Chapter 13 – Tom
I felt my dad’s arms around me and felt like I was in a dream. It felt like the kind of dream that you wake up from and wish you could stay asleep just so you could burrow back into that happiness your mind had created and that you were sure you wouldn’t find in the waking world. This felt safer than that, though. It didn’t feel like it would disappear. I wouldn’t let the memory of it disappear in any case. This would always be mine.
Dad let go of me finally and we both laughed, as we had to dry our eyes. Mom and Brittney laughed, too.
It was time to go on to more scenes from our lives, though and suddenly we were in a theatre. I didn’t recognize the place at all, but then I saw a shadow of mom walk onto the stage with a man I didn’t recognize either and they started to sing. I looked over at mom and all the color had drained from her face. I was afraid she might faint. I went over to catch her if she fell. At almost the same moment I heard Dad say, “Oh no. Not this. I can’t face this again.”
I patted Dad on the back. “You can do it, Dad. I know you can.” I did know he could. He had just faced his demons with me. He could do it here as well. Dad looked at me for a long moment. Then his face seemed to shift from despair to resolve and he went down the aisle to find his shadow self.
We watched him go and then the scene shifted again and the last of the well-wishers were saying goodbye to my mom’s shadow self. My father sat alone in the middle of the theatre where he had watched the recital and where he had not moved since it ended. It must be exactly like it had been after that last recital of my mother’s. The difference this time, though, was that my dad stood behind my shadow dad and I knew he’d be urging him to respond differently. Hopefully, the old dad would listen to the promptings that would be given to him.
My mom stood with us watching tensely. Then she, too, left us and went to follow her shadow self to where my dad sat.
My shadow mom sat down next to my shadow dad. She looked beautiful and she was smiling radiantly. I had never seen her that way before. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She looked almost like a different person entirely. She was so full of some kind of energy. It must be energy that the singing gave to her or maybe the performing or maybe both. Her smile faded quickly, though, as she saw my father’s face.
My now dad bent and started whispering frantically into his own ear. The shadow dad who looked like he had been about to say something harsh, responded by pursing his lips instead and turning away.
My shadow mom with my real mom behind her, leaned forward and put her hand on his knee. “What’s the matter, Sam?” she asked. “Didn’t you like the show?”
My dad started whispering again in that old dad’s ear – frantically – over and over. I saw some of the tension go out of the man in the seats and with it some of the anger, too. “I want to be honest with you, Sonya,” he said. “I love to hear you sing. It’s one of my favorite things in the whole world.”
My mother smiled tenderly at him. Brittney leaned over to me and whispered, “Affirming Worth!” She was consulting her papers.
“But –“ my dad continued, “when you sang with that man,” my dad stopped and shook his head, “I don’t know what happened to me. I hated it! I’ve always felt like singing was something we shared since we met at one of your recitals, but when I saw you sing with that man, I thought that I’ve been a fool – it’s not something I can ever share with you like that man did. I just –“ dad broke off before starting again, “I just don’t want to have to share you.”
I leaned over to Brittney and whispered, “Integrity.” She shuffled her papers and then gave me a thumbs up.
“Oh Sam,” my mom said and she took his face in both of her hands, “Thank you for telling me honestly how you feel. That means so much to me! And, just so you know, you don’t ever have to share me. I love to sing to you. I love to see your face in the audience. It’s only you I ever really sing to.” Then she laughed. “You know, I didn’t much like singing with that other man, either.”
“You didn’t?” Dad asked –incredulous, hopeful.
“No,” mom admitted, “Maybe –“ she stopped to think as our mom from today put her hand on her shoulder and told her something. Then the shadow mom shook her head, “No. I was going to say, that maybe I could ask to not sing with any other men again, but I know there are things I can’t learn any other way and I want to be the best that I can be. Can you understand that Sam?”
Dad slowly nodded.
“You are just going to have to trust me, Sam. I am your wife and a shared song can’t change that.”
“I’m afraid that I’ll need you to remind me a whole lot,” Dad admitted.
Mom laughed, her radiance from the show still lighting her up. “That’s a deal, Sam. I will try my best. I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too, Sonya,” he said and he kissed her there in the recital hall before the scene dissolved around us once again.
Then it was my real dad facing my real mom. “Thank you,” Mom said.
“I do love you, Sonya,” Dad said. “And I do want you to sing.”
“I do so want to sing, Sam,” Mom said closing her eyes. “But I do love you, too.”
Dad took Mom’s hand and they walked back over to where we were standing. “Way to go Dad!” Brittney said giving him a high five. I gave him a high five, too. Then we high-fived Mom. It was a good break before we had to face our next ghosts from the past.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Chapter 12 - Part 2
“Let’s go then,” I said.
The haunted house didn’t look any better in the relative daylight that came through the grey covering of the carnival than it had last night. Cobwebs still hung from the window frames and the balconies. Why were there always cobwebs on haunted houses anyway? I supposed it was to imply that this was a place people avoided – a place no one wanted to revisit.
We stood looking at the house when we suddenly realized that Ken was standing by our side. “There’s really not anything to fear in there, you know,” Ken said.
We all turned to face him. “There are scary things,” Ken said looking back toward the house and nodding his head, “but you’ve been on the other rides. They’ve prepared you and so, now, you have no reason to fear.”
He smiled at us. For some reason, I did not feel better.
“I think for this ride, I had best talk to you before the attraction. Trusting your instincts. Brittney, why do you think we have emotions?”
Brittney furrowed her eyebrows. “To make life better?”
“Ah yes,” Ken said. “Would you agree, Tom?”
Tom seemed to think hard before responding, as well. “Well,” he faltered, “I think some emotions make life better – like when we feel happy or safe or loved, but . . . other emotions sometimes can really hurt.”
“Why do you think we have those emotions?” Ken asked.
“We just do. We’re just human!” Tom said.
“There must be a reason. Come on, Tom.”
Tom frowned. “Maybe it’s like survival,” Tom guessed. “Maybe we need to stay away from things that hurt because they’re bad for us.”
“What do you think, Sonya?” Ken asked.
“I think Tom was very intuitive to say that they can be warnings. I don’t think the warning is telling us to stay away, though. I think it’s telling us to do something different.”
“Have you ever followed your emotions and been glad you did, Sam?” Ken asked turning to me.
I had married Sonya, hadn’t I? “Oh yes,” I said.
“Then don’t you think you should pay attention to your emotions and what they are telling you?” he asked looking at all of us now. “They’re very powerful markers for finding your way. Don’t you think they can be?”
I hadn’t really considered it before. Mainly emotions were just something I had to live through. They seemed to crop up everywhere and threatened to drown me most of the time. I was used to just shoving them out of the way as best I could. I thought about, though, how bad I had felt every time I ever yelled at Sonya, though. That was telling me something wasn’t it? And it wasn’t too hard to figure out what it was.
I looked up to answer Ken, but he was gone.
Brittney was looking around, her eyes big from him having disappeared again. “Good bye, Ken!” she whispered. “Thank you!”
I grimaced. Hopefully this haunted house would get us out of here and we wouldn’t have to be haunted by disappearing therapists any longer. Not that I wasn’t grateful -- I was. It’s just that after you do some learning for awhile, you get anxious to start doing some applying. Life has to start again sometime.
I was ready. I took Sonya’s hand, motioned to the kids, and we went through the front door of the old Victorian mansion. We found ourselves in an entryway – dark, as would be expected with a large chandelier overhead that had more cobwebs hanging from it. There was a door at the back of the room. We made our way toward it and I opened it.
To my surprise, once we went through that doorway, we were no longer in the carnival’s haunted house. We were in our house. I looked at the others in surprise. Then I heard Tom and Brittney’s voices, but I was looking at Tom and Brittney and they weren’t talking. I whipped back around and the younger versions of Tom and Brittney walked into the hall.
“Tom!” Brittney hollered, “Can you please drive me to Shelby’s house?”
“What for?” Tommy demanded.
“It’s her birthday today!” Brittney wailed. “Mom forgot and she already promised you the car and Dad has already gone to meet with Mr. Boscoe on their project. Please, Tommy?? Shelby always has the best parties and everyone I know is going!”
“What time is it at?” Tommy growled.
“Not until four!” she said practically jumping up and down. I could see the hope bursting in her eyes.
“All right,” I heard Tommy say. “I have to go to the library but I’ll come back and get you and take you to Shelby’s.”
“Thank you, Tommy! Thank you!”
Brittney raced back up the hallway and Tommy left the house in the other direction.
The real Brittney and Tommy were right next to me still and both looked sick to their stomachs. Brittney looked like she was going to cry and Tom looked like someone had hit him. “What’s going on?” I demanded.
Tom looked around wildly. “I can’t let him forget. Not this time.” He turned and grabbed Brittney’s shoulders. “That’s not me anymore, Britt. I will keep my promises to you!” Then he turned and before I could stop him, he ran down the hallway and out the door that his younger self had just exited.
“Hey!” I yelled, but he was already out of reach, of course. I looked at Sonya in exasperation. “I thought we were going to stay together!”
Sonya put her hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s scary, but it seems there’s something he has to do.”
The house seemed to get darker and the younger Brittney came skipping out of her room in different clothes and her hair done. She went down the stairs and into the kitchen. The rest of us followed her.
A younger Sonya was in the kitchen. “It’s almost time for that party, Brittney, and Tom’s not back. Do you want me to call one of your friend’s mothers and see if they can drive you over to the party? I could call Sarah’s mom.”
“No,” Brittney said. “I asked Tom. He said he would. He’ll be here.”
Then I understood what was happening. I remembered the day when Tom hadn’t come to take Britt to her party. I had come home to find her crying in her room. I looked at Sonya in alarm. She looked at me and shook her head. She was telling me there was nothing we could do – we’d have to let it play out again and see what happened.
Suddenly I heard the wheels squeal outside and headlights swung into the driveway. “He’s here! I knew he’d come!” Brittney cheered. She ran and gave Sonya a kiss. “See you later, Mom!” she called and she was out the door. We followed her into the front room and watched as she climbed into the car with Tommy and then pulled away. A few seconds later, the older Tom came back into the room with us.
“Oh!” Sonya cried and hugged him. She had been worried when he ran off like that. I thought so. “How did you fix it?” she asked him.
Tom shrugged. “It was me, after all. I just thought the thoughts I should have thought – and paid attention to how my decisions made me feel. Before I knew it, I was turning the car around and heading home.”
