Page 21 of SEAL’S Baby Surprise (Lanes #2)

So that’s where we go next. The bumper cars are shaped like giant clam shells, and scoot about on a platform that is painted bright blue.

The edges of the “shells” are padded with rims of a bouncy rubber or plastic substance.

The sign by the ride announced that it was “made completely of recycled substances.”

We buy our tickets and spend a happy thirty minutes or so whizzing around the small arena, bumping into each other, the railings, and occasionally into other people. It is all in good fun, and the cars don’t go fast enough to give anyone whiplash.

“Whee!” Julia screams out.

“Yodele, yodele, yodele–hee, hoo,” Lee shouts out in answer. They’re both so boisterous and loud.

For a moment, I want to shrink down into the bottom of my car. My conservative family would never have condoned making such a scene.

Then, I remember that I’ve not spoken to my family for years because they’d taken exception to Izzy’s exuberant celebration of life at every opportunity. Until she didn’t.

The thought catches at my throat, and all at once I am glad my daughter and my mermaid are able to shout out in a joyous celebration of life. “Yodele, yodele, yodele!” I yodeled back at Lee.

She grins at me, and gently bumps her shell against mine, then zips off to interpose her car between Julia and a boy who is just a little too enthusiastic about bumping. My heart bubbles over with affection and admiration.

This is a totally different type of experience for me. It’s not like my family growing up.

But I think I might like it.

After we stagger off the bumper cars, Lee points upward and says, “Is that a roller coaster? I’ve read about them, but never been on one.”

So, of course, we have to go on the rollercoaster. We strap into open-top cars, using three-point safety harnesses. The attendant comes by and makes sure we are securely strapped in.

“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.

Julia tastes, and her eyes light up. “Okay,” she says. “That will be fine.”

I look over at Lee to see how she is doing. She’s got her cup under her nose, inhaling, with a look of serene enjoyment on her face.

Yeah, the bookmobile has been a great idea. I watch Lee enjoying the jasmine tea.

“I’ve not had this in forever,” she says. “One of my college roommates loved going to the co-op, and we had it every Saturday. It’s just what we need to settle down after the roller coaster.”

I nod my agreement and sip my own tea. “It is wonderful stuff,” I say.