That day was a day of firsts. I had not been on a roller coaster in so many years that it was like a first. Hell, spending the day at the fair going on rides was a first. It was two years since my ugly second divorce, and I had settled into a routine. When I go to the state fair, it’s usually to see the sights, mingle with the people and enter the lame contests that no one ever wins anyway. I guess I have always told myself I'm too old for the rides.
I received a phone call a few months back from an old college friend. She said she would be in town and would love to see me and catch up on old times. I should have suspected something right then. We were close friends in college only because I helped her with her studies. Out of all the other students in program, she happened to have the same course schedule as me, so I guess we were a familiar pair all the way through the two-year course.
It happened that the fair was on the same weekend Chris would be in town, so I planned that we would take the fair in. If things got awkward, we could at least go on the rides or view the local distractions to fill our time. After all, it had been fifteen years since I had last seen her. I was nervous as I always am when meeting people. I'm not a very public person, so it's difficult to put me in a one on one situation and make me feel at ease. Although I spent two wonderful years with Chris at my elbow five to six days a week, I still felt I did not really know her.
I met Chris at the airport early that Saturday morning and as soon as I saw her all the worries faded. Her smile lit up her face when she recognized me and we exchanged wonderful, close hugs. There is something about meeting a long lost friend that really warms the heart. She looked great with her long, flowing blond hair and her flower-print summer dress clinging tightly to her gorgeous body. I felt a twinge deep down inside.
I grabbed her bags, she grabbed my arm, and we headed out.
Planning ahead, I had gotten a set of all-day rides passes for us, so we headed for the fair. Though I am a loner, I do enjoy the anonymity of being in a crowd. The sights and sounds of a fair thrill me just by being a part of it. Taking the park-and-ride, we chatted like we had never lost touch. Standing close, I could see how the years had touched her with fine lines etched around her eyes, her fair skin tanned from being in the summer sun, the odd gray hiding in her golden blond hair. But she still was a stunning beauty. Standing on the crowed transit, we were forced closer and closer as each stop brought more people on the bus. By the last stop, I had my hand nestled in the small of her back, shielding her from the touches of other passengers. There was that twinge deep inside at having her so close.
Chris seemed to ignore the touch of my hand, so I kept it there, feeling her warmth under the thin fabric of her dress. Was I protecting her by laying claim? I smiled at the thought and she, seeing me smile, nudged me with her elbow.
"What are you grinning about?" she asked.
"Our stop is next," I said, neatly avoiding the question as I pressed her further ahead toward the exit doors.
The fair grounds were crowded. It was a beautiful day for the fair and even more crowded because it was a weekend. It would be a record-breaking day. I did not like the heat, though, and could easily have done without the long lines, but that all comes with a day at the fair. Even before we got to the gates, our senses were assaulted with the smells and sounds of the fair, both good and bad. My stomach growled loud enough to be heard by Chris and she turned back to me.
"We'll have to take care of that problem quickly," she said, then laughed.
"Corn dogs and mustard!" I suggested.
What would a fair be without corn dogs and mustard, washed down with a tall cold glass of fresh lemonade? I headed for the nearest stand, but passed it by. The smells of rancid oil and overheated tarmac suddenly twisted my stomach into knots. I was sure the heat of the day would bring out more unpleasant smells, but that was what a fair was all about. Popcorn, ice cream, spilled pop and candyfloss mixed with the smoke of BBQ chicken and ribs and the odor of stale beer drifting in from the beer gardens. It was three more stalls into the fair before I settled on one that drew me in. Chris joined me in a corn dog. We walked on, taking in the sights. My corn dog was gone in seconds, as that’s the way I've always eaten, fast, like it was my last meal. Chris took her time with hers, eating it slowly and making eye contact with me as she licked the ketchup off the tip before nipping small bits from the end. My heart skipped a beat watching her with that corn dog. She was teasing me. I guess the look on my face was too much, for Chris started laughing. I blushed, and then I started laughing, too.
The first ride we decided to go on was short one, yet it had a long line. It must be good and with a name like "The Drop of Death" it had to be a heart stopper. We chatted merrily as we waited in line, stopping every time the ride would drop another group of screaming people, only to start up again when the ride loaded and the line moved on.