Tom looked out the window after the retreating car. “I’ll probably miss my movie, but I’ll have kept my commitments.” He looked down at Brittney and ruffled her hair. “You are way more important to me than a movie anyway.”
She smiled up at him and hugged him so tight it looked like she might break him in half. I smiled, too. That felt good. We could definitely use more of that in our family.
We didn’t get much time to enjoy it, though. As we turned around, the scene around us dissolved and we were at the high school. We were standing next to our car. Inside it was a different me and a different Tom. Tom looked petrified. “You’ll pick me up, Dad, won’t you?” he asked me. “You’ll be here when I’m done?”
“Tom! I’ve got to meet with Harry and go over the programming he’s done for me. I have things to do to support this family and you can walk home. It is not that far.”
“Dad!” he said. “Please! Just today? Just on the first day of practice?”
I watched myself turn away from him and my heart sank. “Fine,” I heard myself say. “I’ll come.” But I knew as I listened to myself that I had never meant it – not even in that very first instant. I just wanted him out of the car so I could get going. How much had I hurt my boy that day? Why hadn’t I noticed that he needed me?
Now it was my turn to leave the family and follow the shadow of myself to make things right. I followed myself to the house of my friend, Harry. I remember that day that he went on and on about the programming he’d done. I watched myself listen to him patiently. But, then as the clock got near six o’clock, I made myself notice my watch and think of Tommy and remember my promise. My shadow self ignored me. I wanted to curse he made me so mad.
Then I remembered the papers in my pocket. I got out the one on Integrity. I read out loud, “Unless I am released from commitments, I must keep them.”
I watched myself for any change in resolution. I repeated it in my ear. Then I repeated it again and again. “Unless I am released from commitments, I must keep them. Unless I am released from commitments, I must keep them.”
Suddenly my shadow self stood up abruptly. “Thanks, Harry! I think you’ve done a great job and I appreciate your help. I hate to run out, but I promised my son I’d pick him up from football practice and I’m already a little bit late.”
Harry looked at me in surprise, but quickly recovered himself. “I completely understand, Sam. You’ve got to be there for your kids and I can forward the rest of this to you tonight.”
“That would be great, Harry.” I watched as we shook hands. Then I was out of there and we were headed back to the ball field.
As I pulled up, I saw one of the coaches alone there with Tommy. Everyone else had left. My heart twisted inside of me. I had never thought what it had been like for Tommy as he waited for me. I knew he had gotten home all right in the end, but I didn’t think of the in-between time when he hadn’t given up on me yet, and his hope struggled with the facts that were becoming more and more clear. I ached for him as I heard him tell this coach, “No thanks. You go. He’ll come.”
There were tears in my eyes as I watched my shadow self pull up in front of Tom and saw the relief and happiness wash over Tommy’s face. I fumbled in my pocket for another sheet of paper. I quickly read, “All persons, including self, are of infinite worth.”
Then I heard my shadow self say, “Sorry I’m late, Tommy, but thanks for waiting. I’m glad I could be here for you. I sure love you.”
Tommy’s grin stretched across his entire face. I’d never seen him look at me like that before. Then the scene dissolved and I was sobbing quietly into my hands and I could feel Tom’s arm around me. “I wish it had been that way, Tommy. I really wish it had!”
“I love you, too, Dad,” Tommy said and I gathered that boy of mine into my arms and it was a long time before I let him go.
The haunted house didn’t look any better in the relative daylight that came through the grey covering of the carnival than it had last night. Cobwebs still hung from the window frames and the balconies. Why were there always cobwebs on haunted houses anyway? I supposed it was to imply that this was a place people avoided – a place no one wanted to revisit.
We stood looking at the house when we suddenly realized that Ken was standing by our side. “There’s really not anything to fear in there, you know,” Ken said.
We all turned to face him. “There are scary things,” Ken said looking back toward the house and nodding his head, “but you’ve been on the other rides. They’ve prepared you and so, now, you have no reason to fear.”
He smiled at us. For some reason, I did not feel better.
“I think for this ride, I had best talk to you before the attraction. Trusting your instincts. Brittney, why do you think we have emotions?”
Brittney furrowed her eyebrows. “To make life better?”
“Ah yes,” Ken said. “Would you agree, Tom?”
Tom seemed to think hard before responding, as well. “Well,” he faltered, “I think some emotions make life better – like when we feel happy or safe or loved, but . . . other emotions sometimes can really hurt.”
“Why do you think we have those emotions?” Ken asked.
“We just do. We’re just human!” Tom said.
“There must be a reason. Come on, Tom.”
Tom frowned. “Maybe it’s like survival,” Tom guessed. “Maybe we need to stay away from things that hurt because they’re bad for us.”
“What do you think, Sonya?” Ken asked.
“I think Tom was very intuitive to say that they can be warnings. I don’t think the warning is telling us to stay away, though. I think it’s telling us to do something different.”
“Have you ever followed your emotions and been glad you did, Sam?” Ken asked turning to me.
I had married Sonya, hadn’t I? “Oh yes,” I said.
“Then don’t you think you should pay attention to your emotions and what they are telling you?” he asked looking at all of us now. “They’re very powerful markers for finding your way. Don’t you think they can be?”
I hadn’t really considered it before. Mainly emotions were just something I had to live through. They seemed to crop up everywhere and threatened to drown me most of the time. I was used to just shoving them out of the way as best I could. I thought about, though, how bad I had felt every time I ever yelled at Sonya, though. That was telling me something wasn’t it? And it wasn’t too hard to figure out what it was.
I looked up to answer Ken, but he was gone.
Brittney was looking around, her eyes big from him having disappeared again. “Good bye, Ken!” she whispered. “Thank you!”
I grimaced. Hopefully this haunted house would get us out of here and we wouldn’t have to be haunted by disappearing therapists any longer. Not that I wasn’t grateful -- I was. It’s just that after you do some learning for awhile, you get anxious to start doing some applying. Life has to start again sometime.
I was ready. I took Sonya’s hand, motioned to the kids, and we went through the front door of the old Victorian mansion. We found ourselves in an entryway – dark, as would be expected with a large chandelier overhead that had more cobwebs hanging from it. There was a door at the back of the room. We made our way toward it and I opened it.
To my surprise, once we went through that doorway, we were no longer in the carnival’s haunted house. We were in our house. I looked at the others in surprise. Then I heard Tom and Brittney’s voices, but I was looking at Tom and Brittney and they weren’t talking. I whipped back around and the younger versions of Tom and Brittney walked into the hall.
“Tom!” Brittney hollered, “Can you please drive me to Shelby’s house?”
“What for?” Tommy demanded.
“It’s her birthday today!” Brittney wailed. “Mom forgot and she already promised you the car and Dad has already gone to meet with Mr. Boscoe on their project. Please, Tommy?? Shelby always has the best parties and everyone I know is going!”
“What time is it at?” Tommy growled.
“Not until four!” she said practically jumping up and down. I could see the hope bursting in her eyes.
“All right,” I heard Tommy say. “I have to go to the library but I’ll come back and get you and take you to Shelby’s.”
“Thank you, Tommy! Thank you!”
Brittney raced back up the hallway and Tommy left the house in the other direction.
The real Brittney and Tommy were right next to me still and both looked sick to their stomachs. Brittney looked like she was going to cry and Tom looked like someone had hit him. “What’s going on?” I demanded.
Tom looked around wildly. “I can’t let him forget. Not this time.” He turned and grabbed Brittney’s shoulders. “That’s not me anymore, Britt. I will keep my promises to you!” Then he turned and before I could stop him, he ran down the hallway and out the door that his younger self had just exited.
“Hey!” I yelled, but he was already out of reach, of course. I looked at Sonya in exasperation. “I thought we were going to stay together!”
Sonya put her hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s scary, but it seems there’s something he has to do.”
The house seemed to get darker and the younger Brittney came skipping out of her room in different clothes and her hair done. She went down the stairs and into the kitchen. The rest of us followed her.
A younger Sonya was in the kitchen. “It’s almost time for that party, Brittney, and Tom’s not back. Do you want me to call one of your friend’s mothers and see if they can drive you over to the party? I could call Sarah’s mom.”
“No,” Brittney said. “I asked Tom. He said he would. He’ll be here.”
Then I understood what was happening. I remembered the day when Tom hadn’t come to take Britt to her party. I had come home to find her crying in her room. I looked at Sonya in alarm. She looked at me and shook her head. She was telling me there was nothing we could do – we’d have to let it play out again and see what happened.
Suddenly I heard the wheels squeal outside and headlights swung into the driveway. “He’s here! I knew he’d come!” Brittney cheered. She ran and gave Sonya a kiss. “See you later, Mom!” she called and she was out the door. We followed her into the front room and watched as she climbed into the car with Tommy and then pulled away. A few seconds later, the older Tom came back into the room with us.
“Oh!” Sonya cried and hugged him. She had been worried when he ran off like that. I thought so. “How did you fix it?” she asked him.
Tom shrugged. “It was me, after all. I just thought the thoughts I should have thought – and paid attention to how my decisions made me feel. Before I knew it, I was turning the car around and heading home.”
Tom looked out the window after the retreating car. “I’ll probably miss my movie, but I’ll have kept my commitments.” He looked down at Brittney and ruffled her hair. “You are way more important to me than a movie anyway.”
She smiled up at him and hugged him so tight it looked like she might break him in half. I smiled, too. That felt good. We could definitely use more of that in our family.
We didn’t get much time to enjoy it, though. As we turned around, the scene around us dissolved and we were at the high school. We were standing next to our car. Inside it was a different me and a different Tom. Tom looked petrified. “You’ll pick me up, Dad, won’t you?” he asked me. “You’ll be here when I’m done?”
“Tom! I’ve got to meet with Harry and go over the programming he’s done for me. I have things to do to support this family and you can walk home. It is not that far.”
“Dad!” he said. “Please! Just today? Just on the first day of practice?”
I watched myself turn away from him and my heart sank. “Fine,” I heard myself say. “I’ll come.” But I knew as I listened to myself that I had never meant it – not even in that very first instant. I just wanted him out of the car so I could get going. How much had I hurt my boy that day? Why hadn’t I noticed that he needed me?
Now it was my turn to leave the family and follow the shadow of myself to make things right. I followed myself to the house of my friend, Harry. I remember that day that he went on and on about the programming he’d done. I watched myself listen to him patiently. But, then as the clock got near six o’clock, I made myself notice my watch and think of Tommy and remember my promise. My shadow self ignored me. I wanted to curse he made me so mad.
