulled as he watched the row of cars climb up a steep hill; the rust-colored tracks swayed and made rickety noises, as if they were missing a few essential nuts and bolts. And when the cars descended and Sarah's arms flew into the air, his back teeth started to itch. She screamed with the other passengers behind her. He knew her face was red and her eyes were open as wide as they would go. From what he could see, Brody held onto the front safety bar as Sarah's large body leaned into him when they rounded a curve.
When the roller coaster went off toward the other end of the park and Chance couldn't see them anymore, he walked over to a bench and sat down next to another guy holding someone's purse. He only wanted to sit quietly and wait, but the other guy started talking first. “I hate this, man,” he said, “My wife loves to come here every summer and go on the roller coaster, and it looks to me like it's ready to come down any minute. Crazy, man, just crazy. And I get stuck holding her purse.” He tapped a white canvas purse at his side and laughed, then spread his legs wider and spit on the ground. He was wearing baggy tan shorts, brown sandals and a white baseball jersey, and it sounded like he came from New York. But it could have been Northern New Jersey.
"Ah, well...” Chance said. Strange people were always starting up conversations like this with him, especially strange men. This guy was in his thirties and going bald on top. He had a small paunch, but nice hairy legs and a good-looking face.
"You live around here, man?” he asked. His eyes began to shift in every direction, and he started to play with the wedding ring on his finger.
"Not far,” Chance said. He didn't want to encourage a conversation with this guy.
"Do you do massage, man?” he asked. He leaned in and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “I'm going to be around for a few days, and I could use a soft pair of hands, if you know what I mean, buddy."
Oh, he knew what this guy meant. There were times when Chance wondered if he had an invisible sign attached to his back that said, C'mon boys, I'll take care of you. It never failed; he always attracted the married guys, the daddy types who liked to play around on the down low when their wives weren't paying attention. They were the big strong firemen and cops who played football on the weekends; the guys who drank beer, scratched their balls, and went to stag parties with their buddies to watch hired women strippers. One of those guys once told Chance it was because he had natural blond hair, a smooth body, and an ass that rounded like two ripe melons. The guy said, “If they put you in a pair of high heels, bend you over the back of a chair and spread your legs wide, it's the next best thing to tagging a hot woman. Horny men can smell good sex, and they know when someone is ripe for it."
"Sorry, man,” Chance said, “I don't do massage.” But he wasn't offended, and he didn't want to blow him off in a mean way—the guy was only paying him a compliment. Poor Sarah would have cut off her left tit to get this guy naked on a massage table. “But if I did, I'd enjoy giving you one.” Chance knew how to stroke a man's ego. Besides, he liked attention.
The guy looked up and smiled, then sat back and straightened his shoulders as if he were about to pound his chest like Tarzan. But he didn't get a chance to respond because the ride was over and people were climbing out of the roller coaster cars. “I'm gonna go meet my friends, man. Nice talking with you,” Chance said.
"You too, baby,” the guy said. “Walk slowly so I can watch your ass as you leave.” He reached down and casually tugged at his dick a couple of times.
Chance's head jerked back and he laughed. That last comment was unexpected and very bold. He hadn't expected the guy to call him baby or to be that forward in such a public place. He smiled. “You're like a bad little boy looking for trouble, aren't you?"
The guy pulled a business card from his back pocket and quickly handed it to Chance. “I'll bet you are, too. Call me.” He was staring at Chance's lips, and his right leg was jumping up and down. Chance could see the outline of an erection beneath his baggy short pants.
He took the card and shoved it into his pocket. “See you later, man.” If they'd been alone, he would have gone down on him without thinking twice. The poor guy looked as if he hadn't had good head in years. He had that same eager expression that the guy on his high school football team had the night Chance had been kicked out of his parents’ house. One minute Chance and the football player had been studying for a math exam, and the next Chance was pulling down the guy's zipper and sucking his dick. When his mother walked in unexpectedly and saw her son sucking off the football player, she screamed so loud he almost bit the poor guy's dick off.
Chance knew the married guy was staring at his ass, so he walked slowly toward the roller coaster exit and arched his back a little. Sarah came rushing over first, her frizzy red hair was all blown and messed. She was tugging at her halter top again. Brody followed her, and Chance's heart thumped. He pressed his palm to his throat when he saw his smile. The married guy with the hairy legs vanished from his thoughts, and the only thing he wanted to do was reach down and hold Brody's large hand. But he couldn't do that in such a public place.