Finally we were next to load. The group before us had one woman similar in age to us. Seated in a car that held four people, she was strapped in the middle. The car held passengers in the seat with a bar that folded down over the shoulders, firmly clamping their bodies into the seat. Their feet were left dangling. I hate having my feet dangling in a ride, so my heartbeat went up a few notches just at that thought. The operator told the woman to remove her sandals, as they might fly off mid-ride. She smiled her nervous smile and slid them off, leaving them where they landed. The ride cranked up and lifted the car vertically one hundred feet into the air, only to drop it straight down again. The screams coming from the crowd could never drown out the hysterics of this one woman, who I swear was screaming as soon as she lifted off the ground. She screamed all the way up and down. The thing that struck me funny was that her feet landed into her sandals and she was up and out of the ride before she even stopped screaming. She didn't even have to look; her feet found those sandals and were carrying her away as fast as they could.
Our chance was next and we marveled at the sights of the fair as we rose above all the other rides. The ride lifted fast, but slowed to a crawl at the top. This was to draw out the anticipation of the drop, for as soon as it hit the pin at the top, the car dropped. Such was the construction of the ride that you could not turn your head to see when you were about to reach the top, so you were never quite sure when it would happen until you were already falling. I am not a screamer but Chris is, and yell she did, all the way down. I think I just stopped breathing. It was a rush for sure, but one that I would not repeat, for once is enough.
The next ride was a roller coaster with three full loops in it. I guided Chris into the line. Chris took advantage of the lineup and stood close to me as we talked. Soon I had my hand on her hip, more I think to keep her at a distance than to pull her in, but she felt good all the same. We talked of all that had gone on in the last fifteen years, of how she had married and divorced and was on her way east to meet someone. She mentioned that she had always liked me and that I was lucky. I was at a loss for words as she continued to sidle closer as the conversation got deeper. My heart was pounding more from being this close than the anticipation of the ride.
‘Lucky?’ I thought to myself. Does she know that I too was divorced, not once but twice since we had last met, and that I have been alone for the last few years?
Our turn came and we jammed into a car near the back of the ride. Strapped in, my hand landed on her knee and stayed there where her dress had ridden up and her skin was cool to the touch. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but she smiled shyly and then the ride started. I didn't have time to think after that until the ride was done. Climbing out, I held out my hand to help her out. Both of us were a bit shaken by the ride. It was fun - more than fun, exciting. She clung to my arm with both hands as we shakily made our way down the ramp. It was an entirely innocent gesture on her part, or was it? I felt a bit guilty letting her stay arm in arm all that way. She was off to see someone, after all. My heart was still racing. Was it from the ride or from her close contact?
We did a few more rides, and then Chris had enough. During the last ride we went on, she screamed so long and hard that she almost stopped breathing. Her face was all red and blotchy and I told her it was enough. At that point she had to agree, so we went inside the arena to watch a few shows and check out the sights and displays. One dark theater held a dog show, putting all the dogs and handlers through the paces of doing tricks, jumps and races. It was quite entertaining and dark. Just when a hand touched my thigh, my cell phone lit up and rang. It was another friend of mine, a single mom who just wanted to talk. I begged off the phone quickly, saying I was in a show and couldn't talk.
Chris reached over, touched my hand, and scratched a single nail over the back of it, idly tracing a little pattern. I'm sure she saw me tense up as she did so. It was a game for her, but my life was on the line. Do I really want to walk that line again? Is there any truth the 'third time’s the charm' saying? Should I play? I pulled my hand away.
"You bored?" I asked. "We can go on and find somewhere else," I stammered. "I mean, something else to do."
"Sure," Chris said, giggling. Her giggles sent shivers up my spine. Were girls born with that skill? We made our way out of that show and wandered around, her on my arm, like we were lovers. I was enjoying this; she made me feel like I was sixteen again. We wandered the stalls of the fair, stopping here and there whenever something caught her eye. She'd hold a dress with an African print up tight to her body and ask the question no male could answer, then giggle and put it back on the rack before I could say anything. Truthfully, I was watching her hand slide down over her curves more than what the dress looked like. What guy would turn down this beauty if she offered herself to him? I swallowed hard.
"Let's go in that pavilion and see the dancers," Chris suggested, pointing at a large sign displaying Caribbean dancers. We could hear the faint sound of steel drums through the closed doors. Arm in arm, we headed for the door.
As we entered the dark theater, she led the way to the seats in the dark corner at the back of the theater. She settled in, pulling me down quickly. I pulled back a bit.
"This type of music makes me so hot!" she said.
I laughed at the comment, but looked around and found we were quite alone this far back. I began to get nervous. She picked up my arm and crawled under, snuggling close.
When she brought my hand around, it landed right across her right breast. ‘This can't be happening to me,’ I thought. I looked down to see the lights of the stage reflected in her eyes like tiny stars. She had her bottom lip clamped between her teeth, making her top lip curve out in a beautiful pout. How could I not fall for her? She made me melt right there in the seat. Well, part of me melted, while another part, well, let’s just say it was waiting at attention.