Then I remembered the papers in my pocket. I got out the one on Integrity. I read out loud, “Unless I am released from commitments, I must keep them.”
I watched myself for any change in resolution. I repeated it in my ear. Then I repeated it again and again. “Unless I am released from commitments, I must keep them. Unless I am released from commitments, I must keep them.”
Suddenly my shadow self stood up abruptly. “Thanks, Harry! I think you’ve done a great job and I appreciate your help. I hate to run out, but I promised my son I’d pick him up from football practice and I’m already a little bit late.”
Harry looked at me in surprise, but quickly recovered himself. “I completely understand, Sam. You’ve got to be there for your kids and I can forward the rest of this to you tonight.”
“That would be great, Harry.” I watched as we shook hands. Then I was out of there and we were headed back to the ball field.
As I pulled up, I saw one of the coaches alone there with Tommy. Everyone else had left. My heart twisted inside of me. I had never thought what it had been like for Tommy as he waited for me. I knew he had gotten home all right in the end, but I didn’t think of the in-between time when he hadn’t given up on me yet, and his hope struggled with the facts that were becoming more and more clear. I ached for him as I heard him tell this coach, “No thanks. You go. He’ll come.”
There were tears in my eyes as I watched my shadow self pull up in front of Tom and saw the relief and happiness wash over Tommy’s face. I fumbled in my pocket for another sheet of paper. I quickly read, “All persons, including self, are of infinite worth.”
Then I heard my shadow self say, “Sorry I’m late, Tommy, but thanks for waiting. I’m glad I could be here for you. I sure love you.”
Tommy’s grin stretched across his entire face. I’d never seen him look at me like that before. Then the scene dissolved and I was sobbing quietly into my hands and I could feel Tom’s arm around me. “I wish it had been that way, Tommy. I really wish it had!”
“I love you, too, Dad,” Tommy said and I gathered that boy of mine into my arms and it was a long time before I let him go.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Chapter 12 - Part 1
Chapter 12 – Sam
After we ate, we found our way back to the craft booth with the blankets. That was kind of a miracle in itself. After wandering around, lost, in the craft booths today, I was starting to believe Brittney, that the carnival kept changing every time our backs were turned.
We got wrapped up in our blankets and laid down on a big pile. I was next to Sonya, of course, but I could see Tommy curled up in the corner. I found myself thinking about him.
I remember the day that Tommy was born. Sonya labored most of the day before we finally went to the hospital. She got more and more uncomfortable. I remember that it was hard for me to see her suffer and not be able to do anything about it. Then the moment arrived and they took that little, wiggling, bloody baby and put him in my arms. I tell, you – it sounds gross – but it was the most amazing moment of my life. I was a dad and he was a boy! I had a son. He was a part of me. He belonged to me in a way no one else could. It’s hard to put into words all the feelings I felt at that moment, but oh, how I loved that little ball of goo and his mother, too, and right at that moment I knew our lives were going to be perfect. How could they not when we’d been given such a gift?
What is it about boys and their dads? They’re sure easy to love when they are little. Maybe it’s because we as men feel so much pressure to be a certain way. We want our boys to grow up to be men that other men admire. That’s our son ,after all, and it reflects on us.
But then they get really older and they do start acting like men and even though you’ve been hard on them while they were growing up, trying to get them to be just so, they may not pay the slightest attention to what you tried to teach them. They still act exactly the way they want to. Molding kids is not exactly like molding clay. It’s more like the spongy material they use in those stress-relief balls. You can smash it and change its shape but when you let go it slowly pops back into place, as if you hadn’t been there at all!
So, then they get older and instead of wanting them to be the kind of man that is admired by other men, you want to feel that the man that they’ve become admires the man that you are – not just as a dad, but individually as a man. So, now, if you have trouble feeling adequate in the first place (which I do! I know it!), all that is represented in this boy, the man you care the most about in all the world, and he’s right there in the house with you and you can’t get away from the derision you see sometimes in his eyes – well, what then? I’ll tell you what then. You backtrack. You try to tell yourself that you don’t care about that boy. You tell yourself that he’s defective and his opinions about you don’t matter. You build walls of anger around you and you strike out if they get too close. It’s safer that way. Much safer.
But sometimes, at unguarded moments, you remember the little, tousled-haired boy who would shout, “Daddy!” and run into your arms as you came home from work. Sometimes you remember the feel of his hand wrapped trustingly around one of your fingers as you walked to the store or the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around your neck as his mom tried to pry him off so you can go to work, “Don’t go, Daddy! Don’t go!” he wails. Sometimes you remember those moments and you ache and you wish there were no wall and you wish you could go on carnival rides together again. You wish, with your whole heart, that you could be friends.
But what if he doesn’t want to be friends with me? What if he doesn’t admire or like me anymore? That’s when the wall starts going back up. But today I try to consider it. Can I risk like that? Can I love like that? Can I love him even if he rejects me? Honestly, I don’t know if I am that strong. It is hard to see the little boy when the soon-to-be man is right in front of your face.
How do I build a relationship with the man? The image of the cars stuck on the roller coaster came again into my mind. If I wanted a relationship, I’d have to work on it. It wouldn’t just be handed to me. The message was clear.
I rolled over. I felt a little better. At least I had something to work on. At least I wasn’t faced with the hopelessness I usually felt when I thought about Tom. Maybe there was something I could do. Maybe if we did stuff together I would find things I liked about him – even if they weren’t the things I had tried to teach him to do. After all, he was my boy. Shouldn’t that be enough?
I pushed my doubts and fears away. I had something to work on. For now, that was enough. Maybe I would face my other fears another day. I searched for sleep that wouldn’t come.
**
I finally fell asleep a few hours later. I dreamed of roller coaster rides that dipped and spun and left me wanting more. I dreamt of slow tea cup rides where nobody got sick and everybody had a say. I dreamt of mirrors that showed things only as they really are and of boat rides with my family safely around me inside the boat and not floating separately through the dark water.
I gradually became aware of sunlight shining through my eyelids and I woke up – happy. It had been a long time since dreams had left me that way. I kept my eyes closed to enjoy the feeling a little bit longer. I knew I hadn’t gotten much sleep and that I would normally be grumpy. Today felt good, though, as though, dared I say it, it were sun-kissed.
That was when I smelled scones and honey-butter. My eyes flew open and I struggled up from our nest of blankets. “You got more scones?” I asked Sonya in disbelief.
She was smiling and she nodded. “Well, it’s better than hot dogs for breakfast don’t you think?”
“It definitely is!” I agreed. “But I thought that maybe after yesterday, it might not sound very good to you.” I tried to sound apologetic. I really did feel bad about that. How could I have made her so sick?
“I think I’ll be all right,” she said. “Besides, I know how much you like scones.”
She really did love me. I didn’t deserve her. I leaned over and kissed her. “I love you, Sonya. I’m sorry.”
She smiled at me and said, “I know.”
But did she know? I wasn’t even sure everything I meant to convey in that one I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you sick yesterday. I’m sorry I’m so hard to live with. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you over and over and over again. I looked at her miserably.
She laughed. “Come on, Sam! It’s not so bad. We’ll work it out, won’t we?” Then the smile disappeared from her face and she said pleadingly, “We will work on it, right Sam? We won’t let things go on as they have before? Say we won’t!”
I pulled her close to me. “We won’t,” I promised her and I thought of what I had learned in the house of mirrors and knew that I meant to keep all of my promises from now on. Fear grabbed at me none the less, “I’ll need your help, though, Sonya.”
“I think Ken was trying to tell me yesterday that it’s not right for me to try to rescue people – especially the people I love,” Sonya said thoughtfully. “But I’m going to start standing up for myself, Sam, and for our family, and I think that will help you. You won’t be able to forget, anyway.”
That would be an important first step. I patted my front shirt pocket, “I’ll keep my lists handy.”
Sonya laughed. “Good idea,” she said.
We woke up the kids and ate our scones hot.
Brittney sighed as she finished her last bite and licked her fingers clean. “I love the food here,” she said wistfully, “I sure am going to miss it.”
“Miss it?” I asked. “I thought you were the one who was so sure that we would be stuck here forever!”
“No,” Brittney said. She had an ease of changing her mind that only a ten-year-old could possess. “We’ll go in the haunted house today and then we’ll get out. I know it.”
I looked at Sonya. She smiled and shrugged, “I guess that’s settled then!” she said.
“I guess so,” I replied shaking my head. “Let’s clean up and get going then!”
We folded the blankets and tried to leave things how we had found them. We threw our paper plates and plastic forks away in a trash can not far away and we trooped off to find a bathroom so we could freshen up a little bit.
Then we met outside. “Well,” I asked everyone, “Brittney says this will be the last thing we do here, so is there anything else any of you want to do before we go in the Haunted House?”
“I’d like to do anything beside go in the Haunted House!” Brittney declared.
I smiled at her. Actually, I knew how she felt. I felt a sort of dread whenever I looked at the place, but I felt that she was right, too. I felt like going there was key to getting out of here. Sometimes there were things you didn’t want to do, but you just had to face them and get them done.
At work, I usually brought lunch in a paper bag and just threw everything away when I was done, but one day, I decided to bring a plate of leftovers from home. We had a microwave and a sink at work, so I heated it up and brought it back to my desk to finish my work. When I was done, I knew I should take it to the sink and get it cleaned up, but I was in the middle of a project and I just didn’t want to face the goo right then -- so I ignored it. It was still there the next day, looking worse and harder to wash, so I stuck it in a drawer thinking that it would be good to have it out of the way until I was ready to deal with it. Not so. I found it on accident several weeks later. There were things growing on it and the smell was absolutely horrible. I would have just thrown it away if Sonya hadn’t wanted it back as part of her matched set. Washing it was a bear, too. The food seemed to have turned to concrete. Some things in life are like that. Come to think of it, maybe all things in life are like that. If you don’t face them, they get worse.
After we ate, we found our way back to the craft booth with the blankets. That was kind of a miracle in itself. After wandering around, lost, in the craft booths today, I was starting to believe Brittney, that the carnival kept changing every time our backs were turned.
We got wrapped up in our blankets and laid down on a big pile. I was next to Sonya, of course, but I could see Tommy curled up in the corner. I found myself thinking about him.
