Behind the Falls Page 11

  “I want to do it again,” I say in awe. Max claps a hand on my shoulder and grins.

  “We’ll do this one again and then it’s time to move on because there are plenty more and we’re going to work our way up as we go.” I still love the rush of the air and the wooptie doos in my stomach but it’s a lot more tame the second time around because I’m no longer terrified.

  The next coaster has a longer line which gives me time to worry. Max tries to distract me. “Usually this is where I totally psyche myself into being afraid,” he says, “But I don’t think you need my help being scared. Ask Tabitha about standing in ride lines with me. She HATES it,” he laughs.

  He completely changes the subject and asks me about my life in Illinois and what it was like to be homeschooled and if I know what I’m going to college for. I tell him that I’m still a bit confused about what I want to do for the rest of my life but at least I know where I’ll be going to school. If I go to DePaul I get to go on them. It’s one of the perks Dad gets for teaching there. It’s a pretty damned big one too.

  “It’s ridiculous to expect kids to know what they want to do forever at seventeen,” Max says. “Well, hell, you aren’t even seventeen yet. I still don’t know what I want to do. I’m still not sure where I want to go. I have at least six schools picked out and I’m sure I’ll find a few more in the next few months. I should try to narrow it down to someplace warm. This is the first really cold place I’ve ever lived and I have to say, I’m not a fan.

  “I know I want a good art program and I’d like to delve into music technology and recording. I also really want to get into forensics too though, especially computer forensics. It should be simple finding a school that offers all that right?” He laughs. The music I can see and the art makes sense but forensics? I would have never thought of that as a career choice for Max.

  “You’ve only lived in warm places? Where exactly have you lived?” I asked.

  “I was born in Florida and spent the first four years of my life there. I still visit my grandmother sometimes. We lived in South Carolina, Georgia, California, Hawaii, Nevada and here. I think I liked Hawaii the most.”

  The conversation has actually taken us through the entire line. I’m feeling nervous as we board the ride but the last one was okay so I try to relax. This is a wooden roller coaster called The Comet and it too starts out with a hill. This hill is not a tease like the Trailblazer. When we go over the top we plunge down. I can hear the screams of people on the ride, whether real or fake I have no way of knowing. I for one have my jaw clenched tight and I’m hanging on to the safety bar with white knuckles. Max has his hands in the air and his head thrown back and I think I’m the crazy one?

  After the ride Max assesses the situation and between the two of us we determine I’m okay for the next ride. I can tell Max loves this. He’s smiling the entire time and his eyes are wide and bright. He’s animated and laughing and it makes me feel happy too. Dr. Bachman always wants me to confront fears and do things out of my comfort zone. I guess that’s why Mom told Max this was okay. I’m glad they schemed behind my back.

  Max knows exactly what order to take the coasters in so that they get progressively more intense. I’m glad we started out small but I also like the adrenaline rush of the more aggressive rides. At one point Max asks if I want to take a break and ride something else but now I’m all about riding every coaster in the park. It’s become a personal challenge that I need to complete. I can’t believe I never had the nerve to do this.

  Each ride is terrifyingly exhilarating. There’s a difference between fun fear and adrenaline and panic fear. I’ve tried to explain this to my cousin. Kimber doesn’t understand my anxiety and panic disorder any more than the next person and we’ve known each other our whole lives.

  Amusement park fear, especially this roller coaster stuff, is self-inflicted fear that we do to ourselves for fun. Before today I would have never thought that possible. Adrenaline is exciting and it’s nothing like the fear I feel with a panic attack. That kind of fear is not something I look for on purpose and it’s not exhilarating and it does NOT feel good. It feels like I’m literally dying. Even after all of these years of anxiety and panic attacks I’m still convinced I’m dying almost every time I have one. I know I’m not going to die today. I might not have believed that in the beginning but hours into this experiment I’m still here and I’m still having fun.

