The amusement park

The first ride was an easy float above a wave. It turned up and down and side-to-side, a view of the river all the time. The second was the scare. Tossed up the tower to the top, and dangled in the air. We screamed mad laughter as the top twirled around and dropped us stories to the floor.

We bought bunny ears and hamburgers, took pictures of funny photo booths. Got soaked on the log ride, waited too long in lines. Threw hands up as our end of the Viking ship hurtled itself towards the end of the park.

First the rollercoaster, then the rain, time to go inside. But first, bumper cars, watched in wonder as Koreans drove without slamming others to the curb. Held back racist driving jokes, and waited for our turn. When it came, we had no mercy, wild eyes and feet to the floor.

And as they watched us destroy ourselves, two Koreans laughed from the sideline. So they said, with a shaking head, just loud enough for us to hear: White people.

The carnival

The vendor offered fuzzy mittens. My coworkers said I was crazy to elect a trip to an outdoor theme park in winter. But the shuffle wait of the line up was coldest, blood pumped to skin top the second the rides ripped us away from gravity and flipped our heads above the ground.

The first ride had flames and spun in circles, stopping to let our hair dangle down at the bag-holders waving wildly and snapping photos of our mid air spread. Next was Aladdin’s carpet, which shot round and round, leaving my stomach ten feet above my head.

On to the world cup to be spun soccer balls, then the fun house of horrors, full of tilted floors and hallways dimmed in light. A pirate ship and a sled race; age-old bumper cars.

Best was the shot drop, a cannon launch into the air. The theme park looked a magic miniature from the tower-top, just as the metal above us clinked to our seat-backs and dropped us down.

And after all the excitement, the trolley back to the entrance never seemed so slow.