I remember the day that Tommy was born. Sonya labored most of the day before we finally went to the hospital. She got more and more uncomfortable. I remember that it was hard for me to see her suffer and not be able to do anything about it. Then the moment arrived and they took that little, wiggling, bloody baby and put him in my arms. I tell, you – it sounds gross – but it was the most amazing moment of my life. I was a dad and he was a boy! I had a son. He was a part of me. He belonged to me in a way no one else could. It’s hard to put into words all the feelings I felt at that moment, but oh, how I loved that little ball of goo and his mother, too, and right at that moment I knew our lives were going to be perfect. How could they not when we’d been given such a gift?
What is it about boys and their dads? They’re sure easy to love when they are little. Maybe it’s because we as men feel so much pressure to be a certain way. We want our boys to grow up to be men that other men admire. That’s our son ,after all, and it reflects on us.
But then they get really older and they do start acting like men and even though you’ve been hard on them while they were growing up, trying to get them to be just so, they may not pay the slightest attention to what you tried to teach them. They still act exactly the way they want to. Molding kids is not exactly like molding clay. It’s more like the spongy material they use in those stress-relief balls. You can smash it and change its shape but when you let go it slowly pops back into place, as if you hadn’t been there at all!
So, then they get older and instead of wanting them to be the kind of man that is admired by other men, you want to feel that the man that they’ve become admires the man that you are – not just as a dad, but individually as a man. So, now, if you have trouble feeling adequate in the first place (which I do! I know it!), all that is represented in this boy, the man you care the most about in all the world, and he’s right there in the house with you and you can’t get away from the derision you see sometimes in his eyes – well, what then? I’ll tell you what then. You backtrack. You try to tell yourself that you don’t care about that boy. You tell yourself that he’s defective and his opinions about you don’t matter. You build walls of anger around you and you strike out if they get too close. It’s safer that way. Much safer.
But sometimes, at unguarded moments, you remember the little, tousled-haired boy who would shout, “Daddy!” and run into your arms as you came home from work. Sometimes you remember the feel of his hand wrapped trustingly around one of your fingers as you walked to the store or the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around your neck as his mom tried to pry him off so you can go to work, “Don’t go, Daddy! Don’t go!” he wails. Sometimes you remember those moments and you ache and you wish there were no wall and you wish you could go on carnival rides together again. You wish, with your whole heart, that you could be friends.
But what if he doesn’t want to be friends with me? What if he doesn’t admire or like me anymore? That’s when the wall starts going back up. But today I try to consider it. Can I risk like that? Can I love like that? Can I love him even if he rejects me? Honestly, I don’t know if I am that strong. It is hard to see the little boy when the soon-to-be man is right in front of your face.
How do I build a relationship with the man? The image of the cars stuck on the roller coaster came again into my mind. If I wanted a relationship, I’d have to work on it. It wouldn’t just be handed to me. The message was clear.
I rolled over. I felt a little better. At least I had something to work on. At least I wasn’t faced with the hopelessness I usually felt when I thought about Tom. Maybe there was something I could do. Maybe if we did stuff together I would find things I liked about him – even if they weren’t the things I had tried to teach him to do. After all, he was my boy. Shouldn’t that be enough?
I pushed my doubts and fears away. I had something to work on. For now, that was enough. Maybe I would face my other fears another day. I searched for sleep that wouldn’t come.
**
I finally fell asleep a few hours later. I dreamed of roller coaster rides that dipped and spun and left me wanting more. I dreamt of slow tea cup rides where nobody got sick and everybody had a say. I dreamt of mirrors that showed things only as they really are and of boat rides with my family safely around me inside the boat and not floating separately through the dark water.
I gradually became aware of sunlight shining through my eyelids and I woke up – happy. It had been a long time since dreams had left me that way. I kept my eyes closed to enjoy the feeling a little bit longer. I knew I hadn’t gotten much sleep and that I would normally be grumpy. Today felt good, though, as though, dared I say it, it were sun-kissed.
That was when I smelled scones and honey-butter. My eyes flew open and I struggled up from our nest of blankets. “You got more scones?” I asked Sonya in disbelief.
She was smiling and she nodded. “Well, it’s better than hot dogs for breakfast don’t you think?”
“It definitely is!” I agreed. “But I thought that maybe after yesterday, it might not sound very good to you.” I tried to sound apologetic. I really did feel bad about that. How could I have made her so sick?
“I think I’ll be all right,” she said. “Besides, I know how much you like scones.”
She really did love me. I didn’t deserve her. I leaned over and kissed her. “I love you, Sonya. I’m sorry.”
She smiled at me and said, “I know.”
But did she know? I wasn’t even sure everything I meant to convey in that one I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you sick yesterday. I’m sorry I’m so hard to live with. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you over and over and over again. I looked at her miserably.
She laughed. “Come on, Sam! It’s not so bad. We’ll work it out, won’t we?” Then the smile disappeared from her face and she said pleadingly, “We will work on it, right Sam? We won’t let things go on as they have before? Say we won’t!”
I pulled her close to me. “We won’t,” I promised her and I thought of what I had learned in the house of mirrors and knew that I meant to keep all of my promises from now on. Fear grabbed at me none the less, “I’ll need your help, though, Sonya.”
“I think Ken was trying to tell me yesterday that it’s not right for me to try to rescue people – especially the people I love,” Sonya said thoughtfully. “But I’m going to start standing up for myself, Sam, and for our family, and I think that will help you. You won’t be able to forget, anyway.”
That would be an important first step. I patted my front shirt pocket, “I’ll keep my lists handy.”
Sonya laughed. “Good idea,” she said.
We woke up the kids and ate our scones hot.
Brittney sighed as she finished her last bite and licked her fingers clean. “I love the food here,” she said wistfully, “I sure am going to miss it.”
“Miss it?” I asked. “I thought you were the one who was so sure that we would be stuck here forever!”
“No,” Brittney said. She had an ease of changing her mind that only a ten-year-old could possess. “We’ll go in the haunted house today and then we’ll get out. I know it.”
I looked at Sonya. She smiled and shrugged, “I guess that’s settled then!” she said.
“I guess so,” I replied shaking my head. “Let’s clean up and get going then!”
We folded the blankets and tried to leave things how we had found them. We threw our paper plates and plastic forks away in a trash can not far away and we trooped off to find a bathroom so we could freshen up a little bit.
Then we met outside. “Well,” I asked everyone, “Brittney says this will be the last thing we do here, so is there anything else any of you want to do before we go in the Haunted House?”
“I’d like to do anything beside go in the Haunted House!” Brittney declared.
I smiled at her. Actually, I knew how she felt. I felt a sort of dread whenever I looked at the place, but I felt that she was right, too. I felt like going there was key to getting out of here. Sometimes there were things you didn’t want to do, but you just had to face them and get them done.
At work, I usually brought lunch in a paper bag and just threw everything away when I was done, but one day, I decided to bring a plate of leftovers from home. We had a microwave and a sink at work, so I heated it up and brought it back to my desk to finish my work. When I was done, I knew I should take it to the sink and get it cleaned up, but I was in the middle of a project and I just didn’t want to face the goo right then -- so I ignored it. It was still there the next day, looking worse and harder to wash, so I stuck it in a drawer thinking that it would be good to have it out of the way until I was ready to deal with it. Not so. I found it on accident several weeks later. There were things growing on it and the smell was absolutely horrible. I would have just thrown it away if Sonya hadn’t wanted it back as part of her matched set. Washing it was a bear, too. The food seemed to have turned to concrete. Some things in life are like that. Come to think of it, maybe all things in life are like that. If you don’t face them, they get worse.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Chapter 11
Chapter 11 – Sonya
When Brittney was still a baby, we needed to move to a house that would be closer to Sam’s work. Even though he changed jobs often, most of his jobs were in the city and we agreed that we should buy a house closer to the city. We walked through a lot of homes, but we were having a hard time finding the right fit for us. I really wanted one that was well-kept but still in our price range. As the search continued with no results, Sam got more and more frustrated.
About that time, a friend of Sam’s told him about a house that was for sale in his neighborhood and said we should come look at it and be his neighbors. Sam, of course, was thrilled. He’s always been like a puppy dog that way – show him a little affection and he wags his tail and follows you everywhere – until you make him mad, of course. So Sam wanted to buy the house to please his friend from the very get-go, before he even saw the house. He didn’t say so, but I could tell. You don’t spend eight years with someone and not figure out how to read their emotions – especially if their emotions could blow up in your face at anytime. I think that made me a very motivated learner.
I wanted to like the house, too, for Sam’s sake, but from the moment I saw the house, it just felt evil. The feeling only got worse when I got inside. I know that sounds weird. I am not usually very paranormal. In fact, it wasn’t ghosts that scared me about the house. It just felt dark there. It felt like bad things had happened and I didn’t want to be there because of it. The house was good for us in every other way, but I would not agree to buy it. Sam raged about the housing market and about me, but on this thing I would not budge. I would not move myself and my children into that house.
I was almost frantic to find another house that would work for us. I started going with the realtor while Sam was at work and Tommy was at school. I didn’t know how long Sam would stop talking to me this time. He could really be punishing about purchases I made, to the point that I would have to take them back to get back into his good graces. A house was so permanent, though. I didn’t know if he would punish me for the rest of our married lives over this one purchase. The alternative was moving into that dark, forbidding house, though and I just could not bring myself to do it.
I finally did find a house I liked. It had a little yard with a willow tree in back and the sun shone through the windows and filled the whole kitchen with light. I know you’ll think I’m crazy again, but I could feel love in that home and I wanted to stay and soak it up. Mercifully, Sam liked it, too. Not that he was overly enthusiastic about it. No, he couldn’t let me completely forget that I had messed up his plans for the other house. But he agreed to buy it and he started talking to me again. I was so relieved. I just knew the darkness in that other house would have crept into my head and darkened my whole life. I rejoiced quietly that we had escaped it.
Looking at the haunted house looming up in front of us, I was afraid that the darkness in this house would not be so successfully avoided. Regardless of what Sam or anyone else thought, I could tell that this was a big key in getting out of the carnival. We would have to go through sooner or later.
