ride it twice. I’ll stay right here, safe on the ground, and wait patiently.”
She looked him in the eye. “I want you to go on it with me, Harold. Just the Ferris wheel. I won’t ask you to try the Hurricane or the parachute drop or anything else. Just this one ride. It won’t kill you.”
“That’s because I won’t be on it.”
“Harold, please.”
Now the nervous smile was gone. Replaced by a frown of annoyance. “I don’t understand why you insist on being so adamant about this. For heaven’s sake, it’s just a carnival ride. It’s hardly worth bickering about. It won’t make one whit of difference, in the scheme of things, whether or not I go on the stupid thing.”
“It makes a big difference to me,” Joan said.
“Oh, I have to prove I’m a man, is that it? Is this some kind of a test?”
“It didn’t start out that way,” Joan told him.
“I’ll ride the damn thing if it’ll make you happy.”
“Good,” she muttered. She turned away from him. She took a bite of the cotton candy and it melted away in her mouth and she felt like crying.
The Ferris wheel was still going full speed, its lighted spokes spinning, cars rocking, riders squealing as they were swept down from the staggering height. Some of them, she saw, were embracing. She tossed her cotton candy into a trash bin.
“I said I’ll do it.” He sounded petulant.
“I heard you.”
“So what are you pouting about?” he asked.
“This was supposed to be fun.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “I guess I’m just not a very fun guy. Maybe you should’ve come here with one of your macho cop friends. I’m sure Dave would be delighted to ride the goddamn Ferris wheel.”
“He wouldn’t whine about it.”
“Now I’m a whiner. Isn’t that wonderful.”
“Not especially.”
“Christ.”
“You’ve never touched me, Harold.”
His mouth fell open.
“Joan, for Christsake.” He glanced around as if fearful that someone might be listening. But the others waiting in line were talking among themselves. The air was thick with laughter and screams, the spiels of pitchmen, the crackle of gunfire from the shooting gallery, hurdy-gurdy music from the Ferris wheel.
He didn’t need to worry about eavesdroppers.
“Is it me?” Joan asked. “Is something wrong with me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then what is it? We’ve been going together for weeks. We hold hands and kiss good night—I kiss you good night. And that’s it.”
“I thought you preferred it that way.”
“Then you don’t know much about—”
“Move it along, folks.”
Harold stiffened.
Joan saw that the line had moved forward, that their turn had come to board the Ferris wheel.
“We don’t have to do it,” she said.
But he shook his head and went through the gate. The man took the tickets from Joan. They stepped onto a platform and climbed into the waiting gondola of the Ferris wheel. It rocked gently as they sat down. The man swung a metal safety bar across the front and latched it secure.
With a jerk that made the basket tip, the wheel carried them upward. It stopped, and the next passengers boarded.
Harold was clutching the safety bar with both hands.
Joan put a hand on his thigh. He looked at her. He gasped as they were suddenly lifted higher.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Joan said. “The Ferris wheel’s safe. So am I.”
“Sure,” he muttered.
The wheel abruptly lifted them once more. Harold squeezed his eyes shut. He sat there gripping the bar, feet planted on the floor panel, back rigid, eyes tightly shut, teeth gritted.
Joan patted his thigh. “Loosen up, would you? You’re making me nervous.”
“I’m sorry.” He managed to say it without moving his jaw.
“Hey, you’re not going to capsize us if you open your mouth.”
He sucked in a quick breath as the wheel moved again. When it stopped, they were near the top.
They were damn high.
Joan felt as if her insides had been left at the previous level.
“Jesus,” she muttered.
The boardwalk was way down there.
If this damn thing tips over…
“I’m not the kind of man,” Harold said, “who has a woman like you.”
“Self-fulfilling prof…Uh!” She grabbed the safety bar with both hands.
When the wheel stopped, they were at the very top. Their gondola swayed back and forth.
She realized that this position, though higher than the previous one, was considerably less unnerving.
Because, at the pinnacle of the Ferris wheel, the ground was out of sight. She could see the distant wooded hills of the coastline range, and the headlights of cars on the highway, but nothing of the boardwalk.