Time’s Fool © 2002 Morgan Noël 162 "Didneyland" At Disneyland one creates (with a great deal of help) the idea that Every Thing Not Required Is Forbidden. And so we see, as in any other totalitarian state, the internalization of authority, and its transformation into a Sense of Right. David Mamet The Goat pulled into the campground around 6:30 AM. Gib decided he probably could have shaved a half an hour off the time, on the desert road between Vegas and LA, but he had mulled over the wedding for most of the drive, picking out moments of enjoyment. As he indulged in instant nostalgia, his speed would drift off. He would eventually glance down at the speedometer and see he was only going 75, and curse his inattentiveness. He would accelerate back to a more reasonable speed of 95 and apologize to the GTO for embarrassing it. He said the words quietly, though, so Ruth wouldn’t hear him and make fun of him. A medium fog was lying over the campground, and it made the drive through it exceedingly spooky. To get to the Ragers’s site, Gib drove past roads full of campers with senior citizens sitting outside already, even at the early hour. The camper people watched Gib and Ruth through the early morning fog without any expression -- not hostility, nor friendliness. Finally, they saw a crowd of people standing around a cookfire and a picnic table. Almost all of the people had grey hair except for and two families with little kids and the three Ragers. Marion and Campy were cooking a huge breakfast, including oatmeal that was steaming in a huge pot on the fire, scrambled eggs, bacon and hot coffee. Garrity was serving out the food from the table and holding court. In the mist, it looked like a party that had started the night before and was still going strong. Once Gib and Ruth walked up, Marion and Campy started to clean and pack everything while Garrity said goodbye and a couple of words to each person. Most people looked startled for a second when he brought up the environment, but Garrity charmed even the most reluctant of them. He left a stack of photocopied pamphlets on the table as he waved goodbye. Some of the older folks even picked them up and started to read. "Come on," he said to Gib and Ruth as he put his arms around their shoulders and steered them toward the car. "Campy and Frank will follow us in the van." "You're riding with us?" Gib asked, irritated but trying not to show it. "Sure! You've got a cool car!" Gib looked across at Ruth and she rolled her eyes as she mimed a chattering mouth with her hands. After helping Campy and Marion load up the van, they made their way back to 210 which would turn into 57 and head south toward Anaheim and Disneyland. Gib hoped against the odds that Garrity would nap, but instead he leaned over the back seat with his head between Ruth and Gib and started a non-stop talkathon. "You ever been to Disneyland before, Gib?" "No, World." "Right. Epcot Center and alligators, the whole shebang. I'll bet you loved it." "Not really." Garrity looked shocked. "What? A kid not loving anything Disney? What was Time’s Fool © 2002 Morgan Noël 163 wrong?" "It was a class trip for high school and I was sixteen. The only thing a sixteen year old can do at Disneyworld is try to buy beer and hit on girls in front of her parents. And fail miserably at both." "Geeze, Gib. Didn't you have any sense of fun? Amusements parks are great! Disney, Six Flags, Great Adventure. Anything." "Ask Ethan about roller coasters," Ruth said. Garrity's eyes widened with delight. "Roller coasters! I love roller coasters! They're the best thing in the world. When I was a kid, my Dad would take me along on business trips if they went anywhere near a roller coaster I'd heard of. I mean, one time in Cleveland, he ditched out on reservations at a four-star French restaurant when the Maitre D' told him about a rickety old wooden deathtrap at a traveling carny thirty miles south of there." "It's almost heartwarming," Ruth said. "You can't tell me you don't like roller coasters, Gib." "They're okay, I guess. Like cheesecake. I like it fine, but I never think to have it on my own." "Wow, that kills me. I think they're as good as sex!" Ruth laughed. "No, seriously!" Garrity said defensively. "Maybe even better, cause they’re reliable. Speed and centrifugal force. “Wait, let me tell you my best roller coaster story. My Dad took me on a trip to New York when I was eight. I had read everything I could about the Coney Island Cyclone -- it was my whole life for the month leading up to the trip. The Cyclone opened on June 26, 1927. It's not the oldest wooden coaster still in existence -- there's one in Alltoona, Pennsylvania that was built in 1902. But it's a legend." "That's pretty good," Ruth said. "How'd you remember all that?" "I told you, this is my favorite roller coaster story. And the Cyclone is my favorite roller coaster. Here's what happened. We flew into LaGuardia at night, and we stayed in the Waldorf. I have this memory of staring up at the huge clock in the lobby of the Waldorf. "My father had a business meeting at 7:30 AM, and he said he would be back by eleven to take me to Coney Island for the afternoon. I had found out there was an all-day price for the ride, where you could ride for as long as you wanted for most of the day, until about four o'clock. So at 10:30, I was ready and waiting in the lobby of the Waldorf. I was too excited to sit down, so I started pacing around, and every few minutes I would look up at the clock -- made out of this dark, dark, wood. They must have just polished it, because I remember that it smelled of lemon oil. I even remember asking one of the clerks if the clock had the right time. Because eleven came and went and Dad didn't show. I found out later the meeting ran long. "But all I knew was that he wasn't there, and that the Cyclone was rolling up and down without me. Every time I looked up, it was like being stabbed." Garrity paused and looked at both Gib and Ruth. "No, that's not right. That's me trying to be clever. I'm not a writer like you, Gib, so I probably sound stupid trying to make a metaphor or something." Time’s Fool © 2002 Morgan Noël 164 "No, you're fine," Ruth said. Gib just nodded. "Except I'm not telling the truth," Garrity said. "It didn't feel like being stabbed. It felt just like walking home from elementary school and having to pee. Maybe home is only four or five blocks away, but it feels like forever. You cross your legs and limp along and try not to think of waterfalls or rivers. I'll bet every little kid who walks home knows what that feels like. Unless maybe little girls pee differently, and it's easier for them to hold it." Both Gib and Garrity waited for Ruth to chip in, but she just shook her head. "Trade secrets, gentlemen." Garrity said. "So at twenty after eleven, I just took off. I got in a cab and asked the cabbie to take me to Coney. He didn't even look at me, just took off. About ten blocks south, he finally realized I was just a kid in the back seat. We were stopped at a traffic light and he gently asked me if I had enough money to pay for a ride to Coney. I didn't have any idea, so he took me to a subway, and told me to get on the train at this exact stop, and take it to the end of the line, and that would be Coney. He didn't even charge me for the ten block ride -- imagine a New York cabbie doing that. "It took about an hour, but at the end of the line, I followed the crowd, and there was the Boardwalk. Nathan's hot dogs, freak shows, all that. I ran all the way to the ticket seller, and got a full pass. It didn’t cost all my money, but I remember it was close to it. I didn’t even have money for the subway ride back. But I didn’t care. I just rode and rode for hours. "Here's what I love about the Cyclone. The first drop. Some people even capitalize it.” Garrity held up his hands and framed his words. “The Drop. It's amazing. There are taller drops around and crazy loop-the-loops and all sort of stuff, but The Drop is always the best. You hit the first crest and drop eighty-five feet." "Eighty-five feet?" Ruth asked. "Oh, that's actually not that big a drop for a roller coaster. Some of the big steel one are a lot higher and drop further. But the Cyclone does it at a sixty degree angle.