Sam was studying the house, too. I could tell that he didn’t much like the idea of braving this attraction either, which surprised me. Sam usually held haunted houses that you find at carnivals in the greatest disdain. “They can’t touch you. You know it’s all fake. What is so scary?” he had said once in making a speech on why they were so stupid. He must not have been so sure that this one was fake or that they wouldn’t be able to touch us for that matter. At this carnival, you could just about count on the rides not being what you’d expect. Plus, there was definitely a feeling outside this house of dark things that we didn’t want to face. Looking at my family, I was pretty sure that I wasn’t the only one feeling it this time, either.
Sam turned to me, “What do you think, Sonya?” I started. I was not used to Sam asking my opinion. He had done so a few times already today and each time he did it, I expected it to be his last. So each new time surprised me again. Could it really last that he would continue to take into consideration what I wanted to do?
I was at a restaurant once, waiting for the kids to get done in the bathroom, and my attention was drawn to another family not sitting too far from us who were just placing their orders with the waitress. The waitress had just gotten to the little boy’s order. The mom said, “He’ll have the soup.”
“I don’t want the soup!” the boy complained. “I want a hamburger!”
“A hamburger?” the waitress replied. “And what would you like with your hamburger – salad or French fries?”
“He’ll have the soup,” the mom repeated “and he’ll have a baked potato with it.”
The waitress though, continued to look at the boy and wait for his answer to her question. The little boy looked back at the waitress in wonder and said, “French fries.”
“A hamburger and French fries it is,” said the waitress. “I’ll have those orders out for you in just a few minutes.” Then she left the table.
The mom shook her head in disgust, but the boy was still wide-eyed with wonder. “Mom!” he finally said, pulling at her sleeve, “She thinks I’m REAL!”
I had laughed softly to myself, but a part of me had felt like crying – crying for a good long time. I knew exactly how he felt.
I tried to pull myself back together so I could answer Sam’s question. “I think it’s getting late. We’ve been walking around the carnival a long time trying to find a way out and it’s probably time for dinner. Maybe we should eat and spend another night here. Then, maybe we can face the haunted house in the morning.”
Everyone seemed to visibly relax. Tommy even smiled, “I like Mom’s idea. This house will be much easier to face in the morning.”
“Alright, then!” Sam said. “We’ll do that. First thing in the morning, though, we’ve got to face it. Are we agreed?”
“Agreed,” we all chorused.
“Great,” Sam said. “Now let’s go find something to eat. Please tell me we’re not back to hot dogs.”
In the end we agreed that if we had to have something again, we’d like to have the pizza. Brittney and Tom were thrilled. I didn’t mind either, actually. I’ve never lost the preference I had as a kid for pizza. I still think it’s one of life’s most fun foods.
“Come on, Dad!” Tom said. “Don’t you like pizza even a little bit?”
I looked up at Tommy with grateful eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to his dad voluntarily. This carnival was full of little miracles.
“You know, I used to like pizza a lot,” Sam mused.
“What happened?” Brittney asked, all of her attention on her dad.
Sam smiled. “I don’t know,” he admitted. Brittney dissolved into laughter. I found myself laughing along.
When Brittney was still a baby, we needed to move to a house that would be closer to Sam’s work. Even though he changed jobs often, most of his jobs were in the city and we agreed that we should buy a house closer to the city. We walked through a lot of homes, but we were having a hard time finding the right fit for us. I really wanted one that was well-kept but still in our price range. As the search continued with no results, Sam got more and more frustrated.
About that time, a friend of Sam’s told him about a house that was for sale in his neighborhood and said we should come look at it and be his neighbors. Sam, of course, was thrilled. He’s always been like a puppy dog that way – show him a little affection and he wags his tail and follows you everywhere – until you make him mad, of course. So Sam wanted to buy the house to please his friend from the very get-go, before he even saw the house. He didn’t say so, but I could tell. You don’t spend eight years with someone and not figure out how to read their emotions – especially if their emotions could blow up in your face at anytime. I think that made me a very motivated learner.
I wanted to like the house, too, for Sam’s sake, but from the moment I saw the house, it just felt evil. The feeling only got worse when I got inside. I know that sounds weird. I am not usually very paranormal. In fact, it wasn’t ghosts that scared me about the house. It just felt dark there. It felt like bad things had happened and I didn’t want to be there because of it. The house was good for us in every other way, but I would not agree to buy it. Sam raged about the housing market and about me, but on this thing I would not budge. I would not move myself and my children into that house.
I was almost frantic to find another house that would work for us. I started going with the realtor while Sam was at work and Tommy was at school. I didn’t know how long Sam would stop talking to me this time. He could really be punishing about purchases I made, to the point that I would have to take them back to get back into his good graces. A house was so permanent, though. I didn’t know if he would punish me for the rest of our married lives over this one purchase. The alternative was moving into that dark, forbidding house, though and I just could not bring myself to do it.
I finally did find a house I liked. It had a little yard with a willow tree in back and the sun shone through the windows and filled the whole kitchen with light. I know you’ll think I’m crazy again, but I could feel love in that home and I wanted to stay and soak it up. Mercifully, Sam liked it, too. Not that he was overly enthusiastic about it. No, he couldn’t let me completely forget that I had messed up his plans for the other house. But he agreed to buy it and he started talking to me again. I was so relieved. I just knew the darkness in that other house would have crept into my head and darkened my whole life. I rejoiced quietly that we had escaped it.
Looking at the haunted house looming up in front of us, I was afraid that the darkness in this house would not be so successfully avoided. Regardless of what Sam or anyone else thought, I could tell that this was a big key in getting out of the carnival. We would have to go through sooner or later.
Sam was studying the house, too. I could tell that he didn’t much like the idea of braving this attraction either, which surprised me. Sam usually held haunted houses that you find at carnivals in the greatest disdain. “They can’t touch you. You know it’s all fake. What is so scary?” he had said once in making a speech on why they were so stupid. He must not have been so sure that this one was fake or that they wouldn’t be able to touch us for that matter. At this carnival, you could just about count on the rides not being what you’d expect. Plus, there was definitely a feeling outside this house of dark things that we didn’t want to face. Looking at my family, I was pretty sure that I wasn’t the only one feeling it this time, either.
Sam turned to me, “What do you think, Sonya?” I started. I was not used to Sam asking my opinion. He had done so a few times already today and each time he did it, I expected it to be his last. So each new time surprised me again. Could it really last that he would continue to take into consideration what I wanted to do?
I was at a restaurant once, waiting for the kids to get done in the bathroom, and my attention was drawn to another family not sitting too far from us who were just placing their orders with the waitress. The waitress had just gotten to the little boy’s order. The mom said, “He’ll have the soup.”
“I don’t want the soup!” the boy complained. “I want a hamburger!”
“A hamburger?” the waitress replied. “And what would you like with your hamburger – salad or French fries?”
“He’ll have the soup,” the mom repeated “and he’ll have a baked potato with it.”
The waitress though, continued to look at the boy and wait for his answer to her question. The little boy looked back at the waitress in wonder and said, “French fries.”
“A hamburger and French fries it is,” said the waitress. “I’ll have those orders out for you in just a few minutes.” Then she left the table.
The mom shook her head in disgust, but the boy was still wide-eyed with wonder. “Mom!” he finally said, pulling at her sleeve, “She thinks I’m REAL!”
I had laughed softly to myself, but a part of me had felt like crying – crying for a good long time. I knew exactly how he felt.
I tried to pull myself back together so I could answer Sam’s question. “I think it’s getting late. We’ve been walking around the carnival a long time trying to find a way out and it’s probably time for dinner. Maybe we should eat and spend another night here. Then, maybe we can face the haunted house in the morning.”
Everyone seemed to visibly relax. Tommy even smiled, “I like Mom’s idea. This house will be much easier to face in the morning.”
“Alright, then!” Sam said. “We’ll do that. First thing in the morning, though, we’ve got to face it. Are we agreed?”
“Agreed,” we all chorused.
“Great,” Sam said. “Now let’s go find something to eat. Please tell me we’re not back to hot dogs.”
In the end we agreed that if we had to have something again, we’d like to have the pizza. Brittney and Tom were thrilled. I didn’t mind either, actually. I’ve never lost the preference I had as a kid for pizza. I still think it’s one of life’s most fun foods.
“Come on, Dad!” Tom said. “Don’t you like pizza even a little bit?”
I looked up at Tommy with grateful eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to his dad voluntarily. This carnival was full of little miracles.
“You know, I used to like pizza a lot,” Sam mused.
“What happened?” Brittney asked, all of her attention on her dad.
Sam smiled. “I don’t know,” he admitted. Brittney dissolved into laughter. I found myself laughing along.
Chapter 10 - Part 2
So we threw our trash away and started walking through the carnival once again. The first thing we passed were the bumper cars. I remembered how knocked around we had been in there. Ken had said that life was like that unless we lived by certain rules or principles. I wondered if we had learned all of them, yet. He seemed to teach us a new one every time we went on a ride. There couldn’t be that many, though, or we’d never remember them all. I decided that I’d review as we went past the rides again.
We went past the prize booths and then over toward the House of Mirrors. It’s glittery sign still professed, “Commitment to Integrity: the House of Mirrors.” I was pretty sure that the prize booths weren’t supposed to teach us anything since they didn’t have a sign like that. As we came closer to the House of Mirrors, I saw a sign that I hadn’t seen before. It stood next to the ride in the same place that signs usually say, “You must be this tall to go on this ride.” It didn’t say that, though. It said lots of stuff.
“Hey guys!” I called out. “Come see this sign!”
Dad read it aloud:
Freedom Principle One:
COMMITMENT TO INTERITY:
[Principle is Never Compromised, Regardless of the Cost.]
1. I am totally honest, recognizing that “a lie is any communication given with the intent to deceive.”
2. Unless I am released from commitments, I must keep them.
3. I search for truth and align with it.
4. I take responsibility willingly for any problems I cause, and to the extent possible make them right.
“Wow! That’s really cool!” I said. I loved it. It made things sound so clear. I hoped I could remember them all. That’s when I noticed a small holder attached to the sign. It held handouts.
“Look Dad!” I cried. “Can I take one and keep it? Can I? Would that be okay?”
Dad picked up one of the handouts and looked at it carefully. “Yeah, Brittney, I think you can keep one. In fact, I think that’s the idea.” He then put the paper he had been looking at in his front shirt pocket. I was glad for that. Once I had written him a note that said, “I love you, Dad!” He had put it in the same place. I knew it would be safe there.
I grabbed one of the papers. I wished I had a front shirt pocket. I didn’t, though. I would have to just hold it in my hand.
