Jo ducks into the walk-in freezer and is gone for a moment. Then she comes out with a few boxes of frozen goods under her arm. She fires up one of the deep firers and makes us a meal fit for a carnival. We have fish and chips, corn dogs, fried cheese sticks, and funnel cake. I can’t remember the last time I ate anything like this.
“Where did all this food come from, Jo?” Aiden asks.
“It was all here. If these fridges stay closed, they keep stuff frozen for a while. And it only took me a few days to reroute the power from the backup batteries to power the fridges.” She smiles proudly. “I’ve been eating nothing but carnival food for a year.”
We all laugh.
It is delicious and fiercely nostalgic. But my stomach aches a bit after my second corn dog. My body is used to eating a lot more simply.
Before bedtime, we both get a nice hot shower, thanks to electricity and well water. Jo’s got a good deal going for herself here. But it also makes me a bit worried. I’m afraid it’ll only be a matter of time before somebody figures out what she’s got and tries to take it from her, kind of like what happened to me back at Elk Springs. Being smart can only get you so far. You need luck, too, and that can run out at any moment.
Aiden and I sleep in dormitory bunks designed for kids who live and work here the whole summer. We sleep in shifts, so somebody is alert the whole time. I take the first shift, and Aiden takes the second.
While he’s sleeping, I can’t help but stare at him. When he’s awake, Aiden looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He always looks so serious and stressed. But now, he looks so peaceful. I’d love to know him when he’s done with whatever this damn mission is he’s on. I’d like to know the happy-go-lucky Aiden. The Aiden I caught a brief glimpse of today, walking around the park.
The next morning, we wake up to a real honest-to-goodness cup of coffee. Jo has brewed some in the kitchen. It’s been at least a year since I had one.
“Jo’s made a cup of joe.” She keeps repeating the joke, and we laugh every time. It’s actually pretty funny.
She also made us microwave breakfast sandwiches. The kind that looks like little croissants with eggs, cheese, and a sausage patty. I really don’t know how people used to live off this stuff. This entire experience feels very surreal. Like this is a little bubble in the world that the Great Collapse didn’t reach.
After breakfast, I get to work on the Earthquake ride again. Aiden comes in and helps too. Jo has most of the electrical work done on the ride. She really gets electricity, especially considering all she did with the solar power and electric fence. I help with some of the mechanical issues.
Many ride vehicles need minor repairs to their wheels or drive mechanisms. Several of them are flat-out broken, and we clear those away. Aiden also runs through the entire course of the ride, ensuring all the scenery is in working order and secured, especially the ones that move near the cars.
It takes the better part of the day, but we have the ride in working order by midafternoon. Jo, Aiden, and I stand outside it. Jo has the biggest grin on her face.
She puts her hand over the green start button on the control panel. “Just wanted to say thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you guys.” With that, she presses the button, and the entire ride comes to life. The cars move along the track, banging through the swinging doors.
“You first, Jo.” I hold out a hand to the closest car, moving along the track.
Her eyes light up, and she runs over and hops in the car.
“You guys coming?” Jo says, looking up at us.
“We’ll catch the next one,” I say.
I jump in the next car and pat the seat, shooting a sly smile at Aiden.
He returns the smile, his cheeks now rosy, and gets in beside me.
*
AIDEN
The car we’re riding in is modeled after an old red convertible, complete with a fake steering wheel. Zach and I scrunch up together. I put my arm around him, and he nuzzles into me. The feel of his body pressing against mine sends tingles through me.
Conflicting emotions fight inside me. Any time Zach enters my mind, all I want to do is hold him close and protect him from harm. I nearly lost him, and the thought of that is tearing me up inside. But with him in my arms, so adorable and content, I can only think of wanting to kiss him. It overwhelms me.
It’s a little strange that this ride has emotional significance to Zach. Like maybe I’m trouncing on sacred memories. But life is too damn short to get hung up on things like that, so I let it slip from my mind.
The car careens through the swinging doors, and we’re in the first scene—a normal-looking living room. A fake window looks out to the Golden Gate Bridge. An animatronic brother and sister sit around the TV. Suddenly, the whole room shakes. China in a display cabinet rattles, and pictures fall off the wall.
We move on to the next scene and are on a freeway. Another car is beside us. A large crack forms in the roadway, and the car falls into it.
Then our car turns into a tunnel. Large iron support beams hold it up. As we go under a beam, it cracks in the middle and starts falling toward us. The headlights of a bus head directly for us. It’s about to hit head-on when our car swerves away at the last second.
The force pushes Zach further into me, and my entire body tingles. This must be the exact moment in the ride when he kissed Felix. The whole thing is a little surreal. I take my eyes off the ride to look over at Zach. He’s gazing at me with these soft and longing eyes. I can’t resist anymore. It’s too overwhelming. My brain tells me this is a bad idea, but every other part of me disagrees. So I give in to the moment.
