by Kathryn O'Halloran
(02/14/07)
"I hate theme parks," I tell Alice. "I hate the crowds, I hate the noise and more than anything I hate the rollercoasters." I fold into myself, pouty and petulant.
"You'll love this one," she says with a grin. Alice never takes no for an answer. She brushes back my hair then takes off, sure that I will follow. And I do. I chase her through the car park, this wild girl of mine. But I won't smile, I won't laugh, I won't pretend. Not even for her.
She is so fearless; she doesn't understand the fear in others. She takes courage for granted and goads me on. Alice leaps into space, free falling, trusting she'll land unharmed. I hesitate on the brink. Sometimes I think I'll lose her while I hesitate.
"Come on," she says, pushing me forward. "Look around you, this is different."
I don't want to admit that she is right, as we pass surreal sights of dreamlike wonder -- a fairground that lacks the abrasive edges of too-loud music and maniacal quests for fun. I slip my hand into the tight back pocket of her jeans, to let her know she is forgiven for the dirty trick of bringing me here.
This is softness -- gelato blues and greens and pinks; jewelry box music tinkling in the breeze. Everything moves with an underwater grace; with the indolence of a young girl eating ice cream on a sunny afternoon.
Maybe it's a fantasy Alice has bought to life. The Ruby Slipper bar in a field of poppies; floats of drag queens and tinsel -- a mardi gras parade every hour on the hour; rainbow carousels, magic mirrors that shimmer with absurd beauty.
A huge woman takes a hammer to test her strength; snake-tattooed biceps rippling into action as she rings the winning bell. Her prize -- a china doll as petite and precious as her companion.
Two black bobbed girls, almost twins, link arms and giggle as they share a stick of fairy floss bigger than their heads.
A temptress with dangerous curves shimmies around a candy-striped pole. Her hips move with mesmerizing grace. I pause and watch until Alice grabs my hand.
"Is this real?" I ask Alice.
"It's as real as you want it to be." As she tosses her head, her flame-red hair glows in the sun, seeming to come to life in that brief instant. My mouth twitches at the corners, almost a smile. Against my will, a smile. She presses her body against me, her compact firmness merging with my softness. She thinks she can be forgiven anything. I slip my arm around her waist, anchoring her to me.
We stop to get tickets, behind a beefcake in a muscle top, carrying a child on his shoulders. A little girl with blonde ringlets and caramel eyes. I don't look at Alice. I don't need to look to know the question written on her face and I'm not ready to acknowledge it. She asks all the questions a girl like me shouldn't have to answer.
Alice gets the tickets and drags me forward.
"Not the rollercoaster," I scream.
"Just you wait," she says and laughs.
I'm silent in the queue for the ride. I don't want to think about plummeting or plunging or how a tiny piece of metal is the difference between life and death. She squeezes my hand -- an acknowledgement of my fear and a reassurance. I suck down my fear and smile back at her.
We get into the carriage and she straps me in. I hand her the other seatbelt and she shakes her head. Alice doesn't need to be strapped down.
As the carriage takes off, she kneels upon the floor.
"No Alice," I whisper. "It isn't safe."
"Everything's safe here," she tells me. "Everything's safe when you're with me. You're got to believe that." She anchors herself into position, between my legs.
"No."
She can't do this. I need to focus my energy on staying alive and intact and not falling. This isn't a game but she's between my legs and smiling and I feel dizzy already. I want to get out but the ride has started and there's no turning back. I push her away but she ducks, knowing I won't bend forward. I can't change my momentum or look away or relax my body. And she knows that I forbid her nothing.
"Relax," says Alice. That's easy for her to say.
The carriage jerks and I feel for something solid and grounding. My fingers twist through the metal grid behind me, clenching, white knuckled.
As the rollercoaster makes its slow ascent -- clack, clack, clack -- she edges my skirt up high. I jerk my leg away. Not here, not now.
Alice stares into my eyes, trying to distract me from her spider fingers creeping up my legs, inching with each clacking motion. The rock of the carriage moves me against her, my leg presses against the hardness of her breast. Her fingers creep up, skilled in seduction.
I look away. We're a long way from the ground. High enough for my heart to tighten into a hard ball. When I turn back to her, she grins with lascivious greed and licks my knees. Her fingers spread in circles, thumbs edging closer in. I can't resist. I open my legs, willing her to me.
I stiffen as she strokes the wetness of my gusset. My body betrays me with its arousal, anticipation merged with fear. She knows. I close my eyes.
As the carriage drops for the first time, her fingers slide inside me.
At the bottom, my heart catches up with my body. Alice looks up and smiles. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" And the carriage climbs again.
I want to reach out, to touch her, to stroke her hair so I start to unfurl my fingers from the wire. Then we plummet and I tighten my grasp.
Through dips and spirals, she works me with her fingers -- slow and teasing on the incline, giving me time to think and to breathe and to question my own sanity; manic and hard on the dips, so I scream out, not knowing if my squeals are desire or fear. Screams so distant that I barely recognise them as my own, blending with fairy music and calliope chimes and the calls of the hot dog vendor. Screams that capture the wind and suck the breath right out of me.
I squirm with heat. I shudder with the rock of the carriage. I sweat -- salty beads on my thighs that mix with the juices of my cunt, making my legs and my butt slide around the vinyl seat, twisting and writhing and melting. Giddy from height and speed and the touch of her. Her hair tickles my thigh, her breath caresses my skin. She smells of daffodils and candy. I smell of lust.
Just as I start to loosen up, we plummet and I solidify.
When I open my eyes, lights sparkle below us, stars sparkle above. We accelerate and the stars and the lights become one, brighter and shinier and more intense. Colours flash past in a Neapolitan blur. My head sinks back, searching for stars. My head rolls forward. I focus on her and relax. I want to trace my fingers around her lips but I can't let go. I want to touch her, to call out her name. I want her fingers to fuck me harder, to go deeper inside me.
She taunts me with whispers I can barely hear, urging me to let go. I remember her promises of safety. I want to believe her. I want to let go, just for her. For a moment, nothing exists but her and me and my pussy that pulsates with desire for her. I forget the ground and the danger and the risk of falling forever. Her fingers swirl within me and I think I can I loosen my grip.
She bites into my flesh as we plummet again.
Wire cuts my fingers; I taste metal.
We rise. Higher and higher and higher. Her fingers press against my clit; soft, sweeping touches, softer and softer and softer. All touch is electricity, generating sparks and snapping around the metal cage.
I am about to burst, in a vertigo haze. This is more than I can stand. I want it to stop, I want it. I want it. I want to surrender. I want to leap.
At the top, I suck in my breath as we pause for a half-second. This is the final dip. This is the one.
"Ready?" asks Alice and I know I finally am. I caress her and pull her closer. My belly is twisted and my cunt on fire. I am liquid and heat, out of control, red lights flashing past, music and stars and daffodils.
I am falling, falling, falling. I don't care. I let go.
This is real. This is a dream. This is forever.