We tried to walk around the house of mirrors to get to the back of the carnival, but there didn’t seem to be a way around. Instead we got to the Tunnel of Love. It had a smaller sign next to its entrance as well. We all went over to read it together.
Freedom Principle Two:
COMMITMENT TO AFFIRM WORTH & TO SHOW GENUINE COMPASSION
[Value is Sent, Even in the Face of Inappropriate Behavior.]
1. All persons, including self, are of infinite worth.
2. Behavior, for the most part, is learned.
3. Misbehavior is almost always the symptom of some other problem.
4. Behavior is almost invariably belief-linked.
We tried to get around the Tunnel of Love, too, but you couldn’t get behind it. That must not be the way out.
“Are we going to try to go on the ride, again?” Mom asked. She asked I think because Dad was standing looking at the place Ken had stood when we had first come out of the river. I think he was remembering what he had said.
Dad looked around at her. “No,” he said. “I don’t think we’ll go on the ride now. Let’s keep looking around. Maybe we will come back, though.”
We kept on walking. The prize booths were still in front of us, but now we came to the craft booths. We walked on and on through the maze of craft booths. They seemed to never end.
“I don’t think we’re getting anywhere!” Mom finally said.
“It feels like we’re going in circles,” Tom agreed.
“I told you we wouldn’t be able to get out,” I said.
Dad scowled at me. “Come on, then. Let’s at least try to get out from the craft booths.”
That turned out to be easier than we thought. We had wandered around in there for at least an hour, but when we wanted to get back, it seemed like we were almost immediately back at the Tea Cups ride. I looked over at Mom. She looked a little green just from being close to the ride again.
It had a little sign, too, though. We read that one, too.
Freedom Principle Four:
COMMITMENT TO AGENCY:
[Agency is the Key to Becoming a Self-Governing, Course-Correcting Individual]
1. There are fundamental or transcendent truths and laws, constant in nature, which can be obeyed or disobeyed. All other laws, rules, policies, etc., which are put in place, should be in harmony with these truths and laws [principle-based]. Man is not totally free [is not a moral agent] unless he is taught them.
2. There are inherent consequences, positive and negative, affixed to those fundamental truths and laws. These consequences, and those attached to other laws, rules or policies, need to be taught clearly and understood.
3. There is opposition in all things. Preparation to meet that opposition should be made beforehand.
4. Man must have unfettered choice.
“That’s weird,” Dad said. “We seemed to have done principle four before principle three.”
“Let’s go see if the roller coaster is principle three,” Tommy said.
“I thought we were looking for a way out!” I reminded them as I collected my third little paper.
“We are,” Dad said. “But maybe the way out is over by the roller coaster.”
He didn’t fool me, though. I knew that Dad was interested in these little signs and he wanted to read all of them. He’d get back to finding a way out -- later. Right now, these ideas were more interesting to him than finding our broken-down car. That was the long and short of it and really, who could blame him?
We passed by the other side of the prize booths and passed the bumper cars again. Then the roller coaster loomed ahead of us again.
Tom shook his head, “I really wish that coaster worked. It looks like so much fun.”
We found the sign next to the roller coaster entrance:
Freedom Principle Three:
COMMITMENT TO GROWTH:
[Transferring of Responsibility from a Temporary Steward to a Rightful Steward]
1. A temporary steward has the responsibility to place protective barriers, to teach and train, and to require accountability.
2. Man’s basic drive is to be free to make his own decisions.
3. Everyone has the seeds to the solutions to his own problems within himself.
4. Self-esteem rises in direct proportion to the amount of responsibility a person takes for his own actions. It is also impacted by how much responsibility he takes for what he believes and thinks, and for what he emotionally and verbally communicates to others.
5. A skillful steward sustains those under him by modeling proper leadership qualities, providing needed material resource, giving strong emotional support, and where appropriate, giving of his own time willingly.
Dad was holding his paper – the fourth he had collected, too – just like me. “It’s interesting,” he said almost to himself. “There’s more to these principles than I understood the first time around. There’s a lot to them. Maybe more than a person can understand all at once.”
“I think so, too,” Mom agreed. “But, any new thing takes time to learn. Doesn’t it, Britt?” Mom asked putting her arm around me and giving me a squeeze. I knew she’d help me learn new things when we got back home. The thought was exciting. I really think I could do anything with my mom behind me.
“Well,” Dad said looking up and around at each of us, “Did we see all the rides?”
“I don’t think so,” Tommy said. “I thought I saw a haunted house behind the Tea Cups ride.”
“Oh yeah!” I said. “I saw that the first day we were here!” Was that really just yesterday? It seemed like forever ago. I shivered, though. I hoped that wasn’t one of the attractions we had to go on. I didn’t like haunted houses.
I frowned and looked pleadingly at Mom. I hoped she could see in my eyes how much I didn’t want to go and she would get me out of it. She returned my look sympathetically, but she said, “Let’s go at least have a look at it and see what it is all about.”
“First things first,” Dad said. “Let’s see if we can get out past the roller coaster.”
There was a high fence all around the bottom of the roller coaster. I imagined it was to keep people from getting hurt by things falling off the ride or getting hurt by the ride itself. We couldn’t get around the fence, of course, (I knew we wouldn’t be able to get out) and beyond it was just the indistinct greyness that seemed to engulf the carnival like a bubble.
Dad finally sighed and said, “Let’s look around the bumper cars. That’s where everything seems to start. Maybe there’s an entrance there and an exit, too.”
That made good sense. We walked all the way around it. What we found behind it, though, wasn’t an entrance or exit. It was the Haunted House. Above the door it read, “Commitment to Trust My Instincts: The Haunted House.”
I groaned. There was a sign above the door. That meant it was one of the rides we had to go on. If there hadn’t been a sign, I might have been able to talk everybody out of it. Now, I doubted I would have that chance. To my surprise, though, everyone seemed to be holding back. It didn’t look like anyone very much wanted to go inside.
“Hey look, Dad!” I called, “There’s a smaller sign next to this entrance, too!” We read this final one together:
Freedom Principle Five:
COMMITMENT TO TRUST MY INSTINCTS & MY INTUITIVE RESPONSES:
[Recognizing and Responding to the Intimations of the Heart.]
1. We are spirit beings first, with an innate capacity to sense and feel, to detect and discern emotions fom any source.
2. Emotions are neither good nor bad. They are natural alarms which provide keys to accessing and understanding what has happened to us, or is currently happening within us. They also alert us regarding any external encroachments by others.
3. One who sharpens his skills in discerning, in focusing on, and in responding to the intimations of the heart, opens the doorway to profound learning experiences.
“Sounds like an interesting one,” Mom said. “It sure doesn’t seem to match the ride.”
We all looked up at the haunted house. The front of it was completely black. It was shaped like an old Victorian home with a large front door and windows and a balcony above that where another door opened and seemed to imply the presence of ghosts inside. Cobwebs hung from the balcony and from the tops of the doors and windows.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s even been in there for a long time,” Tommy said.
“Oh, people go in,” chimed in a voice from behind us. We all jumped. We were used to being alone by now, with the possible exception of Ken every now and then. It was freaky to find another person suddenly behind us. He was missing his hair and most of his teeth and looked ancient, I thought. He was creepy. I thought he matched the house. I slunk closer to my mom.
“People do go in,” he repeated, “But sometimes they don’t come out!” then he cackled this even creepier high-pitched laugh. Then he came really close to my face, even though I was trying very hard to disappear behind mom’s legs, and he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “Sometimes you can hear them screaming!”
He cackled again and walked off. I stayed behind mom’s legs, though and looked at that haunted house again. I didn’t know if we’d ever come out of there if we went in. I didn’t know if I’d be the one screaming. What I did know was that I did not want to go in there.
We went past the prize booths and then over toward the House of Mirrors. It’s glittery sign still professed, “Commitment to Integrity: the House of Mirrors.” I was pretty sure that the prize booths weren’t supposed to teach us anything since they didn’t have a sign like that. As we came closer to the House of Mirrors, I saw a sign that I hadn’t seen before. It stood next to the ride in the same place that signs usually say, “You must be this tall to go on this ride.” It didn’t say that, though. It said lots of stuff.
“Hey guys!” I called out. “Come see this sign!”
Dad read it aloud:
Freedom Principle One:
COMMITMENT TO INTERITY:
[Principle is Never Compromised, Regardless of the Cost.]
1. I am totally honest, recognizing that “a lie is any communication given with the intent to deceive.”
2. Unless I am released from commitments, I must keep them.
3. I search for truth and align with it.
4. I take responsibility willingly for any problems I cause, and to the extent possible make them right.
“Wow! That’s really cool!” I said. I loved it. It made things sound so clear. I hoped I could remember them all. That’s when I noticed a small holder attached to the sign. It held handouts.
“Look Dad!” I cried. “Can I take one and keep it? Can I? Would that be okay?”
Dad picked up one of the handouts and looked at it carefully. “Yeah, Brittney, I think you can keep one. In fact, I think that’s the idea.” He then put the paper he had been looking at in his front shirt pocket. I was glad for that. Once I had written him a note that said, “I love you, Dad!” He had put it in the same place. I knew it would be safe there.
I grabbed one of the papers. I wished I had a front shirt pocket. I didn’t, though. I would have to just hold it in my hand.
We tried to walk around the house of mirrors to get to the back of the carnival, but there didn’t seem to be a way around. Instead we got to the Tunnel of Love. It had a smaller sign next to its entrance as well. We all went over to read it together.
Freedom Principle Two:
COMMITMENT TO AFFIRM WORTH & TO SHOW GENUINE COMPASSION
[Value is Sent, Even in the Face of Inappropriate Behavior.]
1. All persons, including self, are of infinite worth.
2. Behavior, for the most part, is learned.
3. Misbehavior is almost always the symptom of some other problem.
4. Behavior is almost invariably belief-linked.
We tried to get around the Tunnel of Love, too, but you couldn’t get behind it. That must not be the way out.
“Are we going to try to go on the ride, again?” Mom asked. She asked I think because Dad was standing looking at the place Ken had stood when we had first come out of the river. I think he was remembering what he had said.
Dad looked around at her. “No,” he said. “I don’t think we’ll go on the ride now. Let’s keep looking around. Maybe we will come back, though.”
We kept on walking. The prize booths were still in front of us, but now we came to the craft booths. We walked on and on through the maze of craft booths. They seemed to never end.
