The first half of the time in line for the log flume, I kept reiterating how terrible it would have been if we’d gone on together.
“I mean, the minute you saw the family in the little log flume car, you would have freaked. You would have panicked.”
“Yeah, it would have been a real disaster.”
“I mean you would have honestly had a panic attack on a roller coaster; your worst fear.”
“Can you imagine?”
That’s all I kept saying, enamored by this, enamored by all of this; the prospect of the nightmare coming to fruition so heavily like that. Her entire day was built around watching me get on roller coasters she felt unprepared for only to almost have the opportunity to be flung in the air unprepared, forced to face it and I was obsessed with this nightmare. We were hungry and this wasn’t helping.
“You don’t know where we are,” she had said to me.
I looked down. The hike should have been over soon but we were further than we ever were. We were weaving through trees. The evergreens were in the distant. Green meant car, I believed. I prided myself not on direction, but luck. We were not on a trail.
“Cat, it’s almost noon. You said this would take four hours tops. It’s three and a half and I haven’t seen people or anyone.”
“We accidentally got on the black trail.”
“Ok, but how long before we get off the black trail?”
She emphasized it liked that. The black trail. She did that only when she was angry.
“Probably another hour and a half.”
A crow called. Caught lying, kitty.
“It must be noon.”
She said nothing. We walked for another twenty minutes before she said.
“We are fucked, aren’t we?”
With my eyes closed, I could breathe. My limbs, fingers, lips, face; the entire body was numb. I had looked up once when the snow started to be greeted by black and white static. The branches were obscured by my body’s placement in the net and my neck was so tense I could barely move it. I closed my eyes to breathe. Breathe. I am breath. I was breathing, sleepy, going to sleep. It must be five fifteen by now when they all started howling.