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Authors: Kimberly Loth

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BOOK: Bittersweet
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M
EMORIAL
D
AY CAME
and went with little fanfare. The park got busier and I was still hated by my team. Mostly because I could only work, like, three positions and never had to get sopping wet on Executioner. In the mornings I was usually ready before Grant. But one Sunday he knocked on my door and I was still in bed. Three knocks later, wearing my wrinkly uniform and some deodorant, I finally made it out the door. As I climbed into the car, I remembered that my dad’s latest email would be sitting in my inbox and that I didn’t read it. Last week’s letter was strange. He brought up my mom and the divorce. I had been three; I had no memory of them together and mom never talked about it.

The clouds had rolled in and the temperature plummeted. I dug the rain gear out of my backpack and put it on in the car. It was flimsy but at least my shirt wouldn’t get wet. The third of June, fifty-nine degrees, and wet. I couldn’t believe my luck. I got stuck in the one place where it was still cold in the summer. Plus, I left my chocolate at the apartment. Remembered my apple though.

I huffed and got out of the car. The air smelled like worms.

“You’re grumpy this morning,” said Grant.

“I don’t like rain. Or cold.”

Grant smiled with his lips pressed tight. He didn’t look like my dad then. My dad always smiled with his teeth showing. Man, I missed him. I wondered if I smiled like him or not. I hoped not. The teeth were always a little cheezy.

“I guess year round living is out for you.”

“I pretty much hate it here. No way would I stay year round.”

Grant got quiet. I didn’t mean to offend him but life here hadn’t been easy for me. The rain was just one more thing not to like.

“Give it a couple of weeks, you’ll be wishing for rain. It gets so hot that people will be passing out in line.”

“Lovely.” Was the weather here ever nice?

“Where’s your watch?”

I’d left that at home this morning, too. My tattoo was showing. Grant had never seen it before.

“May I see it?” he asked, pointing to my wrist.

“Sure,” I shrugged and held my arm in front of his face.

“Hmm. That’s one way to remember him.”

At first I thought he was judging me but when I looked in his face I saw the frown. The one that said, “I understand.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’ll want to head to the first aid building and get a band aid or two to cover it.”

I nodded and wondered if he truly got it. Before I could realize what I was doing, I opened my mouth. “Do you understand why I’d pick that?”

He scratched his chin. “No, but I’m sure you have good reasons and someday you might even share them.” He pointed at his own watch. “But not right now. You need to get to the morning meeting before me.”

I turned and headed for the timecard shed. Maybe I would share that with him sometime. Maybe not. Then I’d have to admit that my dad’s death was my fault.

At the morning meeting Becca handed me the keys to The Lurking Dead. Absolutely no shelter.

“I can’t work this ride if it’s going to rain.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to rain. I don’t know what else to do with you. We are supposed to rotate. At this rate the only ride you can work is The Headless Horseman, which isn’t fair to the rest of us. If the rain gets bad, I’ll pull you.”

“You don’t get it. I can’t work in the rain. I’ve told you that already.” I pulled out my hearing aid and showed it to her. Not that she hadn’t already seen it. My ears were on display for everyone now that I had no hair. “If this gets even a tiny drop of water on it, then it’ll fry and I won’t be able to hear.”

“Well, it’s not raining right now.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, turned and walked away before I could argue any more. She hated me, though the feeling was mutual so I couldn’t complain. However, she did want me to get fired and that was a problem because Belgium was waiting.

I’d finally been trained on everything but The Omen, the only other ride in our area that actually had some shelter, which reinforced the idea that Becca didn’t think I’d be around for long. HOLE was horrible for many reasons, but mainly because as a crew we rarely got to work with each other. Both The Lurking Dead and The Headless Horseman were one-operator rides. The Omen, which looked like a giant wagon wheel, had two operators but they worked on opposite sides of the ride. The Executioner’s Plunge had four people, but I didn’t get to work there. Which was okay, I guess. I didn’t like the people I worked with anyway. But they were better than the customers.

I did the opening checklist for The Lurking Dead and wondered who in their right mind would want to come to Haunted Valley on a day like this. My dad and I avoided parks when it rained. Those were our movie days. We’d pay for one movie and spend the day jumping theaters. We never got caught. Usually we’d still be able to hit the park the next day.

Unfortunately, Haunted Valley stayed open anyway. No hiding out in the park IMAX watching Alfred Hitchcock flicks. If there was any lightning within twenty miles, most of the rides closed. Except The Lurking Dead, of course. No way could you get struck on a wet spinning piece of metal in the pouring rain.

The rain was light but cold. I managed to keep my hearing aids covered with my hood but if it got any worse I’d have to head for cover. It was moments like this that I missed my hair. It provided extra protection.

Within minutes of the park opening, a group of rowdy boys got in line and I noticed right off that Spitter was among them.

I checked the belt and bar on him and his buddy last. Spitter snickered.

“Well if it isn’t the garbage queen.” He nudged his friend. “He thinks you’re hot.” His friend looked about fourteen and had an unusual number of pimples. I hadn’t seen him with Spitter before.

I looked right at the pimply boy and said, “Thank you.” He blushed and punched Spitter in the arm. Spitter just laughed.

I’d never understand boys’ desire to embarrass each other, though I’d watched my dad do similar things. Thankfully, that was one trait I didn’t inherit from him. I missed him. Even if he had given my number to strange boys. Including the one from Amsterdam who still tried to call sometimes and I couldn’t understand a word he said.

The rain started coming down a little harder and I got concerned as I started the ride. I tugged at the hood a little tighter.