“I don’t think we’re getting anywhere!” Mom finally said.
“It feels like we’re going in circles,” Tom agreed.
“I told you we wouldn’t be able to get out,” I said.
Dad scowled at me. “Come on, then. Let’s at least try to get out from the craft booths.”
That turned out to be easier than we thought. We had wandered around in there for at least an hour, but when we wanted to get back, it seemed like we were almost immediately back at the Tea Cups ride. I looked over at Mom. She looked a little green just from being close to the ride again.
It had a little sign, too, though. We read that one, too.
Freedom Principle Four:
COMMITMENT TO AGENCY:
[Agency is the Key to Becoming a Self-Governing, Course-Correcting Individual]
1. There are fundamental or transcendent truths and laws, constant in nature, which can be obeyed or disobeyed. All other laws, rules, policies, etc., which are put in place, should be in harmony with these truths and laws [principle-based]. Man is not totally free [is not a moral agent] unless he is taught them.
2. There are inherent consequences, positive and negative, affixed to those fundamental truths and laws. These consequences, and those attached to other laws, rules or policies, need to be taught clearly and understood.
3. There is opposition in all things. Preparation to meet that opposition should be made beforehand.
4. Man must have unfettered choice.
“That’s weird,” Dad said. “We seemed to have done principle four before principle three.”
“Let’s go see if the roller coaster is principle three,” Tommy said.
“I thought we were looking for a way out!” I reminded them as I collected my third little paper.
“We are,” Dad said. “But maybe the way out is over by the roller coaster.”
He didn’t fool me, though. I knew that Dad was interested in these little signs and he wanted to read all of them. He’d get back to finding a way out -- later. Right now, these ideas were more interesting to him than finding our broken-down car. That was the long and short of it and really, who could blame him?
We passed by the other side of the prize booths and passed the bumper cars again. Then the roller coaster loomed ahead of us again.
Tom shook his head, “I really wish that coaster worked. It looks like so much fun.”
We found the sign next to the roller coaster entrance:
Freedom Principle Three:
COMMITMENT TO GROWTH:
[Transferring of Responsibility from a Temporary Steward to a Rightful Steward]
1. A temporary steward has the responsibility to place protective barriers, to teach and train, and to require accountability.
2. Man’s basic drive is to be free to make his own decisions.
3. Everyone has the seeds to the solutions to his own problems within himself.
4. Self-esteem rises in direct proportion to the amount of responsibility a person takes for his own actions. It is also impacted by how much responsibility he takes for what he believes and thinks, and for what he emotionally and verbally communicates to others.
5. A skillful steward sustains those under him by modeling proper leadership qualities, providing needed material resource, giving strong emotional support, and where appropriate, giving of his own time willingly.
Dad was holding his paper – the fourth he had collected, too – just like me. “It’s interesting,” he said almost to himself. “There’s more to these principles than I understood the first time around. There’s a lot to them. Maybe more than a person can understand all at once.”
“I think so, too,” Mom agreed. “But, any new thing takes time to learn. Doesn’t it, Britt?” Mom asked putting her arm around me and giving me a squeeze. I knew she’d help me learn new things when we got back home. The thought was exciting. I really think I could do anything with my mom behind me.
“Well,” Dad said looking up and around at each of us, “Did we see all the rides?”
“I don’t think so,” Tommy said. “I thought I saw a haunted house behind the Tea Cups ride.”
“Oh yeah!” I said. “I saw that the first day we were here!” Was that really just yesterday? It seemed like forever ago. I shivered, though. I hoped that wasn’t one of the attractions we had to go on. I didn’t like haunted houses.
I frowned and looked pleadingly at Mom. I hoped she could see in my eyes how much I didn’t want to go and she would get me out of it. She returned my look sympathetically, but she said, “Let’s go at least have a look at it and see what it is all about.”
“First things first,” Dad said. “Let’s see if we can get out past the roller coaster.”
There was a high fence all around the bottom of the roller coaster. I imagined it was to keep people from getting hurt by things falling off the ride or getting hurt by the ride itself. We couldn’t get around the fence, of course, (I knew we wouldn’t be able to get out) and beyond it was just the indistinct greyness that seemed to engulf the carnival like a bubble.
Dad finally sighed and said, “Let’s look around the bumper cars. That’s where everything seems to start. Maybe there’s an entrance there and an exit, too.”
That made good sense. We walked all the way around it. What we found behind it, though, wasn’t an entrance or exit. It was the Haunted House. Above the door it read, “Commitment to Trust My Instincts: The Haunted House.”
I groaned. There was a sign above the door. That meant it was one of the rides we had to go on. If there hadn’t been a sign, I might have been able to talk everybody out of it. Now, I doubted I would have that chance. To my surprise, though, everyone seemed to be holding back. It didn’t look like anyone very much wanted to go inside.
“Hey look, Dad!” I called, “There’s a smaller sign next to this entrance, too!” We read this final one together:
Freedom Principle Five:
COMMITMENT TO TRUST MY INSTINCTS & MY INTUITIVE RESPONSES:
[Recognizing and Responding to the Intimations of the Heart.]
1. We are spirit beings first, with an innate capacity to sense and feel, to detect and discern emotions fom any source.
2. Emotions are neither good nor bad. They are natural alarms which provide keys to accessing and understanding what has happened to us, or is currently happening within us. They also alert us regarding any external encroachments by others.
3. One who sharpens his skills in discerning, in focusing on, and in responding to the intimations of the heart, opens the doorway to profound learning experiences.
“Sounds like an interesting one,” Mom said. “It sure doesn’t seem to match the ride.”
We all looked up at the haunted house. The front of it was completely black. It was shaped like an old Victorian home with a large front door and windows and a balcony above that where another door opened and seemed to imply the presence of ghosts inside. Cobwebs hung from the balcony and from the tops of the doors and windows.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s even been in there for a long time,” Tommy said.
“Oh, people go in,” chimed in a voice from behind us. We all jumped. We were used to being alone by now, with the possible exception of Ken every now and then. It was freaky to find another person suddenly behind us. He was missing his hair and most of his teeth and looked ancient, I thought. He was creepy. I thought he matched the house. I slunk closer to my mom.
“People do go in,” he repeated, “But sometimes they don’t come out!” then he cackled this even creepier high-pitched laugh. Then he came really close to my face, even though I was trying very hard to disappear behind mom’s legs, and he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “Sometimes you can hear them screaming!”
He cackled again and walked off. I stayed behind mom’s legs, though and looked at that haunted house again. I didn’t know if we’d ever come out of there if we went in. I didn’t know if I’d be the one screaming. What I did know was that I did not want to go in there.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Chapter 10 - Part 1
Chapter 10 – Brittney
I felt my stomach growl. All this talking was making me hungry. I hoped they’d finish up soon. I really wanted that Runza that dad had promised me. I loved Runzas. They were shaped kind of like a burrito, but they weren’t wrapped in a tortilla. They were wrapped in fried dough. Inside was ground beef and cabbage. I know. It sounds gross, huh? They’re really good, though.
My dad used to help out at the state park on reclamation projects and things on Saturday mornings. Dad told me that reclamation means nature reclaims the land and it goes back to being beautiful and making you happy – like how it should be before people messed it up. I used to go with him sometimes. On the way back one day, he asked me, “Would you like to go get a Runza?”
“What’s a Runza?” I had demanded.
He laughed which made me smile. I loved it when Dad laughed. I wished that he would do it more. I heard once that children laugh an average of 400 times a day and adults only laugh an average of seven. What I want to know is, where did the other 393 times go? This fact actually made me quite worried. I know that I am growing up. I wondered if I was maybe already losing some of my laughing-ness. I tried to count one day and I only got to 59. I wondered, though, do you count each thing you laughed about only once? What if every time you remembered the face your friend made at you at school, it made you laugh? Does that all count as one time or is it eleven or however many times you laughed about it? On the other hand, what if you only laughed once about it, but you laughed about it for five minutes? Does that only count as one or is that five or since the shortest laugh you could count would probably be five seconds, is it 60? It all ended up making my head hurt so I gave up. I think I probably laughed more the next day when I wasn’t trying so hard. I hope somewhere they counted, though. I would hope that all that happiness doesn’t just get lost.
My dad’s happiness got lost quite a lot, so like I said, it was good to hear him laugh that day. He said, “Have you never had a Runza?”
“What IS IT?” I demanded again. After all, how would I know if I had ever had a Runza if I didn’t know what it was?
“I will take you and show you,” Dad said and he wouldn’t tell me anymore about it – which is really probably a good thing because if he had told me there was cabbage in it I would have made him take me to McDonald’s or anywhere else, really. Funny how we live our life with the belief that if we try something it will poison us and then we finally try it and it ends up surprising us instead.
Dad didn’t have to do much cajoling at the restaurant. Runza’s do look good (since the cabbage and everything is hidden inside) and they smell good, too – and I was hungry. I took my first big bite of that Runza and I was hooked. Dad was so pleased that he laughed some more. I think he might have beat the adult average that day – which, come on, at seven a day is really not that hard to do.
So, Runzas became something special between Dad and I. Whenever we were out, he’d take me for one. I loved Runzas because they were good, but also because there was some of Dad’s laughter in every bite.
Ken finally left or rather disappeared or whatever it was he did. He was gone anyway. Dad had gone over to mom and had his arm around her. He was talking to her softly. Rats. More delays. I didn’t want to interrupt, though. I wanted Dad to be like that with Mom.
When I was up on that roller coaster and the lap bars came off and I looked down and I suddenly knew that there was nothing between me and the ground some hundred feet away – I was scared. I don’t like feeling like it would be so easy to fall and be hurt in unimaginable ways. That’s how I feel, though, when Dad is mad at Mom. It’s the same feeling. Seeing Dad with Mom now was nice, though. The lap bars were back down. Everything was safe.
I wandered over to where Tommy was staring at Mom and Dad. “Hey,” he said when he saw me.
“Hey,” I said back to him. Tommy hadn’t talked to me voluntarily for a long time. He had changed, I could tell, and it was nice.
“Have you seen any carts selling Runzas at this carnival?” I asked him. When I am hungry, it is really hard for me to think of anything else.
Tom smiled big when I said that. It wasn’t a laugh, but I’d take it. “Runzas, huh, Squirt?” I didn’t mind when he called me squirt. That’s what he used to call me when he used to talk to me. It was good. Tom liked Runzas, too. After Dad took me to get a Runza that one time, he took our whole family sometimes, too. We all liked them.
