Treats for Jimmy-Jimmy

Scattered leisurely among the piney woods of Edgefield Road were an array of modest yet cozy family homes. Built in the teens by the firm of Bliss & Sangak, they were designed to sustain a stylistic harmony with the surrounding natural beauty of the county. Jimmy-Jimmy lived in one of these homes, along with his parents. The house had originally belonged to his maternal grandfather (named Jimmy) who had lived in it from the day it was built right up to the night he passed fifty-five years later.

Jimmy-Jimmy was six years old and in every respect a healthy lad brimming with curiosity about the world around him. The peculiar redundancy of his first name owed to his mother’s insistence. Her first-born son, Jimmy – as all first-born males in her family were named - had died less than three weeks after birth. A year later, she declared her second son “a replacement first-born” who would carry the name of her dead son as a tribute, along with his own. In the hospital, her husband had felt humiliated by the prospect of having a “Jimmy-Jimmy” for a son; but as it happened, he grew quickly to love the quirky name and the boy who went with it.

Seeing Jimmy-Jimmy on the receiving end of a treat made his dad feel like the happiest man on the planet. Sometimes he would bring home candy or ice cream or a toy; just last month, a bicycle! He also made things in his workshop to show off. The most recent one had been an electric muscle relaxer (belonging to his arthritic wife) that he had “fixed up.” After removal of the casing and replacement of certain components, it was now just two wires attached to a circuit board and dial; and when the contacts touched, it could made big sparks, almost like fireworks. Jimmy-Jimmy was enthralled; he loved the zzzzt-zzzt sound.

“That’s the sound of electricity,” Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad explained.

“It’s like, you’re not supposed to see it, but...,” Jimmy-Jimmy started before his reach exceeded his grasp, rendering him speechless.

Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad set him straight: “There’s all kinds of things you’re not supposed to see. That makes gettin’ to see ’em a real treat!”

Just one week later, with Jimmy-Jimmy’s birthday coming up, his dad announced the Big Treat of the Year; a trip to Orthros Point and the amusement park they had down there. Scene of many a dad story from his youth, the park was a place out of myth for Jimmy-Jimmy and he could not have been more excited to go anywhere else. His mother, alas, would not be making the three-hour road trip owing to her condition; in any event, she held disfavor for amusement parks, their “cheap thrills and unhealthy sentiments.” Catching herself in old-fashioned ways, she concluded Jimmy-Jimmy would probably have a better time without her. Disappointment started to spread over Jimmy-Jimmy, but his dad’s brimming enthusiasm for the two of them going together soon brought joy back to his face.

There was an early morning chill on the appointed day: in front of the house, Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad waited impatiently in the car for his son to join him. He figured Jimmy-Jimmy was being held up by his mother, probably making sure he was dressed proper and all. He recalled many trips to the park when he was young and his mother doing exactly the same thing; and then all those extra layers he didn’t need just peeled right off once they got there. “Shit, those were good times,” Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad thought to himself. He wondered how his son’s time at the park would compare to his own as a kid. As if on cue, Jimmy-Jimmy, dressed proper, appeared at the front door beside his mom. He ran to the car as fast as he could, got in, buckled up and told his dad, “Hit it!” With a frozen smile, his mom waved after them, watching as the car disappeared down the road.

The ride to Orthros Point was colorless and eventless, but seemed to pass faster than expected. On arrival, Jimmy-Jimmy and his dad saw a towering Ferris Wheel above the park’s steeply-inclined, faux-mountainous façade which concealed all other amusements beyond it. They stood in a short line for tickets and entered uphill on an escalator while a pre-recorded recitation of park rules and regulations played. Surmounting the horizon, they oversaw a “hidden” valley with colorful rides and attractions aplenty. Jimmy-Jimmy and his dad locked each other in the eyes with identical intent: they were going on every ride.

They started with the mini-train around the park, which included quaint detours into the planet’s dinosaur-filled past and two possible futures: a haunting post-apocalyptic wasteland or tacky space-age utopia. Jimmy-Jimmy liked it well enough, but his dad thought it was cheesy; then again, he recalled it always being that way. Next up was the Ferris Wheel and Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad couldn’t help but recall riding it one particular time in his late teens...when he and Becky broke some park rules (a story he had never shared with his son or wife). His reminiscence was interrupted by Jimmy-Jimmy, who said he wanted to save “the Wheel” for last. So, they moved on, doing bumper cars first. Twice.

True to their vow, father and son went on every ride, but there was one that stood above and apart: The Funhouse. On their second trip through, the ride’s power suddenly died. Plunged into darkness, Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad made all kinds of “spooky” noises, keeping his son in giggles so he wouldn’t become afraid. After less than two minutes, a shaft of fading outdoor light broke through the darkness, bringing an exodus from their plight. An emergency door had been opened by a ride staffer who apologized for the breakdown and promised complimentary rides to all as soon the trouble was fixed.

