“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel first!” she said suddenly, dragging Hannah toward the ticket booth. She wanted to be dizzy and unthinking, wanted them both to be.
“Do we have time?” Hannah said.
“It’s only eight thirty. It’ll take five minutes.”
Hannah hesitated.
“Please tell me you’re not scared of a Ferris wheel. It’s small.” Which was true. But it had those spinning cages that made it more fun, and what it lacked in majestic heights and thrilling speed it more than made up for by questionable construction and code violations. This was the real thrill, Maya thought, that at any time a bolt could fail and they would plummet to their deaths in a sea of funnel cakes. Not that she would say that to Hannah.
They bought the tickets and within minutes they were at the front of the line handing them off to the teenage ride operator. He led them to a cage and then pulled the safety bar over their laps. Hannah made him check the lock twice before he sealed them in.
A sudden whir.
“Oh God,” Hannah said.
And they were in motion.
Slowly they rose, spoke by neon spoke, Maya grinning with that particular bite of tension mixed with delight, until they were throned high above the crowds, the perspective strange and joyful. Soon the ride was moving faster, suddenly swinging them back and forth, then all the way around in their cage as the wheel made its arc. They squealed and gripped the bar and their screams joined those of the other riders, floating up like balloons into the summer night. Spinning, spinning, Maya looked over to see Hannah wild-eyed and emitting terrified, gleeful shrieks, the primal thrills and terror of the ride overpowering everything but the moment. Their eyes met and they both laughed. They were children, adults, best friends all at once, and Maya’s heart was a swell and then a whoosh and a scream as the wheel spun around again and again until the world was nothing more than a blur of lights and sound, her mind free of everything but merriment. It was exactly what she needed.
Suddenly the ride ground to a jerking stop, the two of them perched precariously near the top. Their cage swayed and tilted downward. The ride shuddered forward for one moment, flipping them upside down.
Then it stopped again, leaving them dangling.
Maya looked over, saw Hannah blanch. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It’ll start back up in a second.” She didn’t want to be stopped, she wanted to be moving again, wanted to be inside the spin and the noise. The blood was rushing to her head.
“Any second,” she repeated. The Ferris wheel creaked. “See?”
But nothing happened.
The bar was too distant from her lap. She was hanging out of her seat against it. It seemed like she could slip out of its protective hold so easily. She wondered if the cage would break her fall or if she would crash right through it, the force of her body pushing it open, launching her like a missile into the pavement. Hannah’s fears were rubbing off on her.
“This is how you get an aneurysm,” Hannah said, clinging to the safety bar.
“No, it isn’t,” Maya said.
The Ferris wheel made a strange groaning sound, tipping them farther.
“Oh my God,” Hannah said.
“It’s fine,” Maya said.
Someone in another car was screaming, the rest of the riders suspended in awful silence. A small crowd gathered below, looking up.
“I knew we shouldn’t have done this.”
“Any minute now.”
“I seriously hate you for this,” Hannah said.
Maya knew she didn’t mean it, but still the black feeling she had earlier returned, sinking and formless.
Blood pooled in her head, a building pressure.
Hannah was breathing strangely, making whimpering sounds.
“You’re fine. We’re fine!” Maya said.
Dammit, why had she suggested they do this?
In the distance, sirens and flashing lights. July night and still that person screaming. Too familiar. She closed her eyes against it. Her fault. Hannah’s words: I hate you. Hannah should hate her. Maybe it would even be easier if Hannah did hate her. How could she not? How could Hannah not hate her for what had happened. She wanted to say I’m sorry. She wanted to say I know I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. If only she hadn’t said anything to that scumbag at the convenience store... It was always there, hanging a thumbnail below consciousness: I’m sorry, I’m sorry. And just above it: It’s not my fault! How could I have known what they would do? I had the right to defend myself when he grabbed my ass. I am not to blame for what those sick men did.
The cage swayed.
“Stop,” Maya yelled. Her mind was suddenly bright with screaming, a hard, blazing sunshine breaking inside her skull. “Let us down!”
“Please. Shh,” Hannah said, clearly terrified.
Maya closed her eyes, breathed. “Okay. Sorry. Sorry. Okay.”
Distraction was what they needed, Hannah especially. Something light and funny. This was a thing Maya could do. A way she could help. And she needed to help. To fix the mistake she’d made. “Hey,” she said. “Remember that ski trip in eleventh grade? When we spent the whole weekend in our room high out of our minds?”
Hannah shook her head. A bead of sweat on her brow. “Not really...”
“Oh, come on, you must. Don’t you remember how the last day we decided we should get a few runs in so your new skis would look slightly used and your mom wouldn’t get mad?”
“Ha, no,” Hannah said through fear-gritted teeth.
“We were so stoned we couldn’t figure out how to get off the chairlift at the beginner hill. We just panicked.” Maya was laughing now, which was sort of an uncomfortable thing to do while she was upside down. “We just kept going up and up. All the way to the top of the mountain. Double black diamond. Vertical incline. Super icy. We were all, ‘We’re gonna diiie.’ I can’t believe you don’t remember.” She looked over at Hannah. Maybe it was helping. It seemed like it was. “What could we do but ski down?”
“Oh no. It’s sort of coming back to me now. Wasn’t that the trip when Doug Penny got his head stuck between the toilet and the tub looking for his phone?”
“Yep. He’s probably still there, actually. Anyway. We convinced ourselves we could do it. Of course, it took us all of two seconds to wipe out, and then we were both just sliding down the hill, bouncing off every mogul like pinballs. I think you lost a ski.”
Hannah let out a little laugh and Maya was pleased. She looked down to see several men had joined the teenage ride attendant and were examining the controls. A fire truck pulled in to the parking lot. If she could just keep talking until they fixed the wheel.