Deep beneath the hard-packed dirt and dust it digs its feet,
Thick, white legs pointing in four directions,
Holding it steady as the current of air from its spinning top
Spreads across the metal of its limbs.
A crowning of hair forms on my arms despite the summer haze
And I continue to ignore the man in front of me,
His stomach seeping over his jeans as he laughs and asks,
“You gonna just watch all day, Kid, or you gonna ride?”
Little did he know I had been watching him for the past three turns.
He had it simple, he really did.
Just standing on the ground, making it go around, all the other people
Under his dictation, his command.
His choice.
The red scraps of paper singed my palm the tighter I clutched them—
They’d be good for a few more days, after all.
I could come back.
“Come on, Kid, you’re holdin’ up the line. What’s it gonna be?”
Then I saw the sign tacked to one of the bars on the fence:
ONE NIGHT ONLY.
My toes clutched at my flip-flops as I took a few steps forward and held out my sweaty palm toward the man.
“Hallejulah! Now take a seat so we can get goin’, Kid.”
I rotated my eyes slowly in an upward circle. Each basket looked like a multicolored lollipop tied together in a bunch.
“Which one?”
The man had already reached toward the people behind me. “What do you think I am, Kid—a magician? I can’t fly nobody to the top. Get in on the bottom one right there.”
I slid across the cool plastic and clutched the metal bar to my chest.
Jerking forward, my feet powerless to stop me now, I watched
The couple in the seat in front of me laughing, grabbing at each others’ hands
As if to flaunt that their few years over mine gave them
Securities I lacked,
While the two young toddlers being shoved into the seat behind me
Wept and called for their mom.
A faint sound from high above me trickled down,
Winding its way through the thick curtain of black space
Until it finally crept into my ears and tugged my head skyward.
An elderly man swung back and forth,
Feeble legs dangling like pasta noodles coming loose from a fork,
Mouth stretched in a chuckle that funneled through his scattered teeth.
Even when his face pointed toward the ground
He didn’t flinch. He let his arms shimmy freely,
Fingers grasping at the air like pale lobster claws
Left in the water too long.
The couple in front of me inched slowly upward
And my stomach gurgled,
Trying to ignore the syrupy smell of cotton candy
Lingering on my hands
And the suddenly overwhelming mix of
The petting zoo and funnel cakes climbing
Up my nose.
The old man’s chuckle now peered over my shoulder.
My seat paused again.
I distracted myself by imagining I could rest my toes on the tops of trees if I were just thirty feet closer.
The metal bar burned ice into my hands
And the breeze propelled the cage forward, then back
No matter how much I tried to stop its swing.
My gaze plummeted down the trunks of the trees,
My breath rushing after it, reaching
The red and white tents and the neon games
Before it bounced off the dirt far below and slithered
Back through the leafy branches.
Slowly, the couple was pulled out of my sight.
Their laughter had quieted, for as they had just about tipped behind my head
I saw the guy slip an arm around the girl and hold her close.
Another pause and I knew even through my eyelids that the ascent was up.
I peered through my eyelashes, letting them form bars over my roaming eyes.
Of course the wind was stronger here,
Coarsely rubbing my exposed arms,
But even in between my lashes I could tell the cloud of grit from the ground didn’t extend here.
Gripping the seat until my left hand pinched itself, I let my right hand
Drift a few centimeters into the black blanket stretched before me.
I regretted not bringing a jar of some sort—
Nearby stars beckoned my trembling fingers.
Sucking in as much of the crisp air as my lungs could take,
I shifted
My glance downward.
The music and catcalls from the street vendors had been muted,
But the flashing lights twinkled in a colorful pattern of stars
In a faraway galaxy
That a small part of me feared I would never inhabit again.
My heart thumped and tumbled in my chest,
Clothes in a dryer,
But the chill whispered to it until
It calmed again.
Now the toddlers perched above me,
Mouths forming perfect O’s as their eyes drew the same shape in the air.
The corners of my mouth curled in their direction.
“Are you goin’ around again, Kid?”
The pungent tickle of the man’s sweat wrinkled my nose.
“How’d you get here?”
“Open your eyes, Kid! I told ya already—I ain’t no bird!”
I followed his advice,
Having not realized they were closed,
And noticed the metal legs were already right beneath me,
Still pushed deep into the ground.
“Well, Kid?”
“Okay.”
It was easier this time.