CCLaP

Shiny Things
Kathryn O'Halloran

'I hate theme parks,' I tell her. 'I hate the crowds, I hate the noise and more than anything I hate the rollercoasters.'

'You'll love this one,' she says with a grin. Alice never takes no for an answer. I follow her through the car park, this wild girl of mine, not happy but less petulant than I would be with any other person on earth.

She is so fearless; she doesn't understand the fear in others. She takes courage for granted and goads me on. Alice leaps into space, free-falling, trusting she'll land unharmed. I hesitate on the brink. Sometimes I think I'll lose her while I hesitate.

'Come on,' she says, pushing me forward. 'Look around you, this is different.'

I don't want to admit that she is right, as we pass surreal sights of dreamlike wonder -- a fairground that lacks the abrasive edges of too-loud music and quest for fun.

I slip my hand into the back pocket of her jeans, to let her know she is forgiven for the dirty trick of bringing me here.

This is softness -- gelato blues and greens and pinks; jewellery box music tinkling in the breeze. Everything moves with an underwater grace; with the indolence of a young girl eating ice cream on a sunny afternoon, sleepy yet purposeful.

The Ruby Slipper bar in a field of poppies; floats of drag queens and tinsel -- a Mardi Gras parade every hour on the hour; rainbow carousels, magic mirrors that shimmer with absurd beauty.

A huge woman takes a hammer to test her strength, snake-tattooed biceps rippling into action as she rings the winning bell. She selects her prize, a china doll as petite and precious as her companion.

Two black-bobbed girls, almost twins, link arms and giggle as they share a stick of fairy floss bigger than their heads.

'Is this real?' I ask Alice.

'It's as real as you want it to be.' She tosses her head and her flame-red hair glows in the sun.

We stop to get tickets, behind a beefcake in a muscle top, carrying a child on his shoulders. A little girl with blonde ringlets and caramel eyes. I don't look at Alice. I know the question written on her face without looking and I'm not ready to acknowledge it.

She gets the tickets and drags me forward.

'Not the rollercoaster,' I scream.

'Just you wait,' she says and laughs.

I am silent in the queue for the ride. I don't want to think about plummeting or plunging or how a tiny piece of metal is the difference between life and death.

We get into the carriage and she straps me in. I hand her the other seatbelt and she shakes her head. Alice doesn't need to be strapped down.

As the carriage takes off, she kneels upon the floor.

'No Alice,' I whisper. 'It isn't safe.'

'Everything's safe here,' she tells me. 'Everything's safe when you're with me. You have to believe that.' She anchors herself into position, between my legs. This is going to be some kind of ride.

My fingers twist through the metal grid behind me, clenching, white-knuckled.

As the rollercoaster makes its slow ascent -- clack, clack, clack -- she lifts my skirt and strokes my thighs. This isn't a game. Anticipation merges with fear; my skin tingles.

As the carriage drops the first time, her fingers slide inside me. I gasp.

At the bottom, my heart catches up with my body. Alice looks up and smiles. 'That wasn't so bad, was it?' And the carriage climbs again.

I want to reach out, to touch her, to stroke her hair, so I unfurl my fingers from the wire. Then we start to plummet and I tighten my grasp.

Through dips and spirals, she works me with her fingers -- slow and teasing on the incline, manic and hard on the dip. My heart swells and contracts, like a carousel horse.

I sweat, salty drops mixing with the juices of my body. Screams so distant I barely recognise them as my own, mingling with fairy music. Hair tickles my thighs. Lights sparkle below us. Colours flash past in a Neapolitan blur. Wire cuts my fingers; I taste metal.

We rise. Higher and higher and higher. Her fingers press against my clit; soft, sweeping touches, softer and softer and softer. All touch is electricity, generating sparks and snapping around the metal cage.

I am about to burst, in a vertigo haze. This is more than I can stand. I want it to stop, I want it. I want it. I want to surrender. I want to leap.

At the top, I suck in my breath as we pause for a half-second. This is the final dip. This is the one.

'Ready?' asks Alice and I know I finally am. I caress her and pull her closer. My belly is twisted and my cunt on fire. I am liquid and heat, out of control, eyes closed, red lights flashing past.

I am falling, falling, falling. I don't care.

This is real. This is a dream. This is forever.