To my Olympic Dreamer
“You’re gonna make me look bad,” I said, gazing up at it. She smiled and laughed lightly as I continued, “I’m gonna be up there, clinging on to you, with my eyes held tight shut.”
Shaking my head, I looked up again at the Ferris Wheel. This was way too high up. I tried to put a cease to my musings when I noticed a look come over her face. Taking note of the passing crowd, I asked:
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” she said, shivering slightly. She ran her fingers through her hair distractedly. “I’m just really claustrophobic, and stuff like that bothers me.”
She must have noticed that my features had not relaxed because she said:
“I’m fine,” with an effort to brush it away. “I just don’t like when people I don’t know touch me.”
“So how do you like parties?” I asked almost incredulously, imagining in my mind the party where I’d met her—and, specifically, the type of dancing done at said parties—the type of dancing we did at our first party.
“I don’t really,” she giggled before pausing, “…You haven’t seen me at a really bad party…my friends would have to crowd around me.”
“A little wall of defense,” I smiled, “and the guys would have to ask permission to dance with you?”
“Yep,” she smiling back. “And they ask too.”
We laughed. I must have gone quiet as my mind drifting to the night when we had met. She broke the silence first.
“Imagine if you had never asked for a dance,” she said, “we wouldn’t be here right now...”
“Imagine if I had never ran track,” I added, thinking about all of the things that had to fall into place to get to this night—and anxious to put the alternative reality out of my mind but unable to prevent my fears escaping my lips, “I would have never gotten to see you again.”
“That’s true,” she replied slowly.
My eyes wandered to the ride next the one we were about to get on. The spinning, the screaming… At least I’m getting on that one. Shaking my head, and attempting to think positive thoughts, I looked down at her. She was looking at me, a small smile creeping on her lips.
“Just don’t think about it,” she said. “Just look at me.”
That’s all I want to do. My eyes rested on her face and I began to calm down slightly….And then the ride began to stop…and I realized that I’d have to get on pretty soon. Walking gingerly to the steps, I began to turn my head to look back and was greeted with a shove in the small of my back.
“Come on” she said, saying my name mock sternly. “I’m not riding this by myself.”
Of course I couldn’t let her ride the Ferris Wheel by herself. Though deeply cognizant of my intense fear of heights, I was more fully aware of the moment that I had at hand with her. It’s hard to believe this is just my fourth time seeing her in person in 5 months! I could not let something as little as a lifelong fear of falling from a roller coaster to my screaming death stand in the way of making the night as special and memorial as possible.
As I walked tentatively up the steps, my hand reached out to the railing for support. The railing immediately sagged left under my weight. Recoiling, I was reminded instantly of my lone experience on the BatWing—the one when the screw fell beside my seat as I was being strapped in.
Somehow, she knew what I was thinking.
“It’s just the railing,” she said with a mix of humor and exasperation. “It’s not part of the ride.”
“Yeah but this is Six Flags all over again.” I closed my eyes, doing a familiar shake of the head and muttering, “a Ferris Wheel…”
“No it’s not,” she sighed good-naturedly, “look this is not even a Ferris Wheel! It’s the Jolly Giant.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Only for you,” I said as I stepped up on the platform holding the ride.
She smiled as she followed me and took a seat in the Jolly Giant chariot awaiting us.
Resigned that there really was not turning back, I gingerly took a seat beside her. It felt like Hell was yanking our seat back and I shot up.
“Whooooooa,” I said, voice cracking, “I just felt it lean back.”
“Do you want me to sit on the other side?” she asked, patiently.
I nodded sheepishly, and began rationalizing the weight disparity to her, though we both knew it was mostly for my own benefit.
At the first feeling of movement my eyes slammed shut.
An invisible burst of laughter met my ears.
“I told you I’d have my eyes closed,” I said, my feeble laugh swallowed by the Jolly Giant’s slow crawl upward.
“It’s ok,” she chuckled, “you’re really cute with your eyes closed.”
Hoping that my smile was only 40% grimace I reached out my hands to her. She placed her hands in mine and I tried to not grip too tightly as the Jolly Giant continued its agonizingly slow climb.
Anticipating the peak after the now steady climb, I released one of her hands in order to wrap an arm around the pole between us.
“I wish I wasn’t scared of heights,” I whispered bitterly. “This is supposed to be romantic…I’m supposed to have my arm around you…and everything,”
“It’s fine,” she said. ‘This is romantic.”
I gave her had a gentle squeeze…and the pole a harder one as I felt the Jolly Giant making another revolution.
“…we could do almost anything up here,” she was saying, as I leaned my head on the pole. “I could take my shirt off and no one would know.”
More invisible laughter.
“Wouldn’t the people see you?” I asked.
“Not this high up,” she replied. “…I think I’ll do it.”
Yeah, my eyes remained shut. Weighing the possibility of this not being a ploy to get him to open his eyes, I contemplated—
“Ok, I’m putting my shirt back on,” she sighed.
Lamenting the decision to now crack my eyes open, I felt us getting closer to the ground and opened my eyes for a second. A second it was as I noticed the open air behind her and the people on the ground.
“Don’t look at them,” she said, “look in my eyes.”
Slowly opening them again, I tried my best to look at no one but her. I stared into her calm and reassuring face. Into her eyes. I was struck with the strong hint that I didn’t want to look anywhere else in the world…
She would ask him later that night what I was feeling.
It was like nothing bad would ever happen to me. And even if it did, it wouldn’t matter because you are with me.
The ride began to slow. We reached the bottom with me staring in her eyes and only looking away to notice that we had, in fact, not died on the Jolly Giant.
“See,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”
-Eberechi