A Twisted Ride

A twist of fate tested the metal of my marriage the night of the carnival.

Sirens rose from outside the midway amidst the cacophony of the ding, ding of the Water Gun Race, thuds from Whack-a-Mole, calliope music, and whoops of victory from the Ring Toss. Happiness prevailed as fun seekers laughed, consumed sausages and cakes, and dared the next thrill ride. I loved the excitement of a good carnival.

The municipal sirens warbled to a fevered pitch and disrupted the symphony of fun. Emergency lights strobed the midway, and medics ran through the concourse, shocking the crowd to reality.

Competing tides of people ebbed and flowed from the direction of the thrill rides. I grabbed a panicked woman's arm.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"The Helicopter ride broke away and flew into the Ferris wheel," the woman panted, "it's awful."

"Did you see a blonde-haired woman in an electric blue t-shirt?"

"Mister, let go of me," and she shoved my arms away.

Fearful for my wife, Tammy, I ran into the tidal onslaught of panicked riders. Our struggles of late had been surreal in our separation. She claimed my indecisiveness and lack of commitment to our relationship had become unbearable.

The carnival date was an attempt to determine the bond of our marriage. Afraid of heights, I had ordered a funnel cake while she rode the Ferris wheel. We seemed to be on two different pages in life.

I arrived at the center of the midway, where riders had screamed with joy at the thrills of controlled physics just moments earlier. Now, like an aeronautical crash site, twisted extensions of steel from the Helicopter ride lay jammed against the frame of the Ferris wheel, and it leaned off-center.

"Stand back, everyone. It's going to collapse," a paramedic yelled.

I scanned the Ferris Wheel for my wife. A blue t-shirt sleeve fluttered like a banner from a rider's pod near the apex. The question of the night, my moment of truth, had come.

I don't want to lose her. The reality of our marital problems erupted in my mind. I'm the problem. Tammy is right. Confronted by the risk of loss, my emotions erupted from my heart and mind. I shouted, "I love her," for all to hear. Prove it, my mind screamed within. Grow a pair, or are you forever going to be a coward?

Driven by anger, I ignored my lifetime fears and the objections of the police. Desperation pushed me through the tape of the secured perimeter to climb the twisted wheel's frame.

“What are you doing? Stop!”

My acrophobia was not a fear of heights but of falling. The same way Tammy believed I was afraid of falling in love with her.

"Tammy, I'm coming for you," I yelled.

Don't look down.

Strenuous workouts at the gym during our separation paid dividends as I climbed the maintenance ladder. Adrenaline, fed by raging fear, cloaked the pain on my palms as the jagged rivets sliced into my hands.

Look up, prove yourself. Climb!

Like a spiderman, I walked the top rail with blistered and cut hands.

"Tammy, I'm coming," I shouted as I could see Tammy's pod just ahead.

A brunette woman in a blue t-shirt said, "Mister, I don't know a Tammy, but will gladly change my name to get down from here."

I guided the trapped riders one by one down the path I had found until all were safe. Gawkers on the ground cried, "He's a hero," while cameras flashed, and I panted in exhaustion.

"Hey, Mister," said a voice from behind me. I turned to see my beautiful wife in her electric blue t-shirt and eyes brimming with tears.

"I love you too, you fool, but you're my fool," she said and fell into my arms.