The last rollercoaster ride

A tall, beautiful woman carried him through the gate. The carnival, full of colors and sounds, stretched for miles. She bought a big roll of tickets and off they went.

The woman paid one ticket and a little train carried her giggling boy down the tracks.

But he was growing and became too big for the train’s small car so she took his hand and walked him to the ponies.

His was one of four, all hitched to a rotating post making them walk in a circle. His heart raced with joy as the pony’s muscles moved under him.

Then, jumping off, he ran towards a long row of booths. Each one had a different game to play. He was bigger now so the woman gave him the tickets.

The first game had lots of balloons with darts to throw at them. It took awhile, but at the expense of many tickets he hit his targets. The balloons exploded to his perfectly aimed darts.

Now, more confident, he tried the next game. It took a long time to hit the bottles with his ball. Even when he did they were heavy and difficult to knock down. But he was growing stronger and, after spending more tickets, the stack of bottles fell.

While riding the ferris wheel he spotted a rollercoaster at the other end of the carnival. The look of it scared him. But it was far away and there were so many other things to do. The rest of the afternoon he took every ride, played every game, and grew into a young man.

Finally, just before sunset, he stood at the last game. The rollercoaster loomed above him.

This game was harder than the rest. Arms aching he threw the ball over and over spending nearly all his tickets but kept missing the target. The one remaining ticket in his pocket was not enough to keep going.

A hand touched his shoulder. It was the woman who’d carried him through the gate so long ago. She was old with sad eyes but a comforting smile. She held his hand like she used to. Together they walked to a gate where a kindly man took the last ticket and whispered, “Don’t worry, son, this coaster’s built strong.”

There was only one car on the track. It rolled him over small hills and dips. Nothing he couldn’t handle. Then came the slow climb up a hill so high he couldn’t see the top. He looked over the whole carnival clear back to where he’d started. The little train. The ponies. The game booths and all the rides. And finally the old woman, who’d seen him through it all, waving below.

The top was getting closer now. His heart pounded. This ride was not like the others. He wanted off. The tracks disappeared beneath him and with a clanging shudder the car dove straight down. He fought off panic with a white-knuckled grip.

Then, just before his fear reached its peak, he saw the tracks were about to level out. The gatekeeper was right. There’d been no reason to be scared. The One who’d built the rollercoaster, and probably the whole carnival, built it well.

The carnival was gone. The ride was done. He was safe now. In fact, he’d been safe all along.

[Photo by JR Korpa]