“OH, AH, USUALLY around five minutes. I like to give everyone a few times around.”
Rob barely hears Mary and the worker guy. His heart thumps in his ears. The ring in his pocket burns against his leg. It’s so damn hot. A lot of people. Too close. Crowding him. He takes a deep breath. Feels Mary’s hand clutch his.
For the millionth time that night, he jams his free hand into his pocket. He’s been so paranoid about losing the ring. That morning he’d turned the jeans inside-out, studied the pocket lining to be sure there was no hole, no loose thread that could become a hole. But now he feels the prick of the small rock at the bottom. There. It’s there, waiting. Chill, dude, he thinks. Tries to relax. The gondolas or whatever they’re called are spinning around, around. He and Mary will be put on next. Red, green, yellow, blue. Each bears a faded number. Roofs like umbrellas. Open-air. A waist-high tub keeping the riders safely inside. The lights are frying his eyes. The music too loud. The crowd…
“Okay!” the man says, and Rob snaps his attention back. Sees the rotation of the massive wheel has slowed to a crawl. “When this group gets out of, let’s see, number nine, you two hop in.”
Nine?Is that a good number? A lucky number? Rob doesn’t know. He’s panicked. Okay, ride stopped. Four girls jump out, giggling. A waft of marijuana slams into his face. They were smoking up there. They’re laughing and the old guy is smiling at them and Mary is pulling his hand, leading him forward, forward. The old guy opens the door, turns to help Mary in…
Mary steps in, then stops. What’s happened? She spins, red fury. She slaps the old guy – hard – across the face. What the fuck is going on?
JEREMIAH CAN’T HELP himself. He opens the door, turns. The girl, holding her boyfriend’s hand. It’s safe, dear, of course it’s safe. He lightly places a hand on her elbow, guides her inside. He’s breathing heavy. My god, the smell of her. His dick so hard. Fucking hell. He slips a hand to her hip, as if to steady her. The other hand quickly to her other hip, slightly lower. Just a little boost. His hands are shaking. She puts a foot into the tub and, without his brain’s consent, without his even fucking thinking about it, both hands slide up, over her breasts, lightning-quick, then away! A slip of the hand! An accident! She won’t say anything, she’ll be too confused… but she’s turning. Shit shit shit. He smiles, starts to put his hands up, as if saying, an accident, miss, an accident!
No go. She smacks him a good one.
Damn.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” Mary screams, her eyes furious. She looks from the old man to Rob, who looks more confused than upset.
“I’m so sorry,” Jeremiah says. “I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry young lady.”
Rob now. Up close. Between them. Crowd in line paying attention. A couple cell phones out, aimed at the trio. At the drama. Someone yells down from one of the gondolas, angry at being stopped for so long. Rob turns to Mary.
“What happened?”
Mary looks into Rob’s eyes. Sees the concern there, the fear, the potential madness that comes with loving someone. She looks over his shoulder at the old pervert, hands still up, shaking his gray head. Her eyes narrow. Back to Rob, who’s put a hand on her shoulder, asking what’s wrong. She wants to push his hand off. She wants to tell him what the fucker did.
No.
There it comes. Unbidden. Something… something deep inside her. A whisper. A warning.
No.
She doesn’t want to listen. She wants to tell Rob that the creep copped a feel. Wants to have Rob kick his old tired ass up and down the pier. And he would, she knows he would. He’d beat the guy senseless.
Then what? Police. A scene. Their date night spent in a squad car, giving a statement. A complaint. Future trial, maybe. The night ruined. An ugly blemish on their lives. Something they’ll remember forever. That night at the pier, when the old man grabbed you. The fight. The police. How it dragged on.
Yes, they’ll think how horrible it was. How horrible the man was. How stained. And that stain would rub off. Just a little bit, onto them. It would become part of them. Part of who they were. Their lives. He’d be a piece of their puzzle. Somewhere down in a shadowy corner, a small piece tying their young lives together, a part of the tapestry that would be them.
No.
She drops her eyes, puts her hands on Rob’s chest.
“Can we go?”
To her surprise, Rob does not acquiesce. Does not immediately take her hand, lead her away. Does not soothe her, kiss her, protect her. He only looks at her stupidly, mouth hanging open. His eyes wide, scared. No, not scared. Panicked.
“Go?” he says.
“Rob, I want to get out of here.”
“Why? What’s wrong? Mary, what happened?”
Mary says nothing. More people shouting from the ride now, from above. Squawking birds. It’s been a couple minutes but it feels like an eternity. The people in line restless. All eyes on her. She looks quickly toward the man, who is now showing more impatience than apology. Eager to get this over with, one way or another, she guesses. Rob grabs both her hands.
“I want to go on the ride,” Rob says, and now it’s Mary’s jaw that drops. “Seriously. I don’t know what’s wrong, but we can talk about it later. Please, Mary. For me. Let’s just go on the ride.”
Mary is flabbergasted. Unsure of herself, of him.
Hypnotically, without emotion, she finds herself nodding, then turning toward the open door. Toward the beet-red tub, rocking loosely on the hinge that connects it to the massive wheel. She feels hands on her again and wants to fucking slap them away but she knows it’s just Rob, and that’s okay. He’s helping her up, and they’re inside.
The seat next to her is sticky with spilled soda. She slides to the far side. Rob is opposite her, smiling uncomfortably. How did this all get so twisted? she thinks, then sees the smiling asshole operator stepping quickly to the door.
“No hard feelings, huh?” he says, and slams the door hard, almost clipping Rob’s knee which lingered too close to the opening. She hears the latch snap firmly into place. She looks away, toward the hard white strut of the wheel, and beyond that the ocean, the coastline. People. Careless people and a distant moon. The sky otherwise full dark.
Mary feels a sickening jolt and they’re moving. She can’t look at Rob. She feels sick. Weak. Stupid. She feels taken advantage of. She’s disgusted with herself. Why didn’t she say something?
Because Rob. She studies him. Tries to understand why he’s acting so strangely. Is he…nervous? Yes. Very nervous. Why hadn’t she noticed it? Why hadn’t she immediately understood? He wasn’t acting aloof, or angry. He’s scared shitless. Mary’s rage subsides, buffered with the question of why?