  We ride this coaster called the Wild Mouse which has no real big hills but it has the added fright of feeling like you’re going to shoot over the edge of the tracks at every corner and the ride is ALL corners. Max is quiet on this one and doesn’t yell and throw his head back. It doesn’t even go that fast. He’s probably just bored. I’m surprised we didn’t do this one earlier.

  After the ride Max looks at me sheepishly. “I usually skip that one,” he admits. “I figured if you were going to confront your fears I should probably suck it up and do that one.”

  “That one scares you?” I ask in disbelief. He shrugs and smiles self-consciously.

  “I’m not a fan of heights…like AT ALL. Yeah, these other coasters may be higher but it’s all so fast. This one you can see too much how high you are. No thanks.”

  Most of the coasters are in the same general area but we’ve done a lot of walking around to take them in the order in which Max wants me to experience them. We do three more coasters and I feel like I could do this all day. I’m flying on adrenaline and sunshine and just the joy of feeling normal. Then it all comes crashing to a halt.

  Max has decided that the next step is to ride this coaster that shoots you out at over seventy miles an hour. I agree to ride this next and I feel fine. Then as we’re standing there in line watching the coaster shoot off of the platform and up the first hill something changes. I don’t know why this one triggers my anxiety. Maybe it’s not the ride at all. I can have an attack with no provocation but it doesn’t happen that often anymore. I think a lot of it is just the adrenaline of the day and then there are the sounds. All around us I can hear the sounds the coasters make. I can hear people screaming. Suddenly it’s just too much.

  The noise is too loud, the crowd is too pressing. The screams that sounded like fun earlier now sound like terror. It comes on fast and it comes without warning. The chest pain is excruciating. I gasp in tiny breaths of air that don’t adequately fill my lungs. Of course this makes me dizzy. I stop dead in my tracks even as the line is moving. Max sees something is off immediately.

  “Go around,” he almost growls as the group of girls behind us grows impatient. He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks in my face but I squeeze my eyes shut. “Noah? What is it?” he asks and the worry in his voice is more than idle concern and I know he’s trying to be helpful but it just exacerbates my feelings of panic and fear.

  I’m shaking and I’m cold at the same time that I’m hot. Now I’m gasping for air and the fear of passing out in front of Max, in front of all of these strangers, increases my panic. It’s been so long I almost forgot what one of these feels like. Then I think, maybe it was never this bad before and that’s why I can’t remember. Maybe this time I really AM dying. My panic escalates. This is how it works with me. This is the fundamental problem with being me.

  Max has his arm around my shoulders and he’s leading me out of the line and we’re on a bench in the shade before I even realize what’s happening. I can’t believe this is happening in front of Max. I have enough presence of mind to think of the meds in my front pocket but I’m not about to take them in front of him. That would lead to questions and this is bad enough already.

  God! My chest hurts so much that I just want to cry and the worst thing is that I KNOW what this is. I’ve felt this before but I can’t stop it and I’m still convinced it’s going to kill me. I know the chest pain is the muscles in my chest and not my heart itself but it pounds so hard and fast it’s hard to believe the pain isn’t in my heart. One of these days I’m sure I won’t be able to ta
ke it anymore and my heart will just give out. No matter how many panic attacks I live through I’m still convinced that the one I’m suffering through at the time is the one that will finally end me. I don’t care that I’m only sixteen and physically healthy, a person can’t live like this can they?

  “Do you need to go to the first aid station?” Max asks quietly. He has changed his tactics and the worry has left his voice. I’m sitting on the bench with my arms crossed over my chest and I’m leaning over at the waist trying to not be dizzy. I tuck my chin in and keep my eyes closed tight. I can’t answer him but I shake my head.

  “Do you need to go?” Max is talking in a low, soothing voice and I try to focus on his voice instead of thinking about my attack. I know from experience that the worst thing I can do is struggle to regain my composure. That will just make things worse. I just have to ride it out and hope it ends quickly.