Brody and Sarah went on the ferris wheel, The Whip, The Caterpillar and The Cyclone. Chance waited for them each time, holding Sarah's purse under his right arm. He saw one of his regul
ar customers near The Cyclone, an elderly widow who stopped into the market each day for one thing or another. Now, she held a child's hand and Chance smiled. After that, he finally agreed to go on the bumper cars and the merry-go-round, but the haunted house took a little coaxing.
"C'mon,” Sarah said. “Don't be such a baby. The haunted house is nothing more than a slow, straight ride through a dark building. It's nothing. It's the easiest ride in the park. It's actually fun because there's nothing haunted about it."
"I don't know,” Chance said. “I'm not fond of the dark. You two go, I don't mind waiting outside."
Brody said, “If you go on this one ride, I promise I'll go over to the shooting gallery and win you the biggest prize they have.” He was all smiles and teeth. His arms were stretched out and he motioned Chance forward.
Chance turned to Sarah and frowned. “And you're sure this ride doesn't go up any steep hills and down any fast into valleys? It's just a straight, slow ride through a dark tunnel?"
"Yes,” she said.
Chance should have wondered why people getting off the ride were wiping water off their arms and legs. But he didn't. He looked at Brody and said, “Okay, I'll go on this, but I want to sit in the last car."
"Fine,” Brody said. “I'll sit with you. I prefer the last car, too."
As they entered to claim their cars, Brody slipped his palm against the small of Chance's back to guide him toward the last car. Then he lowered it slightly so that it was almost touching his ass as Chance stepped into the car. Chance turned and looked at him for a second; Brody smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
Sarah sat down alone in the car in front of them. When everyone was buckled down and all the steel safety bars were locked in front of the passengers, she turned around and said, “Hold on, here we go."
The cars slowly started to move along the tracks. When they were inside the haunted house, it was so pitch black that Chance couldn't see his own hand. His heart normally would have started beating fast. because he hated the dark. But when Brody lifted his arm and placed it around his shoulders, he took a deep breath and smiled. And when Brody pulled him up against his chest and kissed his earlobe, his body loosened and he sank into Brody's strong chest.
The old cars moved slowly, swaying and jerking whenever they rounded a curve. Good thing they weren't going fast, because it didn't feel like the cars were securely attached to the tracks. Fake spider webs fell and passengers waved their arms and laughed. When they passed a glow-in-the-dark skeleton, Brody reached down with his other hand, placed it between Chance's legs and squeezed his inner thigh. All of a sudden, Brody was all hands.
"I don't know about this,” Chance whispered. “There are a lot of people in here. We could get caught.” He spread his legs wider and pushed his hips forward a little. The erection he had was pressing against the waistband of his jeans and it was starting to hurt.
"It's dark. Stop worrying,” Brody said. He lifted his hand from Chance's thigh, wrapped it around the front of his waist, and rested it on his hip.
Chance tried to push him away at first, but when Brody started to slip his hand down the back of his pants, he sighed and sucked in his stomach so Brody's hand would slide down easier. The button on his jeans popped open from the pressure and his zipper went down. Brody's hand was all the way down his pants by then and he grabbed Chance's ass so hard, his eyes started to roll back. He felt like a teenager in the last row of the movie theater. He'd push him away a little, and then Brody would hold him even tighter: No, stop, but do it again. Brody started to bite his neck, and his stubbly face was rough and prickly. Chance reached forward and ran his hand gently across Brody's upper arm. His pants began to slide down his legs and his erection popped out. Then, just as he was about to open his mouth and kiss Brody's arm, the cars slowly began to climb upward.
Chance bolted upright. He pushed Brody off and fastened his pants, then grabbed Brody's arm and said, “Why are we going uphill? This is supposed to be a straight, flat ride for chicken-shits who are afraid of heights, like me."
"Just calm down, baby,” Brody said, “It's probably nothing much. It's all good, man."
But they kept climbing, and his heart started to beat faster and his mouth felt dry. He leaned forward and tapped Sarah on the shoulder. “What the fuck is this?” It was still dark. And even though she turned, he couldn't see her face.
"You'll love it. Just sit back and relax, sweetie,” she shouted.
They continued to climb, and the train of cars exited the dark, “haunted” building. They headed up, up, toward the tall peak of what looked like a roller coaster hill. Chance sat all the way back and pressed his feet hard against the floor. Every muscle in his body was clenched, and he bit his bottom lip. When he looked down, with nothing on either side of the car but thin air, he saw small dots of people walking around the park far below. Off in the distance, he could actually see the other side of the lake. He closed his eyes and reached for Brody's arm. His knuckles stiffened and he felt the blood drain from his face.
"You're really terrified,” Brody said. He was smiling, but not laughing.
Chance just nodded. He couldn't even speak.
"It's okay, baby,” Brody said, “We're fine.” Then he put his arm around him again and held him tightly. They were in the last car, so no one could see them.
