Chapter 7 - Part 2

I looked at him mutely: two sides warring inside of me. I did not really want to keep the blanket. I didn’t want to leave more money and the air was already warming up so I didn’t even need it. Still, I did not want to be treated like a child – ever -- ever again.

Finally, with my heart thumping loudly in my chest, I said, “It’s cold,” and pulled the blanket more firmly around me.

“So what if it’s cold, Sonya?” Sam demanded. “It’ll warm up in a minute. I said leave it here. Don’t you think I know what’s best for the family? I suppose I’m not good enough for you or the family, do I? You don’t need me, do you? Fine! Keep the blanket! In fact, let’s get everyone a blanket!”

Sam reached behind the counter and started grabbing blankets. He grabbed the thickest ones he could find. He grabbed the ones that would surely be the most expensive. He handed one to Tom and one to Brittney and another one to me. Tom said, “No thanks, Dad. I really don’t want a blanket.”

“Sorry, son! Your mom says that’s what’s best so you’re all going to have a blanket no matter what.”

“But Dad,” Brittney started to whine, “It’s heavy and it will get in the way on the rides!”

“Excuse me? Are you the father? Your mom says its cold and we need blankets so we will all have blankets since your mother is so wise.”

The feeling in the pit of my stomach had blossomed and deepened like a bruise that ached even when you didn’t touch it. It was the kind of bruise that showed you were fighting cancer and quite possibly losing. I felt consumed by such a bruise. I had gone to doctors, sure that they would find something, but they never did. They said it was in my head. How could what was in my head cause me so much pain that I wanted to double over with the feeling of it?

I had forgotten how Sam would punish me if I didn’t do things his way. There was always a consequence – the more unpredictable and swift, the less easily forgotten. I would have remembered if had thought about it at all. It must be the carnival that had made me think he might be different this time. He had looked at me yesterday like he loved me and was sorry. I hadn’t seen him look at me with that kind of tenderness for a long time. I suppose that’s what I get for putting my hope in just a look. Looks can be easily misinterpreted. I must have misinterpreted his.

“It’s fine, Sam,” I said, trying to backtrack, but knowing at the same time that it was probably useless. I took the blanket off and laid it in the pile. “I’ll leave the blanket here. You’re right. It’s already warmer.”

“No, no, no! If my wife wants a blanket, then she’s going to get a blanket!” He started taking bills out of his wallet. Unfolding twenties, he must have piled close to $200 on top of the pile of blankets. Sam liked to get cash from the bank whenever we went on trips even if it was just a couple of hours down the road like this trip had been for his family reunion. He said you never knew what would happen. This time it was sure lucky because carnival vendors don’t often take checks or credit cards – not that we had seen any – and we had paid for everything we had eaten.

“Sam!” I gasped. “Really! I don’t need the blanket. None of us do! Put the money back! We won’t have enough for food!”

“It doesn’t matter!” he said. “My wife wants a blanket for her and all her family. She’s going to get it.”

I looked around wildly. I didn’t know what to do. How was I going to get him to stop this madness? I had already put my blanket back. I gathered up the blankets he had given to the children and put them back as well. I picked up the money and put it back in Sam’s hand. “Let’s go, Sam. Really. I don’t want a blanket.”

I started trying to push him gently away from the booth and toward the carnival. “Are you sure?” he demanded, “Because nothing’s more important than the comfort of my family.”

I started to breathe more easily. He was relenting. “Yes, yes Sam. I’m sure.”

“All right then,” he grumbled and he stuffed the money back into his wallet.

We started walking and came again to the Teacups ride. The sign above the ride read in big, bold letters, “Commitment to AGENCY: The Teacups Ride.”

“Let’s ride the Teacups!” said Brittney. I knew she was trying to change the subject. She was trying to get our family back to happy again. I felt beat-up already today and it couldn’t be any later than ten in the morning. It was going to be hard to be happy.

Sam seemed fine, though. “It looks like one of the main rides that we have to take. Let’s go first, Sonya, in case there’s something unpredictable that could harm the kids. They can watch and then have a turn if they want.”

Going in circles has always made me sick. Even being on a swing can make me dizzy and nauseous for hours. I felt the big breakfast in which I had indulged still sitting heavily in my stomach. It was already churning from the panic with Sam and I was sure a teacup ride would not be good for it. Dread settled over me. I didn’t have a choice. I was not up to trying to challenge Sam again right now. Maybe I wouldn’t throw up. Maybe it would be all right.

The kids watched as Sam and I walked around the gate circling the teacups and went through the turnstile. I followed a little slower than Sam, taking deep breaths, hoping that giving my stomach some more time to settle would make things easier.

Sam was already settled into a teacup. Sam loved the teacups ride. In fact, he loved all things fast and furious. Roller coasters were one of his favorite things. The more the ride jolted you around, the better. He used to love taking Tom to the carnival when he was little because Tom loved the big rides, too, even when he was little. The same rides come back every year, though, and really, the rides in a traveling carnival are too tame for Sam’s temperament, so eventually, as Tom got older Sam stopped going with him and sent him alone. I was sad to see him stop. They shared so little in the first place.

The thing Sam loved about the teacups ride is that you could make yourself go as fast as you wanted to go. This ride never ceased to entertain him. He could spin and jerk himself around to his heart’s content. The problem this time being that I was with him. That wasn’t going to be a problem for him, I was sure. It would only be a problem for me.

I climbed shakily into the cup with Sam. My face must have been ash-white, because Tom called from the gate, “Hey Mom! Are you feeling all right?”

I smiled at him wearily. It didn’t do me any good to have Tommy notice that I wasn’t feeling well. If Sam was going to order me around and not allow me any leeway on his decisions, then the least he could do was pay attention to how I was feeling so he could make good decisions for me. As it was, even my physical condition didn’t have a voice with Sam.

The ride began and the teacups slowly began to revolve on the arms that held them to the pedestal in the middle. Sam grabbed the wheel in the center of the cup and began to slowly crank us in our own circle as well. “Please, make him stay slow. Please. Please,” I mentally pleaded.

But Sam sped up as the ride sped up until we were whirling madly. The arms of the machine brought us back and forth and around and the arms of Sam sped us around and around and around. I was so sick. I knew I was going to be even sicker.

“Sam!” I finally called out, “Please! Slow down!”

Sam’s eyes were gleaming. He was having too much fun. If he slowed down for me, his own fun would be diminished. Why would he do that? Shouldn’t I care enough about him that I wanted him to be happy? I’d heard all the arguments before.

Eventually, the centrifugal force was too much for my overwrought nerves and motion sensitivity and big breakfast. I started to throw up. I was clutching Sam’s arm to support myself against all the dizzying circles -- so my breakfast went right into his lap – partially digested, of course.

“Sonya!” Sam hollered in disgust. “Aw! Gross!”

He stopped spinning us in circles, but only because he was trying to disentangle me from his arm. The ride was still going though, so he couldn’t stand up. I threw up in his lap again and then I threw up all over his chest. If it were possible for me to feel any worse, I would have felt bad for getting him so gross, but as it was, I couldn’t feel any worse. I was at my absolute worse limit.

Slowly, the ride wound down to a stop. “Oh man, Sonya! This is so disgusting!” Sam said as he finally managed to stand up out of the pile of vomit he had been sitting in.

I had my eyes closed because the world was still spinning. I forced myself to open them and watched as the world tilted high up to the left and then to the right and finally came back down into place. “I tried to tell you,” I gasped, but that was all I could say. I had to fight to keep the world from tilting around me and I was perilously close to throwing up again.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to go on the ride?” Sam demanded.

That was too much for me. I did throw up again. This time on his shoes.