No one was in line and the boys asked if they could go again. I agreed and quickly checked the seats. Spitter ignored me, thank heaven. The boys whooped and hollered and I couldn’t figure out why they would be so happy going in circles when cold rain pelted their faces. To each his own, I guess.

The ride ended and the line was still empty. The rain was steady but it wasn’t getting any worse. As long as it stayed that way, I’d be fine.

“Again,” they yelled.

If they wanted to get sick that was their problem. Around I went again to check the seatbelts. I got to pimply boy and he handed me a piece of paper with a phone number on it. I took it without comment, but as I walked away I heard Spitter say, “Somebody thinks he’s going to get laid, should be easy since she’s an ugly bald garbage queen.”

Apparently he was too dumb to think of any other insults. The boys went around two more times.

Pimply boy looked a little green as he staggered off the ride. But he approached me anyway.

“My name is Billy and you don’t have to call me if you don’t want to. Corbin talked me into giving you my number. I hope that doesn’t freak you out too bad.”

“I’d take you over Corbin any day.” I wouldn’t call him, but he deserved to know that Corbin was a prick.

He grinned.

“You are really pretty.”

Then he bent over and puked all over the ground next to my feet. I covered my nose and backed up a few steps.

Corbin dissolved into laughter and Billy looked mortified. He took off after his buddies, and I saw him run to the bathroom. Poor kid. Poor me.

I closed the ride and called the Park Ops office.

“I’ve never had a greenbox before and I have no idea what to do.” All the clean up supplies for vomit were kept in a green box, so instead of calling and saying “Someone puked,” we were tactful about it and simply called it a greenbox.

The girl on the other end said, “Okay, we’ll send a manager over to help you.”

Becca came over a couple of minutes later with a scowl.

“You know, everyone cleans up their own puke. It’s not the team lead’s job to do it for you.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll do it, but I don’t know what to do.”

She shoved a bunch of stuff into my hands.

“Damn right you’ll do it. I can’t believe you couldn’t just do this by yourself. Put the gloves on and spray the whole area with disinfectant.”

I took the blue bottle and sprayed the liquefied bacon and eggs.

“Now pour the kitty litter onto it.”

“Kitty litter?”

“Yeah, it absorbs the puke,” she said it like I’d have to be an idiot not to know that.

I sprinkled it over the whole space and emptied the bottle. Within seconds the vomit vanished. Wow, I’d have to remember that one when I got home. Teddy had a weak stomach and I was constantly cleaning him up. Especially in the backseat of the car.

She handed me a broom and a dustpan with a trash bag inside.

“Now sweep it up and then spray the area again.”

I did as she told me and then we were done. That wasn’t so bad.

“Make sure you call the Park Ops office and let them know the ride is running again.”

“You know, it’s starting to rain pretty hard.”

She glared at me and walked away.

The rain was steady for the next hour. I kept my hood tied tightly around my head and that seemed to do the job, but then it started to rain a little harder. The wind whipped up and pushed the rain inside my hood, in spite of all I did to keep it out.

My ears.

Thirty seconds later a torrent of rain came gushing down. Thankfully, the ride and the line were empty. I ran. I didn’t call Park Ops, put the chain up, or even grab the key. I had one concern and one concern only. My ears could not get wet.

I made it to the bathroom in seconds. I stood by the sink, realizing I was in a world of shit. If I’d done things properly I wouldn’t be in trouble. But I didn’t have time to worry about doing things properly. Damn Becca. If she’d just listened to me, I could’ve been running Headless Horseman instead.

I stood in the bathroom doorway watching the rain. The torrent would not let up. I wondered if anyone even noticed I was missing. Probably not. No one would want to ride in this weather.

After about twenty minutes the rain began to let up and I felt like it was safe to go out again. Becca stood at The Lurking Dead, looking lost. She held the key in one hand and had the Park Ops phone in the other.

Shit.

I didn’t say a word as I approached the ride. I almost turned around and left the park. But that would just make things worse. When Becca saw me she smiled. Oh, this was so not good.

“You need to go to Grant’s office. Karl and the others will meet you there.”

My insides twisted. Not Grant. My palms began to sweat and I had strange remembrances of other things that I should be ashamed of. Things involving my dad that began and ended in a garage. I could still smell the exhaust fumes.
No. Go away
. A weird pain that’s not really pain started in my stomach, and crept into my throat where it knotted. If I didn’t get it under control the tears would flow. Then I would beg for them to forget what I did and not mention it ever again. My chest hurt and my eyes burned. I shook my head. This was about a stupid ride in a stupid amusement park. Not my dad.

I stopped just before I entered the office and leaned against the wall. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head. This was not good at all.
Focus.
I shoved the feelings away and the blessed emptiness arrived once again. Whew.

Grant sat at his desk. Karl and a couple of other managers sat in a semicircle. I stood before them. There were no more chairs left.

Karl spoke first. “You obviously have the brains of a bird. Even the greenest of ride operators knows you can never leave your post. But even if you did leave for who knows what reason, you would know that it is absolute
idiocy
to leave the key behind.”

Karl paused. Grant continued.

“Do you have any idea what a legal nightmare it would’ve been if a guest had discovered the key and tried to run the ride themselves? Someone could’ve been killed.”

They were being a little dramatic. It wasn’t that bad. I stopped to think before I responded. I didn’t like working here but there was Europe to think about.

“Yeah, but nobody was. It was a downpour. No one was out in the open.”

“There are always guests around and they hate it when rides are closed due to rain. The Lurking Dead always runs. You got lucky that it is a slow day. I’m taking you home.”

BOOK: Bittersweet
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