Waiting for change always seems to take longer than you would expect.
I read the words on the little white card again and gazed at the gypsy fortune teller’s ceramic face behind the cloudy glass case. How did that machine always know the right card to give at the right time? It had indeed been a long wait for this moment—a long wait to gather the courage to change my life and ideals to let this happen. I would have cried if I could have, but tears weren’t coming. I was too happy.
I had to find Penny. She promised she’d be waiting for me at the Ferris wheel when I finally decided to join her.
That’s where Penny and I had met–at the Ferris wheel. It had been the July 4th weekend of our junior year of high school. She was new in town. I didn’t want to come to the amusement park that day. I didn’t want to spend time with my little brother or my parents. But, meeting Penny made it all okay.
I remember the day was hot as hell. The sun made the blacktop bubble. But it didn’t matter. All that I saw was Penny.
“Wanna ride with me?” she had asked me with a shy nod toward the Ferris wheel. Her voice was like a tickle in my ear. How could I say no to her big eyes and button nose?
Now, turning up my collar, I set off from the old arcade, headed toward the Ferris wheel. A gray sky ushered a cold wintry wind that whooshed along the causeway. The barren trees towering outside the abandoned amusement park trembled as much as I did. The sagging SkyRide cables swung wildly overhead, whipping the air with zealous zips. As I walked amid the corridor of bumper cars, the tilt-o-whirl, the scrambler, and the menagerie of rides that I had never dared, my mind drifted to that cloudless July 4th and the joy that Penny and I shared, replaying the droll of laughter and passing conversations.
I quickened my pace toward the Ferris wheel–toward Penny.
From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a dark figure darting between the Haunted Funhouse ride and the House of Mirrors. I stopped and twisted around. No one was there.
“Penny?” I called. Whispers mingled in the wind. “Hello?”
I held my breath and waited for a response.
“My mind is playing tricks on me,” I said aloud. I checked my collar and continued toward the Ferris wheel. I couldn’t let anything deter me from Penny.
Another shadowy figure scurried between rides, barely within my vision. A soft giggle teased me to follow.
“Penny!” I screamed. “Wait!”
I ran to where the form had been and shimmied my way through the Octopus arms only to again find nothing.
“It’s me, Penny! I’m here!” I shouted. I looked side to side, up and down, but there was no one. After a deep sigh, I worked my way out to the causeway again, put my head down and trudged toward the Ferris wheel.
Voices murmured a conversation I couldn’t quite hear, and I swung nearly in a full circle.
“Where are you?” I bellowed. My voice fell dead in the gusty wind. My ears rang as more voices joined the host that was already talking. Covering my ears, I staggered along the causeway half running, hoping to leave the voices behind, but they only roared louder, rambling on and on incoherently. The Ferris wheel loomed before me. I could see the gate for the line open and a small figure stepped forward, waving to me.
“Penny,” my voice crackled. I could see her glistening eyes and that cute, button nose. Her smile brightened everything.
My legs carried me in a dead run for my Penny, faster than my body could keep up. The shadows surrounded me and their voices blurred together. I banged against the fencing lining the way to the gate. Panting, I approached Penny, one hand outstretched.
“Wanna ride with me?” she asked, just like she did on that July 4th weekend.
“Yes. Oh, yes,” I breathed.
She reached for my hand. “Come with me then.” Heart racing, I could no longer wait to hold Penny–to love Penny–again. My fingertips touched hers.
The gray sky ushered a wintry wind that whooshed over us. More vague figures darted among the rides. The voices droned louder, nearer. Penny began to slip away, her eyes heavy with tears. Her fingers slid like water through my hands.
Fear knotted me inside.
“Penny!” I screamed. “Wait!” The voices boomed louder. Figures closed around me. Pain squeezed my chest. My breath solidified in my throat.
Arms coiled me and yanked me away.
My back arched and I plopped down hard. I sucked in a deep, stinging breath. Figures of white hovered over me.
“We’ve got ‘im!” a nurse shouted. I looked at the paddles she held just above my chest.
“Take it easy. You’re back with the living now,” said a doctor. Tears burned my eyes.
It would take a bit longer than expected to see Penny again. I guess I needed a better plan.
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©2011 T.A. Branom
T. A. Branom is a freelance writer living and working in the breathtaking Columbia River Gorge in Washington State and has been published in various print and online venues including Fictitious Magazine and numerous Static Movement anthologies. She’s also a columnist for Unexplained Mysteries. For more, visit her website at http://www.home.earthlink.net/~branom201/.
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