An Emotional Roller Coaster

            Bruce looked up at the steel arch and felt his knees knock together. A mad scream and thirty people hurtled over the crest, riding double-file, some with their hands in the air, some holding tightly to the belt in front of them. The roller coaster car screeched to a halt, and the windblown passengers filed off.

            Lucy nudged him toward the car, but his hands were stuck fast to the gate.

            “Bruce?”

            “Sorry,” he mumbled, breathing deeply. “I’m just not—.”

            “Oh, God,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Tell me we waited in line for two hours so you could chicken out again.”

            Bruce couldn’t speak.

            “You’re making a scene.”

            Several smaller children scraped past the height requirement worker and positioned themselves in the front car. The people behind then were tapping their toes, eager to take his place. He would have let them, if she hadn’t been so insistent.

            “We have to get out more,” she had said. “We have to start living!”

            Afraid that she would find him boring, he’d taken her to the theme park, came to the roller coaster first thing in the morning, and realized it wasn’t for him. After a couple of hours going through the games and the food markets, Lucy had started doing these little, disapproving sniffs every time he suggested something. Desperate, he’d come back to The Blaster.

            Reluctantly, trying not to see the slope going up away from the platform, Bruce sidled over to the car, buckled himself in, and said a silent prayer. “Does this belt feel a little loose to you?”

            Lucy sighed. “We need to talk.”
            “Now?”

            “Yes, now. I can’t keep doing this.” She shook her head, the operator’s distant voice starting the pre-ride warnings. “Where’s the man I met, Bruce? Where is the guy who ate a chunk of wasabi to make me laugh?”

            The brakes released, the car slid forward, swooped down a small hill, which made his heart jump into his throat, and then, the chains started dragging them up the first slope. All the while he kept thinking that he ate the wasabi accidentally.

            “Now look at you.” She twisted in her seat. “This was your idea to spice things up, and you can’t even carry through. I want adventure. I want excitement. I want a boyfriend, not a baby.”

            The front car disappeared, followed shortly by the second. Soon, they plummeted. He closed his eyes, which made things worse. The contents of his stomach kept coming to mind. They swooped up another hill, around a corner and into a second set of chains.

            “Seriously, it’s like I don’t even know you,” she snarled. “It’s like it was all a front.”

            Swoop, turn, flip, turn, swoop. Brakes.

            “I’m done with you, with this whole charade. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

            He made a noise of pain. Nauseous, nauseous pain.

            “I’m breaking up with you, Bruce.”

            “I—.”

            The car lurched, and shot up into a loop. Without his consent, his feet were soon over his head, his eyes struggling against gravity to stay open. The blood drained from his face. Next was a tightly banking turn. She screamed expletives at him. He just held the rail.

            The last straightaway unfurled, and the brakes hit, mercifully. He fought down the chilidog from an hour ago, breathing deep. They waited while the train in front of them loaded.

            “Aren’t you going to at least fight for me?”

            The train rolled into the station. The belts kept them locked down.

            “What’s to fight for? You’re right,” he replied, finally. “I’m sorry I had to be someone else just to get your attention.”

            She sniffed and left the moment the belts clicked.

            Queasy, Bruce hobbled onto the platform. One of the small children from the first row was staring at him. “The things you do for love, eh?” he asked.