Ten | newtmas

thirty three

"It's a..." We've driven a few miles, and now we're in line in front of a gated entrance. The gate, however, could not possibly hide where we are.

    "An amusement park? Absolutely."

    I can hear the delighted shrieks of kids on a ride, blaring music, the buzz of a crowd—the typical commotion that comes with a place like this. It's been a long time since I last went to anything resembling an amusement park or fair. I suspect the same is true for Thomas, because I can see him staring up at all of it with a wide grin.

    "What're we here for?" I ask. Thomas looks down at me with a frown.

    "I don't know what they teach you in England, but us Americans like to have fun," Thomas says.

    I roll my eyes. "I've lived here for twelve years, and I know how to have fun."

    "Prove it then," Thomas challenges.

    "Fine," I say, after stopping myself from instinctively glaring at him.

    Maybe I shouldn't be so cynical. It's definitely proving difficult to be negative when we reach the front of the line and Thomas is getting our bracelets to enter, the excitement evident in his voice.

    The worker looks from Thomas, to me, then back and asks, "Can he transfer out of the wheelchair?" Not me. He doesn't ask me. He asks Thomas. Now that's starting to get annoying.

    "I can," I answer. I don't love having to interact with people, but being disregarded for being in a wheelchair isn't fun.

    "Oh, great then," the worker says.

    With that, we go through the gates of Adventure World. The pathway on the inside is somewhat narrow, but luckily, it's not as crowded as it seemed to be. There are rides everywhere, and where there aren't any, there are food kiosks and games.

    "Have you been here before?" I ask. I never even knew this place existed, and the rides are all new to me.

    "When I was little, my mom used to take me and my sister here sometimes when my father was away," Thomas says. I can't see his face since he's behind me, but his happy tone falters at the memory. "They've added some things since I've been here last—ooh!"

    Thomas rushes us—while almost hitting a small girl and her guardian who I smile at apologetically—over to the entrance of a ride. It's very clearly a roller coaster, and my eyes widen looking up at it.

    I open my mouth to speak, but Thomas is already telling the girl working the machine that I can transfer onto the ride and I only have a broken ankle. She unfortunately seems fine with that, and lets us onto the ramp, getting us up onto the platform where they agree to keep my wheelchair. Thomas helps me up and into the little green car, and with the distraction of my tens, I don't get a chance to protest.

    A harness comes down over my shoulders and I grip onto the metal bars, my anxiety kicking off. It's not a big roller coaster, I can see elementary school kids coming up to ride it, but I'm still nervous.

    We start moving slowly, and I turn to see Thomas looking up at the sky, then all around him in disbelief. He's here, he's outside at an amusement park of all places, he's no longer trapped in a place like TIMI. As I watch him smile, my heart rate calms.

    Until we launch forward.

    Thomas is yelling, then I'm yelling too, and laughter escapes me from the sudden rush. Maybe roller coasters weren't so bad. My hair gets in my eyes from the wind blowing it around, and my face is completely numb from the cold stinging my face, but none of that bothers me. We're high up—very high up—and as we drop and climb, I get the beautiful sensation of moving so fast that your only choice is to feel something freeing.