“Hey! Did someone say Runzas?” Dad called from where he was standing with Mom and they both started walking over with their arms around each other. I felt so happy to see them that way together, I thought my heart would just burst out of my chest. I was right. Runzas were happy food.
We walked back into the thick of the carnival and almost immediately found a Runza cart. I whopped for joy!
“I don’t remember seeing this before,” I heard Tommy say to Dad.
“Me neither, Tom, but whatever we need, this carnival seems to deliver.”
We got our Runzas. Dad left money. We all sat down, but instead of just eating all quiet and in our own little worlds like the model of the solar system my teacher had hanging in our class – little balls circling around each other but never talking – Dad cleared his throat and tried to talk. He asked Tom some questions about his friends and what they’d been doing lately. He asked me how math was going. It was just what grown-ups call “small-talk”, I guess, but it was nice. It felt like we were together – which we were, of course, but it didn’t always feel like it.
When we were done, we still sat talking. Dad got up for a minute, though, to get something back at the cart. When he came back, he was carrying cotton candy – pink. “It seems I promised you this, too. Isn’t that right Brittney?”
“Yipee!” I yelled. Right then I couldn’t think why I hadn’t trusted him to get me down the roller coaster. He was the best dad in the world!
“So,” Dad said looking around at everybody, “Any ideas about what we should do now?”
“This is our second day here,” Mom said. “Don’t you think its time we headed out?”
“I thought we couldn’t get out!” I volunteered in between mouthfuls of cotton candy.
“I don’t know how it could be possible that we can’t get out,” Dad said. “I know we looked around yesterday, but we didn’t really try very hard or for very long. I also don’t think any of us were thinking as clearly as we are today.”
Tom spoke up. “I think I saw the exit yesterday.”
“You did? Where?” Dad looked excited.
Tom didn’t look so excited to tell Dad. “I think I saw it in the Tunnel of Love. I think it’s that tunnel that went the other way.”
I stopped eating. That was the tunnel where he nearly drowned. I hoped we weren’t going back in there!
Mom saw the skeptical look on Dad’s face and jumped in, “We could try it. After all, I’m sure it’s a much more pleasant attraction when you are in a boat and not in the water.”
That made me laugh.
“I don’t know, though,” said Tom. “Most of the boats did go through the main tunnel. I don’t know what was special about that one boat that made it so it went down the side tunnel.”
“Well, we’ll keep that idea in mind.” Dad paused a minute, “You do have good ideas Tom.” It was hard for him to say and it made him uncomfortable I could tell. I didn’t have to look at Tom to know that he appreciated it. I hoped Dad could manage to do it some more – all the time!
“I think we should walk to the edge of the carnival and then walk around it until we find a door,” Dad said. “Maybe we should even split up and find a place to meet.”
Mom and Tommy were nodding their agreement, but I didn’t like that idea at all. “No!” I practically shouted.
They all looked at me in surprise. “Haven’t you noticed that the things in this carnival keep changing? If we split up, we may never find each other again. Like, the place we agreed to meet at could just -- disappear! Or worse! The carnival could split in half and we’d be separated forever! We can’t split up! We can’t! We can’t!”
“Whoa! Calm down, Little Miss,” Dad said. “It’s alright. We won’t split up. We’ll stay together, but I have a hard time believing it’s as hard as all that!”
I felt my stomach growl. All this talking was making me hungry. I hoped they’d finish up soon. I really wanted that Runza that dad had promised me. I loved Runzas. They were shaped kind of like a burrito, but they weren’t wrapped in a tortilla. They were wrapped in fried dough. Inside was ground beef and cabbage. I know. It sounds gross, huh? They’re really good, though.
My dad used to help out at the state park on reclamation projects and things on Saturday mornings. Dad told me that reclamation means nature reclaims the land and it goes back to being beautiful and making you happy – like how it should be before people messed it up. I used to go with him sometimes. On the way back one day, he asked me, “Would you like to go get a Runza?”
“What’s a Runza?” I had demanded.
He laughed which made me smile. I loved it when Dad laughed. I wished that he would do it more. I heard once that children laugh an average of 400 times a day and adults only laugh an average of seven. What I want to know is, where did the other 393 times go? This fact actually made me quite worried. I know that I am growing up. I wondered if I was maybe already losing some of my laughing-ness. I tried to count one day and I only got to 59. I wondered, though, do you count each thing you laughed about only once? What if every time you remembered the face your friend made at you at school, it made you laugh? Does that all count as one time or is it eleven or however many times you laughed about it? On the other hand, what if you only laughed once about it, but you laughed about it for five minutes? Does that only count as one or is that five or since the shortest laugh you could count would probably be five seconds, is it 60? It all ended up making my head hurt so I gave up. I think I probably laughed more the next day when I wasn’t trying so hard. I hope somewhere they counted, though. I would hope that all that happiness doesn’t just get lost.
My dad’s happiness got lost quite a lot, so like I said, it was good to hear him laugh that day. He said, “Have you never had a Runza?”
“What IS IT?” I demanded again. After all, how would I know if I had ever had a Runza if I didn’t know what it was?
“I will take you and show you,” Dad said and he wouldn’t tell me anymore about it – which is really probably a good thing because if he had told me there was cabbage in it I would have made him take me to McDonald’s or anywhere else, really. Funny how we live our life with the belief that if we try something it will poison us and then we finally try it and it ends up surprising us instead.
Dad didn’t have to do much cajoling at the restaurant. Runza’s do look good (since the cabbage and everything is hidden inside) and they smell good, too – and I was hungry. I took my first big bite of that Runza and I was hooked. Dad was so pleased that he laughed some more. I think he might have beat the adult average that day – which, come on, at seven a day is really not that hard to do.
So, Runzas became something special between Dad and I. Whenever we were out, he’d take me for one. I loved Runzas because they were good, but also because there was some of Dad’s laughter in every bite.
Ken finally left or rather disappeared or whatever it was he did. He was gone anyway. Dad had gone over to mom and had his arm around her. He was talking to her softly. Rats. More delays. I didn’t want to interrupt, though. I wanted Dad to be like that with Mom.
When I was up on that roller coaster and the lap bars came off and I looked down and I suddenly knew that there was nothing between me and the ground some hundred feet away – I was scared. I don’t like feeling like it would be so easy to fall and be hurt in unimaginable ways. That’s how I feel, though, when Dad is mad at Mom. It’s the same feeling. Seeing Dad with Mom now was nice, though. The lap bars were back down. Everything was safe.
I wandered over to where Tommy was staring at Mom and Dad. “Hey,” he said when he saw me.
“Hey,” I said back to him. Tommy hadn’t talked to me voluntarily for a long time. He had changed, I could tell, and it was nice.
“Have you seen any carts selling Runzas at this carnival?” I asked him. When I am hungry, it is really hard for me to think of anything else.
Tom smiled big when I said that. It wasn’t a laugh, but I’d take it. “Runzas, huh, Squirt?” I didn’t mind when he called me squirt. That’s what he used to call me when he used to talk to me. It was good. Tom liked Runzas, too. After Dad took me to get a Runza that one time, he took our whole family sometimes, too. We all liked them.
“Hey! Did someone say Runzas?” Dad called from where he was standing with Mom and they both started walking over with their arms around each other. I felt so happy to see them that way together, I thought my heart would just burst out of my chest. I was right. Runzas were happy food.
We walked back into the thick of the carnival and almost immediately found a Runza cart. I whopped for joy!
“I don’t remember seeing this before,” I heard Tommy say to Dad.
“Me neither, Tom, but whatever we need, this carnival seems to deliver.”
We got our Runzas. Dad left money. We all sat down, but instead of just eating all quiet and in our own little worlds like the model of the solar system my teacher had hanging in our class – little balls circling around each other but never talking – Dad cleared his throat and tried to talk. He asked Tom some questions about his friends and what they’d been doing lately. He asked me how math was going. It was just what grown-ups call “small-talk”, I guess, but it was nice. It felt like we were together – which we were, of course, but it didn’t always feel like it.
When we were done, we still sat talking. Dad got up for a minute, though, to get something back at the cart. When he came back, he was carrying cotton candy – pink. “It seems I promised you this, too. Isn’t that right Brittney?”
“Yipee!” I yelled. Right then I couldn’t think why I hadn’t trusted him to get me down the roller coaster. He was the best dad in the world!
“So,” Dad said looking around at everybody, “Any ideas about what we should do now?”
“This is our second day here,” Mom said. “Don’t you think its time we headed out?”
“I thought we couldn’t get out!” I volunteered in between mouthfuls of cotton candy.
“I don’t know how it could be possible that we can’t get out,” Dad said. “I know we looked around yesterday, but we didn’t really try very hard or for very long. I also don’t think any of us were thinking as clearly as we are today.”
Tom spoke up. “I think I saw the exit yesterday.”
“You did? Where?” Dad looked excited.
Tom didn’t look so excited to tell Dad. “I think I saw it in the Tunnel of Love. I think it’s that tunnel that went the other way.”
I stopped eating. That was the tunnel where he nearly drowned. I hoped we weren’t going back in there!
Mom saw the skeptical look on Dad’s face and jumped in, “We could try it. After all, I’m sure it’s a much more pleasant attraction when you are in a boat and not in the water.”
That made me laugh.
“I don’t know, though,” said Tom. “Most of the boats did go through the main tunnel. I don’t know what was special about that one boat that made it so it went down the side tunnel.”
“Well, we’ll keep that idea in mind.” Dad paused a minute, “You do have good ideas Tom.” It was hard for him to say and it made him uncomfortable I could tell. I didn’t have to look at Tom to know that he appreciated it. I hoped Dad could manage to do it some more – all the time!
“I think we should walk to the edge of the carnival and then walk around it until we find a door,” Dad said. “Maybe we should even split up and find a place to meet.”
Mom and Tommy were nodding their agreement, but I didn’t like that idea at all. “No!” I practically shouted.
They all looked at me in surprise. “Haven’t you noticed that the things in this carnival keep changing? If we split up, we may never find each other again. Like, the place we agreed to meet at could just -- disappear! Or worse! The carnival could split in half and we’d be separated forever! We can’t split up! We can’t! We can’t!”
“Whoa! Calm down, Little Miss,” Dad said. “It’s alright. We won’t split up. We’ll stay together, but I have a hard time believing it’s as hard as all that!”
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