Along with several other aborted ride-goers, Jimmy-Jimmy and his dad took the opportunity to get some eats. The hot dogs were long and thin and delicious; the best Jimmy-Jimmy had ever tasted and much better than his dad remembered. “This is what I’d want for my last meal,” he said. He ended up getting a second one and splitting it with Jimmy-Jimmy.

As the half-dogs went down, The Funhouse reopened. Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad felt like everything had been arranged just for them. The third time through was the best. Father and son knew where all the “cheap thrills” were coming as the all-star cast of monsters, ghosts and ghouls shared “unhealthy sentiments” to scare them. When they finally emerged, they had tears in their eyes from laughing so hard.

Wind at their backs and thinning crowds before them, they came at last to the mighty Ferris Wheel. Its only passengers for the trip, they experienced a slow ascent made worthwhile by the plunge down, back up again and then all-around, non-stop, before pausing back at the top. They could see the whole park at sunset, plus adjacent tracts of land undergoing commercial and residential development: a burgeoning community. Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad slipped back to a time that had seemed to last forever as he told his son about the view of his youth - bare land, far as the eye could see - and often wondering if anything would ever be built on it.

“Dad?” Jimmy-Jimmy asked gently.

“Yeah?”

“Is this where you raped Becky?”

The face of Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad turned ashen, as though the horrifying consequences of something done long ago had finally come to claim him. Caught between curiosity and fear, Jimmy-Jimmy seemed unable to muster another word. At that moment, the Wheel started turning again, bringing them down as gently as it had sent them up. As they exited at bottom, a waiting trio of teens noticed Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad looking unwell and mocked second thoughts about boarding.

Jimmy-Jimmy and his dad left the park without a word to anyone or each other. In the car, Jimmy-Jimmy stayed silent while wondering if his dad was mad at him, but his dad wouldn’t even look his way. He just drove through the night, yellow glows from passing street lamps periodically slicing through him. Self-absorbed, he would occasionally grin or giggle. He was looking forward to something – that much Jimmy-Jimmy could tell – but whatever it was went beyond the boy’s understanding.

Jimmy-Jimmy fretted, even as the wear and tear of the long day began to take its toll on his young metabolism. He opened and closed his eyes once, twice, thrice...before dreams took over from reality. He saw himself back in The Funhouse, alone, going through the ride’s “chills” which included his parents in comical ghoul make-up. Jimmy-Jimmy laughed at everything, yet he knew somehow - or felt - an underlying dread: if he stopped laughing, something terrible would happen.

When Jimmy-Jimmy’s sleepy eyes reopened, he was in his father’s arms and being carried into the house. He wasn’t sure he was really awake. His dad grinned at him, asking if he was hungry seeing as how he had slept straight through dinnertime; but Jimmy-Jimmy wasn’t hungry, only tired. He wondered where his mom was. His dad told him she wasn’t feeling well and had already gone to bed.

In his own room, Jimmy-Jimmy climbed into his own bed and was tucked in securely by his dad. He told his dad it had been the best day ever and wished every day could be like it. Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad swallowed hard, but kept up his fatherly cheer as best he could. Nevertheless, something in Jimmy-Jimmy compelled him to confess: “Dad? Mom told me to say that to you on the Wheel. She said it was funny. What did it mean?”

Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad was overcome with emotion. He looked down, as if in mourning: “Don’t worry about it, son. I know she told you. It’s all right. It’s...just a game we play.”

“Can I play, too?”

Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad looked up and chuckled. “You did! You did play. And you know what? You played great!” He gave his son a kiss and stroked his face lovingly. “Now you be a good boy and get to sleep. You need it after your big day. Tomorrow, there’s gonna be a big breakfast and even more treats for you, I promise!” Tantalized yet totally baffled, Jimmy-Jimmy settled into bed, grinning. His dad stood over him, basking as his son’s eyes drifted closed. Turning off the big light, Jimmy-Jimmy’s dad switched on the little one and quietly shut the door.

Less than an hour later, Jimmy-Jimmy was wide awake. Sitting up in bed, he was too excited now and couldn’t sleep and it was just no good trying. He took a sip of water from his bedside table and wondered how the Wheel knew to stop with he and his dad right at the top.

As was his custom when he couldn’t sleep, Jimmy-Jimmy slid out of bed and came out of his room. He wandered down the hall to his parents’ bedroom. He reached for the door to knock, but heard zzzzt-zzzt behind it: the “sound of electricity.” It was unmistakable and it froze him.

Jimmy-Jimmy leaned in for a closer listen. He heard his dad moan: ”...higher! Crank it higher!” There was a loud slap and then another zzzzt-zzzt, his dad’s searing groans following each jolt. Jimmy-Jimmy gripped the handle, but stopped short of turning when he thought he heard his dad start to laugh. Then he heard his mom say, “You bad, bad boy!” Zzzzt-zzzt, zzzzt-zzzt!

Jimmy-Jimmy felt all kinds of “Wrong” about opening that door….