Stadium
A dream in which people fall off of things and die.
We -- my family and I -- were waiting in line at a carnival to ride a ride. It was enormous, so there was no question of us all getting on. It just took a long time to get everyone seated. It was a hot day, around noon, and the sun beat down on the top of my head.
The ride was made of red metal and black cushions, and resembled nothing so much as a big football stadium, up on hydraulics and empty in the middle.
I was first in line, and just after me the attendant closed the gate. I realized then how much I hated the daytime, particularly large gatherings in the daytime. I like carnival rides at night, flashing lights and cool wind. This was something else.
This was a ride with its own protocols that everyone knew. There were still some empty seats. Now was the time that anyone who was in could let all their friends in, at the cost of going to the back of the line.
The line wound all the way into the parking lot of the carnival, but I didn't really want to go on the ride in the first place. I was the first person to trade seats. I let my folks in and went out. Though the ride was on asphalt, there were hills and trees, like a county fairground, so I sat on the cool grass in the shade.
The ride started shaking. It didn't look too entertaining, but people seemed to be enjoying it. I sat there and didn't pay attention for a while.
When I looked again, the ride was still vigorously shaking. Now, however, it was fifty feet in the air. Some people had jumped or fallen out and were lying in pulpy heaps on the sizzling asphalt. I remembered cooking egg foo young and idly wondered if the bodies would be easier to scrape up after they'd sat a while.
It looked like it would take a while, so I checked out the booths. There was enough fried food to choke an Elvis, the requisite emu and Tupperware booths, the Happy Fun Bible Story booth and the people selling knives and lighters. One booth looked more interesting than the others.
It was of the standard plywood and tarp construction, but only as wide as a study cubicle or a bathroom stall. The person manning it looked like the rest of the sellers: bored, hot and subnormal. He was a skinny man of middle age with bleached blonde hair and big sunglasses, neither of which suited him much. Nowhere on the booth did it say what he was selling, only the price: $5 Dollars.
I hate that. The redundancy, not things that are $5.
I was curious, so I went up to the booth to talk to the seller. He wouldn't say what he had, just that it was $5 and it was good. So I decided to give it a go. I handed him the money, and he reached under his table. There was a glow of light that intensified, as though he had the Pulp Fiction suitcase or the Repo Man trunk down there. He rummaged around soundlessly, then turned off or shut the glow.
"Here," he said, handing me something, "This is the good kind."
It was an opaque plastic egg, the kind one used to get in a machine outside the supermarket. Now one gets a translucent hemisphere. It was intensely cold and a swirl of blue and white. I wandered off, somehow knowing the seller wouldn't tell me any more.
I sat back down where I had been before. The ride was still up high, but was vigorously swaying from side to side, rocking on four hydraulic feet. There were more bodies on the ground. The people in the ride still seemed to be having a good time.
The egg was so cold that I couldn't keep it in one hand for long. Other than the temperature, it was the same as the plastic eggs I remembered. I decided to open it.
It took a lot of prying. I eventually had to use my knife as a lever. Finally, there was a burst of cold powder that made me sneeze and tear up. When I could see again, the egg was gone. In my hands I had a tiny lizard, about the size of my thumb. It was frozen stiff, but I could tell it was alive.
It was pure white, but so white that I could see its circulatory system and its organs. On closer inspection, it was more of a lizard-man than just a lizard. It looked like the reptilian aliens, or those projections of what a dinosaur could have evolved into. Still, it was probably cold-blooded. It was quite cold, although less cold than the egg had been.
I decided I'd better warm it up, as well as keep it safe. Should have kept it in the egg until I got home. Oh, well. I carefully put the lizard-dino-alien in my bra. Between the breasts, where it would be safe and right next to my heart and the concentrated heat of my mammalian blood.
The ride started to quiet down, then to slowly descend. Oddly, even when it wasn't moving, some people were still falling. Some of them seemed to be jumping wholly on purpose, as though the ride had made them lose their will to live.
The lizard-man in my bra was almost warm, and it started to move. I was a little worried, but it didn't seem to have claws. Its skin was very smooth, too, more like a snake than an iguana. I checked on it visually and saw that it was breathing now, and had curled into a fetal position.