  “Noah, you’re okay. I’m here. You’re fine, No,” he soothes. He’s rubbing his hand up and down my back and his voice is so laid back and calm that it’s helping me to relax. I can’t help but wonder if Mom said something to him? It’s just that he seems to know exactly how to handle me to talk me down and only my parents and Dr. Bachman have ever been any good at that. Hell, even my dad struggles with exactly how to deal with me during an attack most of the time.

  I have no idea how long we sit there until I’m able to open my eyes and sit up again. How in the world do I explain this to Max? Just tell him, says a small part of me. The part of me that can’t stand the thought of that wins though. How do you tell what is probably your best friend that you’re mentally ill? I remember when he told me that Tabitha was damaged. What would he think of me if I told him the truth? His friendship means too much to me to risk it by telling him the truth.

  “I need some water,” I manage.

  “You’ll be okay here?” Max asks and I nod. “I’ll be right back,” he says and he’s off presumably to get water. It’s too late to help now but I work the pill container out of my front pocket and take the Xanax or Ativan or whatever the Hell it is that I’m on these days anyway. I lose track, especially when I’m not on a strict regime. I manage to choke down the pills without water. I’ve done this before. They taste terrible but they go down alright.

  While Max is gone I work on my cover story. I’ve hidden symptoms before this. I’ve told lies to cover for symptoms when I can’t hide them. I’ve never willingly told anyone the truth about my fucked up mind. I’m not about to start now.

  When Max returns I find him easily in the crowd. He’s not overly tall and he’s slim but something about him makes him appear more there than anyone else. He’s not running but he’s walking quickly, much more quickly than his usual ambling pace.

  He hands me a bottle of water and takes a pull from his own. It’s soothing after taking those pills dry. Taking my time drinking it also stalls having to give Max an explanation.

  “We’ve done enough for one day. We should probably get going,” Max says, looking at the crowd and not at me. I’m glad he’s not looking at me. It makes lying easier.

  “No, I’m really okay. I think it was just low blood sugar. It happens sometimes, especially after all the sugar I had at breakfast,” I lie. I’m not prone to low blood sugar. Max looks at me for a moment as if he’s trying to catch the lie but then he looks at his watch and smiles.

  “Jesus, is it any wonder?!” he exclaims. “It’s well past lunch time and you’ve had an adrenaline fueled morning. Let’s grab something now. You up to it?” I nod and we both stand. We wander around the park until we can decide on what to eat. I’m not really hungry. The meds really turn me off of food and I’m not a big eater to start with but I have to make a show of eating something.

  After lunch Max decides it’s time to do something besides ride coasters. I’m not sure if he believes my low blood sugar excuse. I think he wants to but I think he has his doubts. He’s smart, I can’t completely fool him.

  “I told you this morning that I would ride something that terrifies me if you rode one coaster and so far I have not made good on that promise,” he says.

  “But you did,” I argue. Geeze, anything that terrifies Max is going to kill me isn’t it? “You rode that one coaster you said you usually skip.” He shakes his head smiling ruefully.

  “I don’t particularly like that one so I skip it. It doesn’t terrify me. THIS terrifies me,” he says as he looks up at the huge Ferris wheel. We’re standing at its base right near the area where the line starts. This ride attracts a lot of kids and families. I can’t believe this is the ride that terrifies Max.

  When we finally get to the front of the line and take our seats Max warns me, “If you rock this car I will throw you out of it…or at the very least I will puke in your lap.” I think he has to be exaggerating but I soon find this is not the case. Every time someone is let on the ride it stops of course. Max is fine until we’re about halfway to the top then he gets very quiet and still. When we finally get to the very top and the ride stops to let the next batch of people on he closes his eyes.

  “I really, really hate this,” he admits. I know how he feels because I’m afraid of being afraid but I’ve never had a problem with heights. Crowds, loud noises, strangers, wide spaces, death, and fear itself can all terrify me but I’m enjoying the view from up here. It was calm down on the ground but it’s really breezy one hundred feet in the air. The ride lurches as it moves again to let on more passengers and Max swallows reflexively.

