Despite the fact that his stomach felt like it had been flipped upside down, Marvin held it together. He felt cold and clammy and imagined that if he saw himself in the mirror, he would look positively green.
But he didn't want Freddy to notice so when he asked Marvin, "Want to go on another ride?" Marvin nodded excitedly, smiled and subtly swallowed the vomit that had jumped up into the back of his throat.
Each ride seemed more intense than the last. They pitched and turned and sometimes flipped over. Marvin's stomach seemed to be punching the rest of his insides in an effort to escape from the torture. The sweat poured from his forehead as the world streaked in flashing colors all around him until the ride finally came to a stop. Between rounds all Marvin could hope for was as long a line as possible on Freddy's next choice, the better to give him time to regroup.
At one point, while following Freddy from the Tilt-a-whirl to the Gravitron, they passed the funnel cake stand. With his dizzying nausea, the odor of the fried dough caused Marvin to gag. He spotted a nearby garbage can and ducked behind the tent and leaved over it, convinced he was about to throw up and, in fact, almost welcoming the relief it might bring.
All he did was gag a few times before he heard Freddy's voice calling to him from around the corner. Marvin straightened himself and cleared his throat.
"There you are. What are you doing back here?" asked Freddy.
"I thought I saw a dollar on the ground," Marvin answered cooly, "but it's just some lettuce."
"Well c'mon," said Freddy excitedly, "there's hardly any line for the Matterhorn."
Marvin spent the next two minutes being spun in a circle. For a moment, he imagined they were vials in a centrifuge devised by some maniacal giant scientist attempting to separate his guts form the rest of him.
But soon enough it was over and soon enough Freddy had chosen the next ride, a makeshift miniature roller coaster that Marvin wasn't quite sure he could fit in, but he didn't want to disappoint Freddy. He climbed the metal staircase and waited at the gate beside him, eyeing the operator suspiciously. It didn't hep the condition of his stomach one bit to think the ride they were about to board had probably been erected by the man who took their tickets and his cousin who had even fewer teeth.
On it went like this for another few hours. Marvin continually answered, "Sure," to Freddy's request to hit another ride instead of saying what he desperately wanted to, which was, "Enough! I swear I'm going to barf if you make me ride any more!"
After all, it wasn't Freddy's fault. He was just excited to be there with Marvin and Marvin wanted him to have a good time. So he put up with the terror he felt at every creaking noise the rides made and choked down his intestines as they tried to make their way out through his esophagus and before he knew it, the rides began to shut down their lights.
"Aw, it's closing," said Freddy as he looked around.
"Shoot," Marvin feigned frustration. "We'd better get headed home."
"Ok," Freddy agreed then threw his arms around Marvin and hugged him. "Thanks for riding with me, Dad. It was awesome."
The hug in such a public place was an exceedingly rare occurrence from the twelve-year-old who seemed to always be aware of how cool he looked lately. Marvin smiled and hugged his son back. "No problem, buddy," he said and suddenly realized his stomach felt much better. "What do you say we go get some ice cream?"