Chapter 8 - Part 2

We passed the blanket booth where we had spent the night and we passed the Rotary booth selling scones. Sonya gripped my arm. I guess she didn’t like the smell so much anymore. We hurried past. We found Tommy studying some carvings in a booth off to the side. The artist had taken a piece of wood, left the bottom untouched and followed the grain of the wood to decide whether he would make half a man or an eagle or a deer. The effect was to create the illusion that the living thing was emerging from the inanimate object. I felt that way much about my heart right now.

“Aren’t they wonderful?” Sonya asked Tommy. “I bet you could do that if you tried!”

Tom’s face twisted in self-deprecation, “No! I couldn’t do that. I was just admiring them. I like how they look – that’s all.”

“I like how they look, too,” she said, “and I bet you could do it.”

I thought they looked like a monumental waste of time. At any other time I probably would have said so. But I wasn’t ready to stop being gentle to Sonya right now.

A couple of years back I hit my hand against the wall. I was in a rage against Sonya for something she hadn’t done for me. I broke several of the small bones in my hand. The doctor said he couldn’t do much for me. He’d immobilize it and then I’d just have to treat it gently until it healed. Something about today reminded me of breaking my hand. Sometimes I guess relationships are the same way. You just have to treat them gently until they are healed – maybe even after that too.

Sonya doesn’t usually make breakfast. She always makes dinner. I think it’s important for dinner to be provided for the family. I let Sonya know that early in our relationship. Breakfast, though, is different. We all usually eat at different times. Tom’s school, the high school, starts earlier than the elementary school for Brittney does. The kids usually prefer cold cereal, anyway, so it’s not a big deal, I don’t think.

Sonya does sometimes eat breakfast with me, though, if she’s not busy helping Tom and Brittney get off to school. If she’s making herself some eggs, she’ll offer to make me some – that sort of thing. Like I said, it’s not a big deal.

One week, though, I was having a really rough week at work. Word had come down through management that new layoffs would be made at the end of the week. I am no stranger to layoffs, but I still hate them, and right then would have been a particularly hard time to be laid off because our savings were low from having to fix the transmission on the car and having just gotten through Christmas. I could feel the anxiety eating away at me. On top of that, I had to report to management that week on what our group had accomplished thus far and our projected finish dates for the completed project. The stress was unbelievable. I’ve never felt so torn-up.

So, during that week I got this idea in my head, that because the week was so tough for me, that Sonya should do things to make it easier. After all, didn’t this affect all of us? Shouldn’t she do her part? I decided that for that week – just that week – Sonya should think to make breakfast for me. If she really loved me, she would think of that and make me breakfast just to show that she cared.

I made my own breakfast that first morning, watching Sonya carefully to see if she would stop me and offer to make the breakfast herself. She didn’t. She didn’t the next day either. On the third day, I waited and waited, and finally crashed the pans and slammed boxes as I made it myself. You’d think she’d get it then. She didn’t. The fourth day I resolved to not eat at all unless she cooked for me. I sat and stared at her while she ate. “Are you not hungry this morning, Sam?” she had asked me.

On the last day of the week, I blew up at her and told her that she knew my week had been hard and that she should have thought to make me breakfast and that now I knew she didn’t care about me. I stopped talking to her after that.

That was horrible, too, because it ended up that I didn’t get laid off, and the report to management was brilliant and went off without a hitch. Instead of being able to come home and celebrate, though, I couldn’t even tell Sonya about it. In fact, I couldn’t even be happy because I had already decided to be mad at Sonya. I couldn’t talk to her for at least a week.

I kept my resolve, and didn’t talk to Sonya for a week. I guess that is what Ken was talking about when he said I shouldn’t make up artificial consequences. I think I wouldn’t mind not doing that anymore. It is pretty miserable. I missed out not talking with Sonya and not sharing something great that happened at work. I also missed out on some great breakfasts. Sonya made me breakfast everyday the next week and I left for work without ever touching it. I guess that just proves two things. One, I’m a master at artificial consequences -- and two, I’m hurting myself every time I create a new one.

Brittney came over and took my hand. “Did you see that big roller coaster over there, Daddy? Can we go on it?”

I looked down at Britt. “I thought you didn’t like roller coasters, Brittney.”

“I like them if you’re with me!” she cried.

I smiled. I would have laughed if my heart had been lighter. I looked over toward where Brittney had pointed. There definitely was a big roller coaster in the park. The steel track rose above the other attractions and came down a steep hill before going through a loop and up more big hills.

I whistled. “That is a big roller coaster,” I said.

“It’s way better than any of the rides that come to our town’s carnival,” Tom said in envy from my shoulder.

I had to agree. In fact, it looked way too big to be part of a traveling carnival. I wondered when I would stop expecting things to be normal. After all, who said it was a traveling carnival? For all we knew, Ken had it all set up in his backyard.

“Well, let’s go see it,” I said to Brittney. “If that’s okay with Mom,” I added hastily trying to remember this new lesson I had learned.

It was okay with Mom and we headed back out from the craft booths and past the teacups and past the bumper cars, which I eyed speculatively, trying to remember what Ken had said after that ride yesterday. We reached the bottom of the roller coaster and looked up. The first climb was very, very high. That made me excited in spite of myself.

I looked down at Brittney, “Are you sure you want to go on that thing? It looks pretty scary!”

Brittney wrapped both her arms around one of mine. “I’ll hold on to you!” she said.

“Alright then, I guess we’re going on the roller coaster!”

“YEA!” Brittney cried.

“Unless . . .” I paused searching out Sonya’s still pale face, “Unless you don’t want to Sonya. I can go with the kids.”

Relief washed over Sonya’s face. Guilt twisted my insides. Was I really such a dictator? “I think I will just watch, if that’s okay with you,” Sonya said.

“That’ll be fine,” I tried to assure her. I hoped she believed me.

“What do you say, Tom? You coming with us?”

Tom let out a loud whoop and headed for the turnstile. I turned to Britt. “I guess he’s coming,” I said. She jumped up and down and started pulling me toward the entrance.

We went through the turnstile. As we did so, I saw that the sign said, “Commitment to GROWTH: The Roller Coaster Ride.” I groaned inwardly. That must mean another lesson. Didn’t this carnival have any regular rides?

Brittney and Tom were already in cars and strapped in. Brittney was motioning me toward the place next to her. “You have to keep me safe!” she said as she snuggled into me waiting for the ride to start. I had to keep her safe. I had to keep everybody safe – Sonya and Tommy, too.

A recorded voice came over the loud system saying to keep our hands and feet inside the car at all times and that the bars in front of us would lower and lock into place as the ride started, yada yada yada. Yeah, yeah, we’d heard it all before. Then the cars lurched forward and we were on our way.

We headed straight for the first immense hill. The cars slowed as traction grabbed them and started pulling us upward, clack, clack, clack, clack. Then there was a loud clack and a jerk and the cars froze in place. They wouldn’t go any farther upward.

I looked around us. We couldn’t be more than half-way to the top and we were stuck. Wow. A lot of fun this ride was going to be. So much for what seemed like the terrific promise of a great time. It was the story of my life I thought disgruntled and then started looking around for a way back to the ground.