When the trail of cars reached the top and began to fall, he reached for the safety bar and held it so tightly his hands ached. His erection disappeared and his balls tightened. Brody's arm was still solidly around him as he pressed his feet harder to the floor, as if there were an invisible brake pedal. The cars went faster, speeding downhill on the rickety, swaying roller coaster track, and everyone in the cars ahead of him lifted their arms high in the air and started to scream with joy. The faster they went, the louder they screamed. Sarah's arms were bouncing back and forth, and her hair flew straight up with the wind. Chance closed his eyes and prepared to die, and a moment later, they pounded directly into a large pool of dark water. creating such a huge splash. he couldn't see anything but mist.
The cars started to slow as they climbed out of the shallow water and headed toward the exit, and Brody removed his arm from his shoulder quickly. Chance finally let go of the safety bar and took a deep breath, but his feet were still pressed hard against the floor and he was still breathing rapidly. Sarah turned all the way around and smiled. Her face was damp and the front of her yellow halter top had water spots near her nipples. “Let's do it again,” she shouted.
Chance didn't say anything. He just lowered his eyebrows and stared at her. The only thing he wanted to do was get out of that car and kick her in the ass.
When the cars stopped and the other passengers started to climb out, Brody looked down and asked, “Are you okay?” He was taller, and Chance was still slumped down in his seat.
Chance nodded. “I'm fine, man. But I'm really sorry I freaked out like that up there. I hope I didn't grab your arm too hard.” He didn't want Brody to think he was a coward. “I just didn't expect it, is all."
"Listen, if I had known that ride was anything like that, we wouldn't have gone up there. Hell, I don't want you to be afraid when you're with me. I want you to feel safe and comfortable.” He smiled and knocked his arm against Chance's shoulder. “Let's go do something you like, now."
Sarah had already climbed out and was waiting for them at the exit gate, wiping water spots off her purse. “What should we do now?” she asked.
Chance stared at her, and then he said, “fishhook.” He didn't say anything else out loud, but his teeth were still clenched.
She lifted her right eyebrow and smiled. “Ah, fishhook."
"What's fishhook? Is it a ride?” Brody asked. He looked excited, and his expression was animated. “Does this fishhook ride involve boats?"
Neither of them answered Brody, and Sarah looked down at her watch and shook her head. “Sorry, guys, I didn't realize it was so late. I've got to meet my brother and catch a ri
de home. You guys have fun."
They said good-bye and watched her cross back toward the entrance gate where her brother was getting ready to leave. Then Brody asked, “What would you like to do now? Anything you want. Just name it."
Chance's knees were still wobbling and his hands were sore from holding the safety bar. He smiled and said, “I'd really like to go down to The Pier, sit where there's peace and quiet, and have a good, stiff drink.” He wasn't much of a drinker, but after that ride, he needed a little calming.
"Okay, but on the way we're stopping at the shooting range. I promised I'd win you a prize,” Brody said.
He won the biggest, longest, most campy stuffed snake in the park that night. Bright lime green, with yellow and black spots, it stretched to over six feet long. Chance stood back with his hands in his pockets while Brody stretched his strong legs and pointed the fake rifle toward flimsy duck decoys. He concentrated on the moving ducks and shot perfectly straight. When his finger pulled the trigger, his ass cheeks tightened and his hips thrust forward. And Chance wasn't the only one watching him: a couple of giggling women were staring at him as he shot at the targets and whispering things to each other that no one could hear. In fact, Brody was so good, the guy who ran the shooting range offered him his pick of stuffed animals just to see him disappear. He chose the snake, wrapped it around Chance's neck and they walked down to the pier for a drink.
He ordered a beer for himself, and Chance asked for a very dirty martini with extra olives. They sat at the edge of the bar on tall stools and talked. Brody told Chance he was twenty-nine years old, that he'd grown up on the lake, and that he was back in town on extended leave from his post in Europe because his mother was dying. He didn't go into any details about his mother because it was too soon for that, and he didn't go into details about his work in the Navy because he couldn't. He was in intelligence, and most of the work he did was top secret. He just skimmed over his life: He'd been in the service since he was twenty-one and he'd worked hard to become an officer. The requirements sounded staggering, from the physical standards to the moral obligations. Brody spoke quickly and moved his large hands around; he had a habit of laughing and then punching Chance lightly on the shoulder. Chance just sipped his drink and listened quietly. Brody seemed so eager to just sit there and talk that Chance had hardly said anything about his own life, which was fine with him. The only part of his life he mentioned was his love of cooking and his obsession with the Food Network. It was the only part of his meager life worth mentioning.