Page 43 of SEAL'S Baby Surprise
“Why is he doing that?” Lee asks.
I shrug. “Probably for the insurance,” I say. “That way the owners can say, ‘Yep. Everyone had their seat belts on.’”
The motor starts, and we creep up the steep slope to the top. I make the mistake of looking down when we get to the top, and I realize that none of us have parachutes.
Consequently, as we make the swoop down the other side, I scream louder than either Lee or Julia. And they are screaming fit to break my eardrums.
We whiz along on the flat. Then before I know it, we are flying up the inside of what seems like a great, big hamster wheel, and the reason for the three-point strap-in harness becomes clear. We are upside down in the thing, and I dang near lose my lunch!
We level out after that, make a circuit of the carnival rides, and come smoothly to a stop back where we started. An attendant helps first Lee and then Julia out. He looks at me doubtfully, so I collect myself, scoot over on the seat and stand up. I might sway a little, but I manage to walk out the exit under my own steam.
Nearly straight ahead of us is a ride labeled “The Hammer.”
“That one, Daddy, that one!” Julia shouts.
Lee does a harsh intake of breath, and I watch the thing for a moment. It’s shaped like a hammer. There’s a cage at one end of a long mechanism. The long arm swings up, the cage goes upside down. There is the sound of screaming coming from it.
As we watch, a couple gets off, the guy walks over and pukes in the grass. The girl doesn’t make it to the grass.
“Clean up!” the attendant shouts.
A couple of teens run over with brooms, shovels and a pail filled with sawdust.
“I’d rather not,” Lee says.
“I nearly lost my lunch when the roller coaster went loop-the-loop,” I say. “Besides, that, Judy-Rudy, the top of your head doesn’t come up to the height marker for the Hammer.”
She sticks out her lip for a minute, but there really isn’t any way to argue with the big ruler beside the Hammer. Julia pulls in her lip and says, “Then can we have ice cream?”
I catch sight of a rolling business that is actually a familiar sight around Freedom Beach. Along the side of a converted tour bus is the legend, “Books, Scones, and Ice Cream Cones.”
“Come on,” I say. “I know just the place.” I hurry us all over to an opportunity for paradise.
“Good afternoon, Hagatha,” I say to the young woman sitting at the front of the bus. “May we enter your magic bus?”
“Sure thing, Austin,” she says. “Come on in.”
I don’t know her real name. There are five Hagathas, all about the same size, and looking enough alike I’m sure they are sisters. No matter who is at the front, she is ‘Hagatha.’
Starting behind the driver’s seat, the bus is filled with dining booths. At the back, there are ice cream machines, cooktops, ovens, and tall drink dispensers. We pick a booth about halfway back. A stair leads to the upper deck and a sign reads, “Books on top — no food in the library.”
Julia and I sit on one side, and Lee on the other. A gum-chewing young woman in a blue and white checked dress and white apron comes right over. “What can I getcha?” she asks.
“Daily special for all of us,” I say quickly, before my companions can speak up. I want them to get the real flavor of the place.
The waitress holds out her tray, and I place my credit card on it. She pulls a wireless card reader out of her pocket, scans my card, and has me sign the screen.
She then goes to the rear counter and says, “Daily dose, times three. Make one of those a kid size, and one jumbo.
In a couple of minutes, she comes back with papa, mama, and child size place settings, a big pot of tea, a plate of scones, a tub of clotted cream, and another plate of cucumber sandwiches.
The sweet scent of jasmine flavored green tea wafts from the pot. Lee asks, “Shall I pour?”
“Please do,” I say, placing a cucumber sandwich on Julia’s plate. I then show her how to split a scone and lade its insides with clotted cream.
“I thought we were having ice cream,” Julia pouts just a little.
“We can. But have some of this first,” I say.