People were starting to get off the ride, so I went to see if my family had died or not.
The ride was made of red metal and black cushions, and resembled nothing so much as a big football stadium, up on hydraulics and empty in the middle.
I was first in line, and just after me the attendant closed the gate. I realized then how much I hated the daytime, particularly large gatherings in the daytime. I like carnival rides at night, flashing lights and cool wind. This was something else.
This was a ride with its own protocols that everyone knew. There were still some empty seats. Now was the time that anyone who was in could let all their friends in, at the cost of going to the back of the line.
The line wound all the way into the parking lot of the carnival, but I didn't really want to go on the ride in the first place. I was the first person to trade seats. I let my folks in and went out. Though the ride was on asphalt, there were hills and trees, like a county fairground, so I sat on the cool grass in the shade.
The ride started shaking. It didn't look too entertaining, but people seemed to be enjoying it. I sat there and didn't pay attention for a while.
When I looked again, the ride was still vigorously shaking. Now, however, it was fifty feet in the air. Some people had jumped or fallen out and were lying in pulpy heaps on the sizzling asphalt. I remembered cooking egg foo young and idly wondered if the bodies would be easier to scrape up after they'd sat a while.
It looked like it would take a while, so I checked out the booths. There was enough fried food to choke an Elvis, the requisite emu and Tupperware booths, the Happy Fun Bible Story booth and the people selling knives and lighters. One booth looked more interesting than the others.
It was of the standard plywood and tarp construction, but only as wide as a study cubicle or a bathroom stall. The person manning it looked like the rest of the sellers: bored, hot and subnormal. He was a skinny man of middle age with bleached blonde hair and big sunglasses, neither of which suited him much. Nowhere on the booth did it say what he was selling, only the price: $5 Dollars.
I hate that. The redundancy, not things that are $5.
I was curious, so I went up to the booth to talk to the seller. He wouldn't say what he had, just that it was $5 and it was good. So I decided to give it a go. I handed him the money, and he reached under his table. There was a glow of light that intensified, as though he had the Pulp Fiction suitcase or the Repo Man trunk down there. He rummaged around soundlessly, then turned off or shut the glow.
"Here," he said, handing me something, "This is the good kind."
It was an opaque plastic egg, the kind one used to get in a machine outside the supermarket. Now one gets a translucent hemisphere. It was intensely cold and a swirl of blue and white. I wandered off, somehow knowing the seller wouldn't tell me any more.
I sat back down where I had been before. The ride was still up high, but was vigorously swaying from side to side, rocking on four hydraulic feet. There were more bodies on the ground. The people in the ride still seemed to be having a good time.
The egg was so cold that I couldn't keep it in one hand for long. Other than the temperature, it was the same as the plastic eggs I remembered. I decided to open it.
It took a lot of prying. I eventually had to use my knife as a lever. Finally, there was a burst of cold powder that made me sneeze and tear up. When I could see again, the egg was gone. In my hands I had a tiny lizard, about the size of my thumb. It was frozen stiff, but I could tell it was alive.
It was pure white, but so white that I could see its circulatory system and its organs. On closer inspection, it was more of a lizard-man than just a lizard. It looked like the reptilian aliens, or those projections of what a dinosaur could have evolved into. Still, it was probably cold-blooded. It was quite cold, although less cold than the egg had been.
I decided I'd better warm it up, as well as keep it safe. Should have kept it in the egg until I got home. Oh, well. I carefully put the lizard-dino-alien in my bra. Between the breasts, where it would be safe and right next to my heart and the concentrated heat of my mammalian blood.
The ride started to quiet down, then to slowly descend. Oddly, even when it wasn't moving, some people were still falling. Some of them seemed to be jumping wholly on purpose, as though the ride had made them lose their will to live.
The lizard-man in my bra was almost warm, and it started to move. I was a little worried, but it didn't seem to have claws. Its skin was very smooth, too, more like a snake than an iguana. I checked on it visually and saw that it was breathing now, and had curled into a fetal position.
People were starting to get off the ride, so I went to see if my family had died or not.