The Zipper

Summer is one of those words that isn't really defined by the dictionary. It's more like it's defined by memories or things. Summer is spending all day at the pool. Summer is catching fireflies in the backyard at night. Summer is never wearing shoes; it's the amusement park, the beach, staying up all night with your best friend, having no concept of time, reading in the shade, ice cream cones, dancing in the rain, watching a thunderstorm, never putting on your sunscreen. Summer is living in the moment and not once ever regretting it.

Everyone's definition of summer is different. That's part of what makes it so awesome. So, from my personal definition of summer, I'd like to share one thing: the Homecoming Carnival.

I never liked the carnival much when I was little. The rides were either unsafe (at least to me) or no fun, it was usually muddy, and all the food, even the good food, was greasy and made me feel a little heavier the next day.

But all of that changes when you're in high school, and you're trying to have fun with your best friends while you still can, and it doesn't matter where you go as long as you're together. So, last summer, when some friends asked about going to the Homecoming Carnival, I said, "Yes." Not because I wanted to go to the carnival, but because I wanted to spend an afternoon with some friends.

The day started off like all should--with a good laugh. Now, because I'm a teenager, I basically came out of the womb texting. So, naturally, before getting out of the car, I finished up a text and put my phone in my pocket.

A few minutes later, I'd met up with my friends and decided to check my phone. However, there was something different about it...the battery cover had disappeared! Like seriously. I made everyone walk between where we'd met and where I'd been dropped off. It was just gone. Like magic, only not as cool.

So. Why tell you this? We thought it was funny. Maybe no one else does. I don't care. But it's also...FORESHADOWING! Sort of. I think so anyways.

The carnival, in case you don't know or have forgotten, is a lot of waiting around in line. It's not fun. Not even when everyone in the universe is there. So what do you do? You think. And it was somewhere in a line for something that I decided I had a new life-long goal to pursue. And that goal, my friends, was to befriend a carnie. I mean, carnies must have interesting stories, right? So I decided that, at some point in my life, I'd need to be best friends with one. And by "some point in my life," I really mean, "today or my whole life will have been a waste of time."

Now, at the carnival there's this ride called the Zipper. It's one of those rides where you get in a cage thing and then the ride goes in a circle or spins or both and your cage flips all around. The Zipper was one of those rides that, as a little, kid, I was sure I would die if I got on.

But things were different this time. When you're 15 and someone wants to ride the Zipper, no one backs down. Not even when you think you are going to die.

Remember Stacey? Stacey was there. She was also under the impression that we were going to die, so I pretended that it wasn't a big deal and told her I'd ride in the same cage as her. You know. Big, tough man and everything. Can't be a wimp now.

So, I spent the time waiting in line pretending to be brave. Well, maybe not exactly pretending. I'm pretty sure that I knew I wouldn't die, but you can never really shake off things you knew as a child; part of me wasn't sure about this.

Finally, we reached the front. Stacey and I were the first ones on for the new round, which meant that we had to around once while the first people got off and the new ones got on. We passed the time by looking at the graffiti: Carmen wanted us to call her. Or him. We toyed with the idea of doing it, but eventually settled for just memorizing his/her number.

(From left to right: Rachel, Stacey, and I

in front of a fun house mirror.)

The ride lurched as the Zipper moved to let on new passengers; Stacey screamed. Like serious terror-filled holy-crap-we're-going-to-die screamed. And she did it again and again and again and again until the cycle ended.

I saw a carnie approach the cage. At first I thought maybe the life-long dream I had decided on earlier might come true, but then he started pulling at the door.

Was he trying to make us get off? Maybe he was confused. "We haven't ridden yet," I informed him. The Zipper would be such a rip-off if I didn't even get to ride it.

The carnie didn't hear me or just thought it was best to ignore me.

"Maybe it's because I was screaming," Stacey said, "I'm sorry."

The carnie called one of his co-workers over and they both looked over the door.

"Are we going to die?" I asked jokingly. I mean, now that I was here, it wasn't so bad; we definitely wouldn't be dying anytime soon.

But the carnies didn't answer.

"We're going to die."

Stacey screamed.

"I don't wanna die!" I shouted at the carnies. Maybe more at Stacey. I didn't want to seem rude in my final moments. "There's still so much I have to do!"

Another carnie came over. With a screwdriver.

"Alright, seriously, are we going to die?" The carnie was using the screwdriver. Right before the ride was supposed to start. This wasn't safe. We were going to die. Killed by the Zipper.

I had finally made my peace with the world, totally prepared for my untimely and tragic death, when the carnies walked away without a word of explanation. The ride started up a few seconds later.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"We're going to die."

The ride was gathering speed; the cages began rocking. Ours would most likely fly off and crash into the Ferris wheel. At least, that seemed like the most probable outcome.

We went up-side down.

On the ride that would soon be our death.

Stacey screamed.

I laughed.

Maybe I'd gone totally crazy since I was about to die and everything. But I thought it was funny. Stacey's screams of pure, unadulterated terror somehow made a giggle rise in my throat. And I soon realized that we weren't going to die, no matter how much or how loud Stacey screamed.

Somehow, we survived the Zipper. Well, our heads hurt from being up-side down and we both wanted to puke, but we survived. Our fear was conquered. Stacey even wanted to go again.

I learned a lot that day. Yeah, stuff about facing your fears and obstacles, and being optimistic even in the face of certain death, and just living in the moment because you don't really know when your time is up. But I didn't really learn that. No, the real lesson here is much simpler:

Never trust a carnie.

As long as you spent money at their carnival, they are fine. They do not care if you (almost) die. Not even a little.

Never.

Trust.

A carnie.