  Eventually the ride is full and starts moving at a regular speed. It’s only then that Max opens his eyes. He won’t look around or down he just stares straight ahead at me sitting on the opposite side of the ride bucket. I kinda feel bad for him but he did trick me into coming to an amusement park today so I don’t feel TOO bad.

  “How long can it be, like two minutes?” I tease. “You can stand anything for two minutes, can’t you?” I repeat his words back to him. He glares at me but then he smiles.

  “Touche’,”he says. “You know, the first time Tabby and I ever kissed was on this damned thing.”

  “Seriously? You look like the last thing you would do is kiss someone on this ride,” I’m surprised.

  “Yup, right on this ride. It was last spring and we were here with her brother and some girl he was dating and we were stuck at the top. I don’t even know why I let them talk me into getting on this thing in the first place. So I’m just terrified and Tabitha says ‘Max, look here,’ and I turned to her and she grabbed my face in her hands and kissed me. It was a Hell of a kiss. We spent the rest of the ride kissing and I actually forgot about the height.”

  As the ride comes to an end and we have to go through the disembarking process Max once again closes his eyes as we sit at the top. “Sorry, you’re going to have to suffer through this,” I tell him laughing. “I am NOT kissing you.” Max barks a sharp laugh at that.

  When we finally get off of the Ferris wheel we ride a few normal rides just to break up the scary ones. We even ride the tea cups although we know we look ridiculous. We use the wheel in the middle to get it spinning so fast that Max says he’s going to hurl. He’s laughing the entire time so I don’t think he really means it but I’m relieved when the ride is over. If he pukes I know I’ll puke!

  Eventually we do the coaster that scared me before and it’s really not that big of a deal. I actually love it. The feeling I get when we’re moving so fast and then the sudden drop over the first hill is exhilarating. After that it’s just a regular coaster, kinda tame actually.

  We spend a good half hour on this one coaster that’s actually two coasters that race each other. There’s no line and as soon as we get off the ride we run back around and get on it again. Max knows where all of the cameras are that take those souvenir pictures and every time we go by the camera we do something goofy. After the ride we stop to look at our pictures and soon we’re laughing so hard we can’t catch our breath. Max actually buys key chains of one where we
’re faking being asleep leaning against each other’s shoulders. That pose was hard to hold as the coaster bounced around.

  We end the coasters with one that pulls us up the first hill backwards and Max goes quiet. Knowing his fear of heights I can see why. All of the other hills we go up forwards staring at sky and even after going over the edge there are only seconds of seeing how high we are before we plummet back down. This ride is ages of being pulled up the hill slowly backwards…the ground getting further and further away. I can’t help smiling when it gets too high for Max and he closes his eyes and grabs my wrist. It’s somehow nice to see this little glimpse of vulnerability. It takes at least a minute to get to the top of the hill but as soon as the ride lets go Max opens his eyes and lets go of my wrist. It’s a short fast ride with loops and barrel rolls and then we’re up another hill but this time looking at the sky and we stop.

  “Now what?” I ask naively.

  “Backwards!” shouts Max just as the car is let go and we do the entire thing backwards. It’s terrifying and yet ridiculously fun. At one point my ass actually lifts out of the seat and I realize that without the safety harness I wouldn’t be in the car anymore. It’s not the first time today that I’ve felt air born but there’s something about having it happen when you’re going backwards that’s scary. It actually freaks me the Hell out but then the ride is over. When we get off of the ride Max is laughing hysterically and I can tell it’s an adrenaline fueled laugh. I can’t help but join in.

  “God that first part SUCKS!” he says.

  “Why do you put yourself through that?” I ask. “I mean, you looked terrified, for real not just scaring yourself for fun.”

  “If I didn’t go through that first part I’d miss the entire ride and after it goes it’s freaking FUN!” he says still laughing. Eventually he sobers and adds seriously, “If you don’t step out of your comfort zone and take risks you can miss out on the really good things. I’m not just talking about amusement parks, No, I’m talking about life. You have to live it. Just existing isn’t enough.”